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She stopped at a bench alongside the canal, slung her bag down, and unsteadily started yanking her sock out from her boot. The dark water was eerily still, it was a clear night. Somewhere behind her she glanced movement, what was it? ‘It’s a bird, Helen,’ a bossy voice in her head reprimanded her. Sometimes, when her anxiety woke up with a jolt, her rational mind felt the need to slap it down with excessive force.
Helen tried walking again: nope that hadn’t done it, the sock was still rubbing. She slowed again, and became aware that a second set of footsteps slowed at the same time behind her. Her heartbeat was louder now, her blood started pumping so loudly in her ears it felt like they were closing over. She turned around, and saw a figure behind her on the path, just exiting the shadows of the last tunnel.
She felt her chest tighten. It was probably nothing, but if it was, would she even be able to scream?
‘Hey,’ said the figure.
Helen’s eyes focused on the man behind her, he had dark small eyes, and was wearing a brown beanie.
Hadn’t she just seen him? She definitely had. Her stomach started fastening itself in knots, she looked forwards, she needed to get off the towpath, to the well-lit street ahead. She walked quicker now. The lights bobbed in front of her, their shape bouncing off the water. She felt dizzy. An intense heat had started to creep over her back, where she could feel his eyes fixed on her.
The footsteps were quicker now. Louder. Behind her.
Oh god.
‘Lucy!’ A voice called out.
It wasn’t behind her though, it was in front of her now.
Three metres ahead of her on the path was another man. This was it. She shouldn’t have walked home. No, she shouldn’t have gone to that party. Or thought that anything good was going to happen to her.
‘Lucy,’ the man repeated, he sounded like he knew her, and was waving both arms above his head. ‘You donut! I’ve been looking for you!’
Helen checked back over her shoulder. Who was Lucy? She saw brown beanie. He was a little further back on the path now, his dark eyes went from Helen, to the other man, back to Helen, and just like that, he turned on his heels and walked swiftly in the other direction. She heard his feet break into a jog, until his footsteps faded out into the night.
‘Hi! Hi!’ the guy in front of her called. When her eyes met his, he seemed to leap back like a cat that was spooked. His gangly arms were raised above his head, like someone was arresting him.
‘Lucy … err sorry I actually don’t know ya name.’ He had an even northern accent. ‘Look, I don’t want to wig you out even more, I just saw that guy, you know, the one with the hat? I cycled past ya and I dunno. He looked a bit odd, that fellow, so I stopped …’ The man pulled a battered yellow bike out of the hedgerow. ‘And anyway it might have been nothing, but just to be safe and all, you know …’ His voice trailed off, and he looked down self-consciously at his body, and shrugged his backpack across his shoulder.
Helen squinted at him, and felt her feet were glued to the floor. She needed to text Sophie.
‘Look. How about I just cycle a bit ahead of you until you get on the main street? I swear down I won’t follow you, just want to make sure, well you know?’
‘Okay,’ said Helen slowly, and pulled her mobile phone out of her handbag.
‘Yup, good plan to have that out, and for the record I won’t be nicking that either,’ said the man and gently started stepping up the path rolling his bike along beside him. ‘I’m Ish by the way. Don’t need to know your name though,’ he said brightly.
‘I’m Helen.’
‘Well Helen, nice to meet ya. I live just over in London Fields. I like this area, all the history, but at night, yeah …’
‘I like it too,’ ventured Helen. ‘I don’t know who that guy was but I’m sure I saw him at Liverpool Street station. He smiled at me. You don’t think he … do you?’
‘I dunno, well, maybe, but he’s gone now and I’ll get you home. Well nothome, but safe, wherever you feel comfortable.’
‘Thanks. I feel … better … comfortable. Well, actually I have a blister coming, and I’m a bit, not tipsy, but anyway, apart from that I’m okay. Comfortable.’
Ish stopped and patted the front of his jacket. ‘Here ya go.’ He fished a plaster out from his front pocket. ‘I’ll just leave that here for you.’ He placed it on the bench in between them. ‘You can pick it up …’
‘I get the concept Ish, don’t worry.’ Helen felt herself smiling, since when was she so confident? ‘It is Ish, right?’
‘Yeah Ish, Ishan to be correct. So what do you do around here, Helen?’
Helen took a deep breath, ‘I’m a blogger.’
‘Oh right, fair enough, me too actually,’ smiled Ish. ‘I do history stuff. I look at major historical events, mainly in London at the minute, like Britain in the Blitz, the Black Death, Jack the Ripper, oh shit, sorry, probably shouldn’t have brought that one up! Sorry! Anyway, I make short videos about it, like educational, for kids, tweens, that kinda thing,’ Ish cleared his throat.
‘I’m a baking blogger. Well, blogger/ vlogger really. I had one big hit video that went viral, it was about cheap carrot cake … and anyway that’s my job.’
