THE VILLAGERS

With a suspicious-looking man creeping around outside, the women have every reason to be fearful

Emily is watering the plants on her windowsill when she notices movement across the village square – a dark shadow moving behind the bus shelter.

She watches, pulse quickening, as the man slides into view. He’s tall, dark-haired and wearing black. Emily knows every single person in the village but she doesn’t know this man and she doesn’t like the way he’s creeping around. She snatches up her phone as the man drifts from house to house, lingering outside each one before moving on to the next. As a village they’ve suffered a spate of burglaries over the past few months: tools have been stolen from outhouses and houses have been broken into. Then, a fortnight ago, her friend Mary woke in the night to the sound of breaking glass. Now they’re all living in fear.

As the man slips out of view, Emily holds her phone to her ear. ‘Mary,’ she says as the calls connects. ‘Not to panic you, but there’s a man creeping around the square and I think he’s heading your way.’

Mary inhales sharply. ‘Hang on, let me get to a window upstairs so I’ve got a better view.’

The sound of deep breathing and

‘OK, I’m in the bedroom. I can see him.’ ‘Are you feeling OK?’

Unlike Emily, who lives with her husband John, Mary lives alone. Her husband, a cruel and controlling man, left her three years earlier and she’s been single ever since. Mary’s a strong, independent woman but she seems to be a target for trouble.

But Emily does worry. Mary’s her best friend and she’s been through some tough times. She’d do anything for her, but it’s tricky, balancing being a friend, a wife and a self-employed seamstress. Curtains and clothing are piling up on her dining room table and several of her clients have been hassling her, asking when their alterations will be ready.

team of them?’ Mary asks.

She lies in bed, wide awake, listening for strange noises

think they take it in turns to target a village?’

Mary’s shaken up from what happened but she’s not the only one. Emily’s had trouble sleeping since the break-in too. She lies in bed, wide awake, listening for strange noises as John slumbers beside her. The man sleeps like the dead. It’s not that John isn’t worried about the recent spate of burglaries – it’s all everyone in the village talks about – but he’s good at compartmentalising his life. When he’s at work he thinks about work. When he’s at home he thinks about home. And when he’s in bed he turns off his brain and goes to sleep. If Emily texts him at work because she’s worried about the roof leaking his reply is always the same: ‘Tell me about it when I get home.’ It’s a to live with it, and she picks and chooses what she shares with him. They’ve been together for 25 years and she loves him, despite his quirks. He’s a good man.

She knows a lot that aren’t.

‘Emily?’ Mary says into her ear. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Sorry. What was that you said? A team of burglars? No, I’m not worried about that. What’s he doing now?’

There’s a pause, then, ‘He’s heading this way.’

Emily holds her breath. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. Other than herself and Mary, who works from home as a bookkeeper, most of the rest of the village are either at work or picking up their children from school. If the man in black is heading for Mary’s house they’ll have to deal with him alone.

‘We need to call Carole,’ she says.

the door or the phone, unless it’s me.’ ‘OK.’

Emily hangs up and dials Carole’s number, praying that she’s in.

Carole Cross is the tallest, strongest

who works as a personal trainer and regularly makes grown women cry out in pain in the weekly boot camp she runs

tactless and no-nonsense, and Emily loves her to bits. If Mary is her best friend, then Carole comes a close second. John jokingly calls them the three witches.

‘Carole?’ Emily breathes as the call

connects. ‘Please tell me you’re at home. Mary needs your help.’

‘Again?’ She can hear the amusement in Carole’s voice.

‘There’s a man creeping around the village and he’s heading for her house.’

‘I see.’ Carole’s voice takes on a serious tone. ‘You want me to check him out?’

‘We’ll both go and see what he’s up to.’

Carole might be big and tall but she has a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and there’s a danger she could make things worse.

‘Meet you at the bus stop,’ Emily says, ‘and we’ll go over to Mary’s together. You ready to go?’ ‘Ems, I’m pulling on my trainers.’ As Emily and Carole approach Mary’s front garden they exchange a look. The man in black has got there before them and he’s peering behind Mary’s bins.

Emily clears her throat. ‘Excuse me?’ Carole, beside her, tenses as the man turns around. His eyes meet Emily’s and his expression shifts from surprise to something else, something she can’t read.

‘Looking for something?’ she asks, her throat tightening. She tries to swallow but her mouth is so dry she has to cough instead. She glances up at the window. Mary’s staring down at them, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Actually I am.’

As the man reaches into his back pocket Carole swears under her breath.

‘My cat.’ The man steps towards them, unfolding the piece of paper in his hands. ‘I’ve just moved into a cottage in the next village and Sooty did a runner. Am I OK to put this up in your bus stop?’ Emily glances at the photo of a black cat, and the name and number beneath it, and releases all the air she’s been holding in her lungs. It’s just a cat. Just a man with a lost cat.

***

‘Well,’ Mary says, handing Emily and Carole mugs of coffee. ‘That was close.’

‘I could have sworn he was a policeman.’ Emily blows on her drink, wishing it was something stronger.

It’s been a fortnight since Mary killed the burglar who broke into her home. He was bent over the dresser in her kitchen when she brought the poker down on the back of his head. She made two phone calls – one to Emily to bring a spade, and one to Carole to bring a wheelbarrow – and together they buried him at the top

Mary’s husband to keep him company.

Emily, Mary and Carole aren’t witches, but they know how to make bad men disappear.

CL Taylor, 2021

✣ Strangers by CL Taylor (£7.99, PB, Avon) is out now.

Carole has a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time