Free I See You by Clare Mackintosh

noticing the way Cathy’s fringe flopped to the right-hand side, and the slight furrow between her brows. The photo in the
Gazette
certainly bore a striking resemblance to her.
    Kelly put the cut-out advert on the table in front of Cathy, watching the other woman carefully for a reaction. There was little information beneath the photograph, but the advert was surrounded by listings for escort services and chatlines, suggesting the ad offered similar services. Did GPs moonlight as chatline operators? As call girls?
    The first thing Kelly had done on receiving copies of the adverts had been to type the web address – findtheone.com – into her browser. The URL had taken her to a blank page; a white box in the centre suggesting some sort of password was required, but giving no further indication as to what it might be, or how one might obtain it.
    The surprise on Cathy’s face was genuine. A moment’s silence, then a short burst of uneasy laughter. She picked up the advert and looked more closely. ‘They could have chosen a more flattering angle, don’t you think?’
    ‘It is you, then?’
    ‘That’s my winter coat.’
    The photo was closely cropped, the background dark with no discernible detail. Indoors, Kelly thought, although she couldn’t say why she was so certain. Cathy was looking towards the camera but not straight at it; she was gazing into the distanceas though her mind was on something else entirely. The shoulders of a dark brown coat could be seen; a fur-lined hood loose behind her head.
    ‘Have you seen this picture before?’
    Cathy shook her head. Despite her self-assurance, Kelly could tell she was rattled.
    ‘And I’m guessing you didn’t place this advert.’
    ‘Look, NHS conditions might be tough, but I’m not quite ready to switch careers yet.’
    ‘Are you registered on any dating sites?’ Cathy gave her an amused look. ‘I’m sorry to ask, but I wondered if the photos had been harvested from a legitimate site.’
    ‘No dating sites,’ Cathy said. ‘I’m not long out of a serious relationship and, frankly, getting into another is the last thing on my mind.’ She put down the photocopy, took a swig of wine, then looked at Kelly. ‘Level with me: should I be worried?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Kelly said honestly. ‘This advert appeared two days before your keys were stolen, and I only found out about it a few hours ago. The woman who found it – Zoe Walker – thinks she saw her own photo in the
London Gazette
on Friday.’
    ‘Has she had something stolen too?’
    ‘No. But, understandably, she’s uneasy about her photo being in the paper.’
    ‘As indeed I am.’ Cathy paused, as if weighing up whether to continue. ‘The thing is, Kelly, I’ve been considering giving you a ring for the last few days.’
    ‘Why haven’t you?’
    Cathy fixed her gaze on Kelly. ‘I’m a doctor. I deal in facts, not fantasy, as I imagine you do. I wanted to call you, but … I couldn’t be sure.’
    ‘Sure of what?’
    Another pause.
    ‘I think someone’s been in my house while I’ve been at work.’
    Kellysaid nothing, waiting for Cathy to say more.
    ‘I can’t be certain. It’s more a … it’s more of a feeling.’ Cathy rolled her eyes. ‘I know – it wouldn’t stand up in court, right? That’s precisely why I haven’t reported it. But when I got in from work the other day I could have sworn I smelt aftershave in the hall, and when I went upstairs to get changed, the lid to the laundry basket was open.’
    ‘Could you have left it open?’
    ‘It’s possible, but it’s unlikely. Closing it’s one of those automatic actions, you know?’ She paused. ‘I think some of my underwear is missing.’
    ‘You changed the locks, though, didn’t you?’ Kelly said. ‘You were waiting for the locksmith when you called the job in.’ Cathy looked sheepish. ‘I changed the front door lock. I didn’t get the back door done. It would have been an extra hundred quid, and to be