What did you do to that girl, Zach?
I don’t notice the tears falling from my eyes until they splatter onto the photo, blurring my face. The face I perfected with make-up because it was the most important day of my life, at least until Freya was born.
Zach always told me things didn’t need to be perfect, they just needed to be what they are, but he understood that day that I wanted everything to be right. And it was. A fairy-tale wedding. There was no glimpse of the nightmare that was to follow.
The doorbell rings, snapping me out of thoughts I’m only too glad to be distracted from.
I’m not expecting anyone, but it crosses my mind that it might be Will, wanting to surprise me. He said he had a lot of work on, but it would be just like him to turn up when I need him the most.
The last person I’m expecting to see when I open the door is Dominic Bradford.
Chapter Ten
Josie
* * *
I haven’t had a chance to speak to Zach for a couple of weeks. I’ve seen him, though, in my lectures, and hung around afterwards to try and grab a word with him, but there’s always a queue of students waiting for him. I don’t even know what I want to say to him, I only know I have to say something.
He saw me waiting for him today, and I thought he might make some sort of gesture that I should wait around, but his eyes only met mine briefly, giving nothing away, and then he turned back to the person he was speaking to. That loudmouth bleached-blonde woman who looks old enough to have kids at uni herself.
I need to get real. Zach’s trying to distance himself from me after giving me a lift home that night. He regrets it now. But what was all that talk about friendship? He said we had a connection.
Sod him. I don’t need this shit in my life. I’ve managed without any so-called friends since I came to London so I don’t need his friendship. It’s so much easier not to bother with people.
So now I’m in a bar getting wrecked; Vanessa and a group of her friends surround me and I have no interest in what any of them are saying. One of them – Harry, is it? Something with an H – sits nudged up against me. He’s pretending he’s got no choice because six of us are crammed into a small booth, but even in my state I can see there is room on his other side.
I push him away and dig my nails into his thigh just to ram home my message, but he’s too far gone to feel any pain. It’s not even 9 p.m. But then, who am I to judge?
I almost will this guy to try something because the mood I’m in means I’ll enjoy ripping into him, shrinking him to the size of a woodlouse.
Opposite me, Vanessa is shouting about something but laughing at the same time. I have no idea what she’s saying because all I can hear is noise – loud thudding music and everyone’s voices mixing together so that nobody makes any sense.
Harry leans in to me. ‘So how d’you know Nessie?’ His voice pierces my ear.
‘Who?’
‘Nessie.’ He points to Vanessa, who’s gesticulating wildly about something to some girl I’ve never seen before.
‘No idea,’ I say. ‘We just know each other.’ I can’t be bothered to explain how I met Vanessa on my second day in London. I was drinking alone in a student bar and she started talking to me while we waited to be served. I didn’t want her to think I’d come out to drink on my own so I told her I’d been stood up by some guy.
‘Yeah, me too,’ he says, downing another tequila shot. At least I think that’s what he said, even though it makes no sense.
He leans in towards me again and I edge away. ‘Look, Harry, I—’
‘It’s Hugh,’
‘Okay, Hugh. Look, I’m not feeling very sociable tonight so how about you back off? I just want to sit here and finish my drink and then get the hell out of here. Okay?’
He hesitates for a moment, probably shocked I’ve been so outspoken. ‘Whatever,’ he says eventually, turning away from me. And under his breath I hear him say, ‘Nessie needs to be more picky about the friends she chooses.’ Somehow I hear every word in perfect clarity. But it’s okay – I don’t give a damn what Harry, or Hugh, or whatever the hell his name is, thinks of me.
Someone ends up buying another round before I’ve finished my last drink so I end up staying for just one more. Thankfully, Hugh has moved on and is now harassing Vanessa’s pretty Chinese friend, who, unlike me, is polite enough, or drunk enough, to bother talking to him.
What am I doing here? This isn’t me. Or at least if it is, it shouldn’t be. This isn’t the life I want, and I’m not like these people. Not only are they younger than me they’ve got nothing to worry about. All they want to do is have fun, while I’m just here to escape.
I need to get out of here.
Nobody notices when I slip away. At least it feels like I’m slipping away, when in reality I’m staggering, stumbling all over the place.
Outside the icy air sobers me up enough for me to get my bearings. I’m in Chiswick and I need to get a bus back to Ealing. But what bus do I need? The stop across the road looks vaguely familiar so I try my luck and head towards it.
Somehow I end up on the right bus, sitting close to the driver because he took pity on me and told me he’d let me know when I get to my stop. ‘Just in case you fall asleep,’ he’d said.
But there’s no chance of that. Every second closer to home sobers me up another notch as I wonder if I’ll have to see Alison, if she’ll confront me again. Knowing all I’ll do when I get into bed is think about Zach, even though I’ve vowed not to. Worrying about that damn assignment I had to rewrite that I still haven’t had back.
When my phone pings with an email alert I almost can’t be bothered to check it, but habit compels me to have a look. And when I see it’s from Zach, with the subject heading Assignment, my heart feels like it’s in my throat. He’s never emailed me before so this is bad. Very bad. I did the best I could with that assignment, in the few hours I had to rewrite it after Alison deleted it, but now I have to face not only a terrible mark, but Zach’s disappointment too.
I take a deep breath then open the message. It’s three words long.
95%. You star!
That’s it. Three short but powerful words that send me soaring. I jump up and grab hold of the pole by the bus driver and press the stop button. I’m smiling so hard I must look like a lunatic, but then I’m already drunk so nobody will be surprised.
‘This isn’t your stop,’ the bus driver says.
But I ignore him. I know where I am now and it’s only two more stops. The walk will do me good. He pulls the bus to a halt and I jump off, walking on air.
Now the effects of the alcohol are wearing off, I begin to feel the cold as I head home. It’s quiet out here and my footsteps echo into the night. I’m almost at the flat when an arm grabs me from behind and a rough, large hand covers my mouth. I’m dragged backwards, and shoved into the back seat of a car before I even have a chance to panic.
Within seconds, fear sets in. But I won’t scream. I need to stay calm.
I turn around to face my attacker, who has me pinned down now so I can’t move. He’s a large man and even though I don’t recognise his face – narrow eyes set too close together, receding hair that looks brown, though it’s hard to tell in the dark – I know this is not random.
This man has been waiting for me.
‘Josie,’ he says, his voice deep and familiar. He sounds a bit like Johnny. Memories flood back to me. ‘Finally we meet. I think we need to have a bit of a chat, don’t you?’
I struggle beneath his heavy arms. ‘No. Let me out of this fucking car.’