I stare at him, unable to understand where this is coming from. ‘You just had to go. Okay. Right.’
‘I needed you to go to the police, Josie, that was the main thing. That’s all that matters here. You did do it, didn’t you? Please tell me you went through with it.’
I don’t answer. It feels like this is no longer his business. He’s clearly decided to wash his hands of it, and me, so I won’t provide him with details now.
‘Well, I hope you did,’ he says when he realises he’s getting nothing out of me. ‘I really hope you’ll be okay now. But…’
Ever since I was a child I’ve always believed there was one thing I could do quite well – and that’s being able to know what people think of me. To see beyond their words, their actions, and know for sure whether they like me or not, and to what degree. It’s not something I’ve ever questioned, and maybe everyone has this ability, but right now I know that Zach Hamilton has feelings for me that go beyond student and lecturer, beyond friendship. Despite the fact that he’s trying his best to dismiss me.
I could stop him right now and save him the trouble of what he’s about to say, but I need to hear it. He needs to be honest with me, just as I’ve been with him about my past.
He lets out a huge sigh. ‘Oh, Josie, you’re… I just think we need to take a step back a bit. I’m happy to help you with any university things, but I… I think we need to… I’m just… I feel like I’m in a bit of a sticky situation here. It’s tricky with friendships, isn’t it? People get invested in each other and then all kinds of things can happen. I just… I need—’
‘I get it,’ I say. He needs his life to go back to the way it was before he met me, before I crowded his mind too much with my baggage. With me. But I want him to say it. ‘But just tell me one thing. I’m not imagining things, am I?’
He glances at the door then gives the tiniest shake of his head.
Without another word I stand up and leave. I completely understand it now.
* * *
A few hours later I have reached a new low. It’s one thing to drown your sorrows with alcohol in a club or bar, but another to do it totally alone in your bedroom, the soundtrack to your despair your flatmate’s hushed tones as she speaks to someone on the phone, trying her best to make sure you can’t hear a word.
But here I am, sprawled on my bed and drinking straight from a bottle of vodka, my throat burning as it goes down. Usually the stuff makes me gag, but tonight it’s an anaesthetic, taking me further away from Zach, and Alison, and Liv.
In the next room, Alison’s voice starts to get louder, and there can only be one reason for this. ‘I just can’t stand her,’ she says – and I don’t have to be a genius to know she’s talking about me. There’s a long pause while the person on the other end of the line speaks. It must be one of her parents; nobody else calls her.
I tune out when she begins again, blasting music from my mobile to mask her nasty comments. I’ve already heard her opinion of me, straight to my face, and I don’t need to hear any more. Nothing she can say about me makes me the person she thinks I am.
For the next couple of hours I stay like this, barely moving, letting music and vodka wash over me. I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere else – a scorching beach in a place I’ve never been. I’m twenty-one years old and I’ve never felt sand beneath my feet. And although I come from a coastal town, the beach is a pebble one and I’ve rarely dipped a toe in the sea.
There is so much I haven’t done because of Liv, so much of my life wasted so far. I need to sober up, because I’m just wasting more time like this, but my body is too heavy, and moving seems way beyond my control.
Just give in to it, Josie. You are more like her than you want to believe. You are your mother’s child.
This is the thought I close my eyes to, and when they snap open again it’s because my phone is vibrating. It’s a text message, and when I realise who it’s from I stare at the words, wondering if the alcohol is playing tricks on my mind. But the message is still there when I look again. I sit up straight and force my eyes to focus.
We need to talk. Please. It’s urgent.
* * *
I could be walking into a trap. I know this, but I still push through the doors of the pub, scanning the room quickly so that I’m not taken by surprise. And there she is, cradling a pint of beer, her hair tied up in a scruffy knot on top of her head. She suits this place, looks comfortable in it, and blends into the background even though she has never set foot in here.
But am I any better? I’m still in a half-drunken daze and don’t quite know how I’ve managed to get here, but somehow I did. The tiny amount of sleep I had, and the cold, bitter air, has helped.
She looks up as I approach her table but doesn’t smile. Of course she doesn’t. Even though she is the one who asked me to come here. I should have ignored her message. This can only lead to trouble. But it’s the first time she has shown willing to talk to me since my attack.
‘Well, well, well… I didn’t think you’d come,’ she snorts. ‘You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?’
I slide into a chair opposite her. ‘I’m not scared of you, Liv. Or that man you sent after me. Or Johnny, or anyone else.’
She laughs and swigs her beer. But it’s all an act. She wants something from me – no, needs something from me – otherwise we wouldn’t be here. I have the upper hand. I have to keep that in mind, whatever she says.
‘No, you’re actually not scared, are you?’ She scrunches her face. ‘You’ve come here on your own, not knowing what to expect. That’s either brave or stupid.’
‘What do you want, Liv?’ I sit back in my chair, trying to relax my body so my mind will follow suit.
‘Don’t you even want a drink? Although from the smell of you I’d say you’ve already had more than enough tonight, haven’t you? Like mother, like daughter. You’re so busy trying to prove you’re nothing like me when we both know the truth, don’t we?’ Her laugh is coarse and throaty. Too many years of smoking… I really have to quit.
‘No, Liv, that’s where you’re wrong. And I’d top myself if I thought for one second I was anything like you.’
She doesn’t answer and the smirk remains on her face. Nothing I ever say bothers her. She doesn’t care who or what she is. But we’ve all got a weakness, haven’t we? And I know exactly what hers is.
‘Why have you come all the way to London tonight? You’ve never stepped out of Brighton before, so what the hell do you want? And who’s looking after Kieren?’
She takes another sip of beer and swills it around her mouth. ‘Actually, I’m here to reason with you, Josie. We’re family, after all, aren’t we?’ She can’t even say the word properly, it sounds like it’s sticking in her throat and she’s choking on the lie.
‘Just cut the shit and tell me what you want, Liv.’
Her eyes narrow and her mouth twists. ‘You need to go to the police, Josie. Tell them it was a mistake and Johnny didn’t do anything to you, like Richard said.’
And now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Really? You came all this way to say that? Do you actually believe I’ll do it? You’re lucky you’re not rotting in prison with him. That’s what you deserve.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Oh, this bullshit again. I’ve told you a thousand times I wasn’t at home, I didn’t see anything that happened to you. Why are you always lying, Josie?’ Her eyes burn into me, defying me to contradict her.
‘There’s no one listening, Liv. I’m not recording this.’ I pull out my mobile to prove it. ‘See. So why don’t you just admit you were there? I saw you.’