‘Sorry.’ I crouched down, gathering her strewn belongings.
‘Leave them.’ She shielded her possessions with her arms, as though they were precious gems rather than tatty textbooks.
‘It’s okay.’ I picked up a folder. A packet fell out. Yellowish powder inside. ‘What’s this?’
‘None of your business,’ Aaron said.
I hadn’t noticed him appear beside me. He tried to snatch the packet. I closed my fingers around it.
‘Aaron, what are you?…’ My eyes bounced between his face and Lisa’s. The guilt and the shock. The anger. I stepped back. My hand a tight fist.
‘What’s going on, Lisa?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘If it’s nothing, why are you hiding it?’
Lisa caught her lower lip between her teeth.
‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll go to Mr Lemmington.’ My voice rose with anger.
‘It’s an appetite suppressant,’ Lisa snapped.
‘What exactly is it? This appetite suppressant?’
‘Stop fucking shouting, Kat,’ Aaron hissed out his words.
I started to say there was no one in the corridor to overhear, but the expression on his face stopped me.
‘It’s harmless,’ he said. ‘My sister took it.’
‘So they sell this in Boots, do they? If I took it in there, the pharmacist would know what it was?’
There was a beat.
‘What. Is. It?’ I demanded.
‘It’s mephedrone but—’
‘Fuck, Lisa. We studied that in Health class. The effects—’
‘If you take it in large amounts, yes, but I’m not taking it to get high. It’s okay to use as an appetite suppressant in small amounts. Aaron says—’
‘Aaron’s not a bloody doctor, is he?’
‘It’s perfectly safe, Kat,’ Aaron said.
‘No drug is safe.’ I don’t know whether I was furious at Lisa for taking it, or furious with myself for not noticing. ‘That’s why you’ve been having mood swings. I can’t believe you encouraged this,’ I said to Aaron. He folded his arms and glared at me, and suddenly I understood. Why he always had money in the pub but didn’t have a part-time job. How he’d ‘get by’ at uni. ‘You’re the one who gave her it. There was no “special diet” your sister was on. You’re dealing?’
‘I’m not “dealing”. I’m helping teenage girls who want to lose weight. It’s just a bit of cash for uni. No harm done. You’ve got to admit, Lisa looks great now she’s thinner. I’m doing a public service.’
‘You bastard.’ Visions of the films we’d seen during drugs ed replayed in my mind. The long-term effects on mental health. The people who had died. How could he call himself Lisa’s friend?
‘I’m reporting you.’ I had to, didn’t I? I couldn’t let him ruin lives.
‘Don’t, Kat. People will get the wrong idea. It’s small quantities. A diet aid, that’s all.’
I hesitated. Was that really all he was doing? Selling small amounts to girls? But then I remembered Perry approaching Aaron at his party: ‘Got me a pressie?’ he’d asked, clearly off his face.
‘I don’t believe you,’ I said quietly.
It happened in an instant. My back slamming against the lockers; his hands around my throat. The smell of lager as he snarled: ‘If you report me, I could get arrested. Lose my place at uni. I swear, Kat, if you tell, if you ruin my future, I’ll fucking kill you if it’s the last thing I do.’
29
Now
‘Are you sure you have to go?’ I perch on the edge of the bed as Nick pulls shirts from hangers, socks from drawers, folding them neatly into his overnight bag. He looks pale and exhausted, and I know I should be supporting him, packing for him, but the encounter with Aaron at the hospital has shaken me to the core, despite him slinking away when Lisa put herself between us and told him to ‘fuck off’. There’s something odd about that encounter that niggles at the back of my mind, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. I’ve barely slept these past two weeks. I find myself constantly looking out of the window. Convinced I can hear footsteps crunching on the gravel. I’ve taken to leaving the curtains drawn all day. The footprints in the snow much on my mind again, and I try to recall the size of Aaron’s feet. Was it him who was here? Paranoia has wrapped itself around me like ivy and, much to my shame, I have noticed Nick talks slower now, as though I might have trouble understanding, and I do. It often sounds as though he is speaking from far away. Even the weatherman predicting the fast-approaching May will be one of the warmest on record for years, doesn’t lift my mood. Someone is trying to scare me, I know, and when I insist again someone is watching the house, Nick looks at me. His eyes full of concern. Full of pity.
‘Sorry. I told you I’d have to go back to the site. It’s unavoidable.’ Nick closes the lid of the case, zipping it up. ‘Please try and relax, Kat. I’m worried about you. You hardly seem fit to look after yourself. We could have a baby here in as little as three months.’
His words are bruising, but worse than that, is the feeling he is right.
‘I’m trying.’ I know he wants me to say I am fine, but I can’t, so I say what I think I should be feeling. ‘It’s just Lisa’s pregnancy seems endless and after Dewei and Mai… I’m so scared something will go wrong this time too.’ With the words, tears come and I think perhaps I have inadvertently spoken the truth. I am scared I’ll never become a mum so I am projecting my fear onto something else, something imagined, because if I stop to think about all the things that could go wrong with this baby, I would drive myself mad.
The mattress sags as Nick sits, wrapping his arm around me. I lean my head against his shoulder.
‘Don’t you think I feel the same way? It’s hard to stay positive when you’ve been through what we have. I have those “what if” thoughts too. Something could go wrong with the birth. Lisa might bond with the baby and not sign the residency order; the court might not approve the payments, but we can’t let our doubts shadow this experience.’
‘I know. Sorry.’ I sniff hard, feeling closer to him than I have in weeks. ‘I could come with you?’
‘To a building site? Not much fun. Besides, you’ve got your rehearsal, and Lisa’s coming to stay, isn’t she?’
Immediately my mood lifts. I’m so looking forward to spending time with Lisa, talking babies.
Nick carries on packing, throwing his toiletries into his washbag, and I try not to mind that he’s taking the Boss aftershave I bought him for Christmas, not the Body Shop one he usually wears to work.
‘I’ll just use the loo and I’ll be off.’ The en-suite door clicks shut, and I sit on the bed, miserably picking at a hangnail. I hate goodbyes. I’m relieved as the landline starts to ring and I run downstairs.
I am puffed out as I pick up the handset; we really should get another one upstairs but we rarely use it. Even now I wait for the mechanical PPI tone to kick in, wondering why I ever bothered answering it at all. Instead there is silence, and I say hello several times before putting down the phone.
‘That’s odd,’ I say to Nick as seconds later he hefts his bag downstairs. ‘There was no one there.’
‘Probably a call centre in India; they can’t always connect.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Right, I’m off.’ Nick pulls his coat out of the cloakroom. ‘Have you seen my scarf?’
‘The one I bought you for Christmas? No. Hopefully you won’t need it. Hot weather is coming. Apparently.’ We still have our heating on for now.
Nick is distracted as he kisses me goodbye. I pull him into a hug, burying my head in his chest, and he squeezes me tightly. ‘Everything is fine,’ he says, even though I haven’t asked. It’s as though he is trying to reassure himself.