He's After Me

Chapter TWENTY-THREE



It’s good to be at Zoe’s again. She lives in one of those tall, draughty, Victorian terraces and I’d forgotten how much I love spending time here. Tonight we’ve got the house to ourselves. They’ve an open fire and we end up making mountains of toast, blackened and burnt but dripping with butter, and totally delicious. We wash it all down with mugs of strong, sweet tea. Mine comes in the Best Friend mug I’d bought Zoe for her twelfth birthday.

‘Just what I needed,’ I say with satisfaction, placing the empty mug down beside me. ‘Aahh. Can’t believe you’ve still got this old thing.’

‘Of course! I’m still your BFF, aren’t I?’

‘You bet!’ I grin at her. I don’t know what I’d do without Zoe. We’ve been through everything together. School, college, periods; first bras, first dates, first loves. We’d shared our hopes, our dreams, our innermost thoughts. Nobody knew me as well as Zoe.

Until now.

She smiles back at me. ‘You OK, Anna?’

Suddenly I want to tell her. Everything. I want to say I’m worried sick because Jem and I have had a row. I want to say he rang me straight back but I turned my phone off because I need time to think. I want to say that this relationship with Jem, it’s amazing, but it’s running away with me, it’s all going too fast. It’s taking me places I’m not sure I want to go …

‘Why does everyone keep asking me if I’m OK?’ I say, but it comes out wrong. I sound irritable.

‘Because they’re worried about you?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not fine. Ever since …’ She pauses.

‘Ever since what?’ But I know what she’s going to say.

‘Ever since you’ve been going out with Jem, you’ve not been yourself.’ It comes out in a rush.

Why did I think I could talk to her? She doesn’t like Jem. I stare at her balefully.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Who have I been then?’

‘I don’t know! Someone different. Someone I don’t recognize,’ she says wildly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re always at his beck and call, Anna. He’s for ever ringing you, checking up on you, keeping tabs on what you’re doing.’

‘He’s not ringing me now, is he?’ I say triumphantly. Got her! ‘Anyway, he is my boyfriend. That’s what people do when they’re going out together. Look what you were like with Max.’

‘I know. That’s the point. I was besotted with him. I couldn’t see what a loser he was …’

‘Jem’s not a loser!’

‘I never said he was! But you’ve changed, Anna, admit it. It’s like he’s taken you over; all you ever think about is him. You’re not getting your work done, you’re knackered all the time …’

‘Who are you, my mother? And she really likes him, by the way.’

‘Yeah, but she doesn’t know what you’re up to with him, night after night, does she?’

‘What we get up to is our business!’

‘I’m not talking sex, Anna!’ she says, her cheeks aflame.

I stare at her, horrified. Zoe knows. She knows that we’re JAWS.

She tries again, voice gentler now, her hand on my arm.

‘Anna, I care about you …’

I shake it off, leaping to my feet.

‘No you don’t, you’re jealous.’

‘Jealous?’

‘Yeah! Because I’ve got someone and you haven’t.’

She stares at me, the colour draining from her face. She’d had sex, once, with Max, and then he’d left her. She’d felt used, abandoned. I was the only one who knew.

‘That’s not fair …’

‘You’re not fair, interfering in my life. Mind your own business. Leave us alone.’

What was the matter with me? I never knew I could be so cruel.

‘Piss off!’ she says.

‘I’m going, don’t worry.’ I stumble to my feet, sending the Best Friend mug flying against the grate. There’s a loud crack as it breaks in two. I grab my bag and coat and head for the door.

Outside a mist has come in but I hardly notice it as I run down the street, sobbing. Just who does she think she is?

At the end of the road I turn into a street of large semi-detached houses, set back from the pavement in gardens hidden by high, thick hedges. I come to a halt, my chest heaving, and scrub my wet face with my sleeve. Then I take a deep breath and swing my bag up on to my shoulder. Time to go home.

I set off down the long street, my heeled shoes echoing loudly in the silence. There is no one about and it’s as black as pitch. A solitary car comes slowly towards me, its dipped lights bouncing back from the impenetrable murk. A cat streaks out of a garden and brings me to a halt with a squeal of fright.

I carry on walking again, my heart thudding. I don’t feel safe in this dark, empty street with its high hedges and open gates where anyone could be lurking, waiting to pull you into their clutches. A tall bush looms in the driveway of a house. For a second I think it’s a man and I freak out.

The road is longer than I thought, the end of it shrouded in fog. I feel disorientated and stop abruptly, wondering if I’m going the wrong way. I turn around to get my bearings, and out of the corner of my eye I think I can see a shadowy figure, but I blink and it’s gone.

I peer into the gloom, rigid with fear. Don’t be silly, there is no one there, it’s your imagination playing tricks on you. But my heart is beating so fast it feels as if it is going to burst right through my chest. I turn around again and continue walking down the road, faster this time, my heels ringing out a desolate tune in the darkness.

And then I hear it. Quiet, but unmistakable. A soft, insidious undertone beneath the regular rhythm of my loud, clacky heels.

I stop and it stops.

I start and it starts too.

I quicken my pace and it speeds up.

Someone is following me.

I whiz around, my heart in my mouth, and I spot him, some way behind me. He stops but it’s too late. I’ve seen him.

I shriek and now I am running as fast as I can down the pitch-dark street. He is chasing me. He’s not trying to be quiet now. He’s after me.

I can feel him gaining on me, closer and closer. I can hear his breathing, loud and rasping. I can sense him reaching for me, lunging forward … and I scream, as loud as I can, for the one person I know who would help me …

‘JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!’