He's After Me

Chapter FORTY-TWO



I don’t notice it at first. When the bell goes and I walk out of college with Zoe, I pause on the top step to look for Dad. I know he’ll be here somewhere, waiting for me.

I spot him straight away. He’s got out of the car and is staring up at the college building. He’s not the only one. As students pour out through the doors and mill about in the car park, waiting for buses, chatting among themselves, getting into cars, I notice something catching their eye above my head. People start pointing. A crowd gathers, looking up at the building. Most of them look stunned; one or two are sniggering.

‘What’s going on?’ asks Zoe and she bounds down the steps and looks back. ‘Oh, no!’ she breathes, her eyes widening with horror. ‘Don’t look, Anna.’

I take the steps two at a time and turn around to gaze up at the building. Just below the flat roof of the main reception, a message has been sprayed in huge scarlet letters.

Anna Williams is a Bitch and a Slut!

Bizarrely, my first thought is: That’s not up to your usual standard, Jem. You must have thrown that one up quickly, up there on the roof in the middle of the day. Did you hang upside down to do it? I’ve seen you do that before. Shame you had to sacrifice aesthetics for speed.

Still, he’d managed to sign it. Only now the savage head of JAWS has disappeared. His tag is back to the solitary, but just as vicious, Fin.

Good. Now leave me alone.

I feel oddly disconnected from it all, like I’m an observer, not the subject, of all this vitriol. I can hear people whispering. Mates gather round, outraged, giving me support, and weirdly, it’s me that’s consoling them. ‘It’s OK,’ I say to Ben, who is shocked to the core. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ My dad comes towards me and puts out his arms and I turn into him, my face pressed against his chest. His arms lock around me and I can feel him trembling. Poor Dad. I pat his back, comforting him.

I hate Jem for what he’s done to me. Even more, I hate him for what he’s putting Dad through. No father should see his daughter’s name blackened like this.

What did Dad ever do to him?

We drive home together, silent, chastened. As we draw up outside the house, we stare in horror at the front door.

He’s been here too.