Fiona waved the plastic cigarette casually. ‘Nothing.’
Alex knew she was lying. ‘Fiona, did you think what happened last year was my fault, that I asked for it?’
Fiona’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened. ‘Babe, don’t be stupid. You weren’t to know that would happen, even if you did fancy him.’
Alex looked away. It was clear Fiona believed that some of it was her fault, implying that she was so besotted she had walked into the situation blindly.
‘And what about what’s happened to me recently? My car? And the night I was found in the car park? Do you think this is all in my head, Fiona?’
Fiona sighed. ‘Look, babe, a lot’s going on in your life at the moment. You know you’re a sensitive soul, don’t you? That brain of yours has a capacity to overthink things sometimes. None of us knows how we’ll react when we’re stressed.’
‘Like making a drug error?’
Fiona shook her head. ‘You said you didn’t do it. I believe you. And so did Dr bloody Fielding. Cheeky cow. Talk about doctors sticking together.’
‘They don’t,’ Alex protested. ‘I’m sorry she said that to you. She .?.?. she probably just knows I’ve been having a rough time.’
‘OK,’ Fiona conceded. ‘I believe you, and she’s right of course. Like I said, none of us knows how we’ll react in times of .?.?. and I don’t mean you caused that drug error.’
‘But perhaps I painted the car myself?’ Alex asked sharply.
Fiona shook her head. ‘Alex, there’s no way you could have done that. You were at a party, for God’s sake.’
Alex felt like crying. Why couldn’t Fiona have just said, what are the police doing about it? Or, we need to find out who did that? Or, you need to be careful because someone is stalking you, doesn’t like you, is trying to scare you. Instead she had given a lame reason to explain why Alex couldn’t have done the actual deed. Leaving gaps large enough for Alex to fall through.
‘Hey, Miss Moneypenny, you want me to whisk you away from all these bad men?’
Alex stared in amusement. Fiona really should have gone on the stage. She was a born entertainer.
‘You fancy a kebab?’ Fiona yelled in her own voice.
Alex didn’t, but she would agree to anything to get out of this place. She was rattled by what Fiona had said. Their friendship was important to her, but at this moment it felt a little false, and it left her with a bad taste in her mouth.
‘Why don’t we get a takeaway and go back to mine instead?’
Fiona grinned. ‘Now you’re talking. But on one condition .?.?. I get the bed.’
*
Alex yawned as she settled under her spare duvet on her couch. She was comforted by the thought of Fiona sleeping in the next room. The night had ended earlier than expected; it was only just gone one and she was pleased at the thought of not waking up tomorrow hung-over.
Conversations from the present and past played on her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut to banish Fiona’s voice from her head. She loved Fiona and didn’t want these negative thoughts. Regrettably she had a good memory and she would always remember what Fiona said a year ago, Are you sure that it was as bad as you say it was, babe? Are sure you didn’t lead him on, give out the wrong signals?
Turning sharply onto her side she thumped her pillow, willing away these dark memories. She would not give into self-pity. Fiona had been brilliant to her after it happened, had insisted Alex stay at her place until she was mentally strong enough, had helped her find this apartment. Without Fiona she would not have coped. She focused her mind on pleasant thoughts, sunny days, beach scenes, blue skies, silky sand, Nathan’s eyes .?.?.
The shrill of the telephone jerked her wide awake.
Her mind grappled with several thoughts. What day was it? Was it the hospital, or Patrick, or her mother? She grabbed the receiver to shut off the noise and mumbled hello.
‘Soon .?.?.’ the voice said, and her breath caught in her throat. His one word seared her brain and took over her entire being.
She unclenched her jaw and stuttered her plea. ‘P-Please.’ His silence stretched, then he spoke again.
‘I’m coming back for you soon.’
Shaking uncontrollably, the receiver fell from her hand, and when Fiona touched her, she jerked as if electrocuted. ‘Christ, don’t tell me you’re on call again?’ she pleaded with Alex.
Alex couldn’t talk. Small whimpers struggled from her throat. She stood rooted with fear.
‘Christ alive .?.?. I’ll say it’s my fault. Or better still, I’ll say you’re ill. Let me—’
Her scream silenced Fiona. Then neat vodka, forced on her by Fiona, burned her throat before words formed and she told Fiona that he’d called.
‘I’m calling the police!’
Alex shook her head. ‘They won’t believe me.’
Her chin lifted determinedly ‘They’ll believe me! They’ll trace the call!’
Alex laughed, a hysterical sound. ‘They will never trace him! And what can you tell them? That you heard a phone ringing? That you found me shaking in my shoes? They won’t believe me, Fiona. They think this is in my head.’
Chapter twenty-three
Laura Best dug her elbow sharply into the ribs of the young man sleeping beside her. He called out resentfully and wriggled further away. Not giving up, she shook his shoulder hard and spoke loudly in his ear. ‘Oi, sleepy head. Time to go home.’
Bleary eyed, Dennis Morgan raised his head off the pillow. ‘I can’t drive. I’ve been drinking.’
‘Get a taxi, then,’ she said.
‘But my car?’
‘I’ll bring it to work in the morning.’
‘But then I’ll have to get a taxi to work as well.’
‘Not my fault, Dennis. You shouldn’t have assumed you could sleep over.’
‘Well you shouldn’t have opened the wine,’ he snapped, now wide awake and looking at her with disbelief. ‘Are you serious? You really want me to leave?’
With her head raised higher than his, because she was half propped up in bed, he saw her nod.
‘I don’t believe this!’ he said, sounding completely astounded. ‘What did I do?’
‘We finished, Dennis,’ she stated calmly.
He flushed, angrily. The meaning of her words doused any notion that she was only half serious. They’d had sex, and now she wanted him gone. Scrambling out of the bed, he scurried around looking for his clothes.
‘What’s your problem? I wasn’t going to walk out of here and let the neighbours see me. I would have been discreet!’
‘The neighbours don’t worry me, Dennis. Sharing my bed does.’
He stopped in the process of buckling his belt. ‘Thank you very fucking much. I thought making love usually led to sharing a bed.’
She gave an amused smile. ‘Don’t take it personally. It really isn’t.’
He was angrily throwing on his jacket now. ‘Sure. Nothing personal in sex, right? I’ll take my car tonight, thank you very much. Not sure I want you in it any more.’
She sighed theatrically, impervious to his distress. ‘Keep to the back lanes then, there’ll be less chance of you being seen.’