He flipped over to face me. ‘We weren’t engaged then.’
‘That’s what this is about? Us getting engaged?’ A wave of fear crashed over me. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Us getting engaged changes things.’ He sat up, resting his back against the wall. ‘You’ll be my wife one day Suzy and I can’t deal with the fact that you’ve been with so many men.’
‘But I haven’t. I’ve only—’
‘Fifteen,’ James said and I cringed. Why had I been so honest with him on our second date? ‘Why? You gave your cherry away to a one-night stand who used you like a dirty wank rag.’
I prickled but said nothing. It wasn’t worth it. At least James had stopped raging and was speaking in a more measured, almost reflective, tone.
‘I waited,’ he continued. ‘I waited and I waited to meet the woman who’d saved herself for me but, time and time again, just when I thought I’d met “the one” I’d find out she was a dirty slag like all the others. Do you know what I did?’ He reached up and grabbed my wrist, yanking me towards him so our faces were millimeters apart. ‘Do you know what I did when I finally accepted there was no such thing as a soulmate and that the world was laughing at me? I gave my virginity to a prostitute!’ He spat out a laugh, spraying me with saliva. ‘Yes, an actual slag. Why give it to an amateur when I could give it to a pro?’
I said nothing. James was scaring me, the way he was staring at me, his fingers pressed into my wrist, his hot beery breath flooding my nostrils. I’d never seen him look so angry, never seen him glower at me with such hatred and resentment. I wanted to reason with him, to apologise to him, to commiserate with him. Instead I said nothing and bit down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying.
‘I never expected to fall in love with you.’ His voice fell to a whisper. ‘I thought you were another good time girl I’d have fun with but,’ he leaned away and traced the shape of my lips with his index finger, ‘there’s more to you than a regrettable past. You’ve got a beautiful soul, Suzy. That’s why I gave you my grandmother’s ring, the most precious thing I own. I hate that other men have fucked you and they didn’t realize what a precious, precious jewel they held in their arms. I want to destroy them, one by one, until your past is obliterated and there’s just me and you in the here and now.’ I must have made a noise, some squeak of surprise because he added, ‘I’m talking metaphorically of course. I’d never hurt anyone. You know I’d never hurt a fly don’t you, Suzy-Sue? Never.’
The atmosphere in the room was so thick, so charged with emotion, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to break out of James’s arms, throw open the window and gulp huge lungfuls of night air.
‘We’re engaged,’ he continued. ‘It’s a commitment to each other but it’s also a new start. Let’s wipe the past from our lives, Suzy and begin again. Is it too much …’ he glanced at the headboard then back at me, ‘is it too much to ask you to get a new bed?’
I shook my head. Looking at it like that – like we were practically married – it didn’t sound like such an unreasonable suggestion. A new life together and a new bed, it made sense.
Chapter 14
‘And you’re quite sure you saw this person enter your house?’
I’m pretty sure the WPC thinks I’m lying. Which I am.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I was sitting in the garden reading a book when he jumped over the hedge, sprinted across the lawn and made a beeline for the porch door.’
The male officer wanders over to where I’m pointing, to the six-foot privet that separates us from next door, and stands on tiptoes to peer over it. He then crouches down and runs a hand through the undergrowth before standing up and returning to where we are standing.
‘There are no signs of damage.’ He gives me a long look. ‘You’d expect there to be broken branches and scattered leaves and twigs if someone just jumped a hedge that size.’
I shrug. ‘He was very lithe, athletic looking, you know – sporty.’
‘So he vaulted the hedge without touching it?’ The officer raises an eyebrow. ‘That’s some athleticism.’
I cross my arms over my chest then uncross them again. ‘Well, I didn’t actually see the burglar jump it. I heard something and looked up from my book to see him sprinting across the lawn towards the side of the house.’
The officers share a look and a wave of nausea sweeps over me. It seemed like such a plausible story when I was driving back from Woodingdean. I’d tell the police that a burglar was hiding in our home and then there’d be no need to mention my ex-boyfriend and the snow shaker he’d left on my doorstep. The police would check my house was safe – and empty – and I’d risk nothing.
‘What makes you so sure the “burglar” entered your house through the porch door,’ the WPC looks towards the side of the house, ‘when you can’t actually see it from here? For all you know he could have just run off down the driveway.’
‘Because I left the door open.’
She raises an eyebrow.
‘To let the dog wander in and out,’ I add.
‘Right.’ She scribbles something in her notebook.
‘It’s my husband, you see – Brian Jackson, MP for Brighton. We can’t be too careful.’
A look of surprise crosses the WPC’s face. She looks at her colleague who raises his eyebrows as though he’s impressed. Or shocked that Brian would be married to someone like me. Either way, both of them have stopped looking at me like they’re considering charging me with wasting police time.
‘We’ve checked your house.’ The male officer strolls across the lawn, his car in his sights. The WPC indicates, with a nod of her head, that we should follow him. ‘And there was no sign of any kind of disturbance, or an intruder.’