‘That’s it, walk right up to the window. I want everyone to see what a disgusting, fat, dirty whore you really are.’
I gripped hold of the sill and looked out at the cars below. Maybe if one of them saw me they’d realize something was wrong and call the police. I dismissed the thought almost as soon as it crossed my mind. No, they wouldn’t. This was London. No one cared enough to call the police. I heard a noise behind me and spun round, sure James was about to push me to my death and came face to face with an anglepoise lamp, the bright bulb pointed upwards, blinding me.
‘Turn back around,’ James said. ‘I want the world to see how ugly and flawed you are. I want them to see how riddled with flab and cellulite and stretch marks and saddle bags. I want them to look at your saggy breasts and your enormous thighs and I want them to wonder how anyone could ever have stomached making love to you. How anyone could have loved this,’ he prodded me in the side.
I fought back tears but said nothing. If this was James’s punishment for me sleeping with Steve then so be it. There were worse things than public humiliation, far worse.
‘Ever wonder why I stopped sleeping with you, Suzy?’ He paused for a reaction then continued anyway. ‘When this is how you look? Do you have any idea how much of a turn-off men find a body like yours?’
A tear dribbled down my cheek. Fucking bastard. When this was over, when he finally ended my ordeal I’d run so far away from him he’d never find me again.
‘And to think I felt guilty for going back to prostitutes?’ He stifled a laugh and I realized I must have stiffened in surprise. ‘I just couldn’t bear making love to a fat, lardy lump any more. And you were never very good at sucking dick.’
‘Right.’ The sofa creaked as he stood up and the room suddenly dimmed. He must have turned the lamp off. ‘Enough entertainment. I want to know why you fucked Steve, how many times you fucked Steve, how you fucked him and whether,’ he grabbed hold of my hair and yanked me backwards, ‘you laughed at me the whole fucking time?’
‘James no!’ I twisted and fought, hitting him, scratching him and kicking him as he dragged me across the room and bent me over the glass table in the corner of the room. ‘Just let me go. Please.’
‘Let you go?’ I heard the zip of his fly open and then the weight of his chest on my back as he hissed in my ear. ‘Suzy, I’m never going to let you go. Never. You’re a filthy whore but you’re my whore. And besides,’ he lifted my head from the glass then smashed it back down again, ‘I want you to apologise to Mother. She had a heart attack when she saw what I’d done to your room, what you made me do. I want you to spend the rest of your life apologizing, to both of us. Now then,’ he kicked my legs apart and pressed his penis against my anus, ‘did Steve fuck you here?’
I stared across at the batik wall hanging and let the wide white eyes hypnotise me. My mind went blank as I slipped into the gaping dark mouth and disappeared.
Chapter 23
‘Sue, get in.’
I look round, expecting to stare into the cold grey eyes of my ex-boyfriend, but there’s no one behind me.
‘Sue Jackson?’
A black Mercedes with tinted windows draws up alongside me and a man beckons from one of the passenger windows. He looks familiar but I can’t quite place—
‘Steve Torrance.’ He flashes me an electric smile and I recognize the dazzling white teeth. Alex Henri’s agent. I saw his picture on the internet. He disappears back into the car and the door opens. ‘Get in.’
I glance behind me again but there’s no one there. The alley is empty too. I can’t have imagined James running behind me. He was there, I saw his face. Where’s he gone? Did Steve’s car startle him into the shadows? Is he waiting for him to leave before he makes his move?
‘Look, Sue,’ Steve’s face appears next to the open door. ‘I’m a very busy man. Get in or tell me to fuck off, just hurry the fuck up.’
I falter. Try and flag a taxi to Victoria and risk James reappearing or get in a car with a man I’ve never met before?
Steve’s smile widens as I open the door. He moves across into the other passenger seat, leaving the one nearest me empty. I look round one last time – the street is still empty – then slip into the car and lock the door behind me. A shadow crosses my window and I jerk away from the door. ‘Can we just go now, please. Drive!’
The driver, an older man wearing a peaked cap pulled low over his eyes twists round. ‘Who’d you think you are – Robert de Niro? This is the West End, love, not New Bloody York.’
He glances at Steve Torrance who raises an eyebrow then turns to look at me, the smile still fixed firmly in place. ‘Where would you like to go, Sue?’
‘Victoria.’ I pull my handbag close, one eye still on the street. I keep expecting James to yank open the door and pull me into the street.
The driver shrugs, taps his indicator and we pull away. The road is gridlocked with traffic and it takes an age to get to the end of the street. It’s only when we hit a pedestrian-free road that I allow myself to relax.
Steve Torrance glances up from his BlackBerry. ‘How much?’
I say nothing, assuming he’s talking to the driver.
‘How much?’ he says again, briefly catching my eye before he looks back at his phone.
I grip my bag to my chest. ‘How much what?’
‘To keep quiet.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Look Sue,’ he leans back in his seat and tucks his mobile into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Let’s not fanny about. Your big song and dance act in the club got you noticed, congratulations. Let’s just hope there weren’t any journalists with mobile phones set to record or this conversation is as redundant as Bob Diamond.’ He laughs at his own joke. ‘So come on, how much is it going to take to stop you going to the papers?’
It takes a couple of seconds for what he’s saying to sink in.
‘You think that’s why I did it? I confronted Alex because I wanted paying off?’