by CS Savage
The restaurant was small, narrow but long. He ushered her through the dim lighting towards the rear, nodded at a waiter who immediately gave him a small bow. 'Welcome back, Mr Fariq, your table.’
As Rowan took a seat, he picked up her napkin, flicked it and gently placed it over her lap. Just wait until I tell Amy about this. Fariq picked up the wine menu, casually ran his eyes down it, and then pointed out his choice to the waiter without looking at Rowan for assent. He did the same with the food, ordering them both Calamari for starters and medium rare steak and salad for main. She didn't mention she didn't really like seafood. She wasn't hungry, anyway – her appetite had deserted her.
'Let's say a toast to us.' They both raised their glasses, gulped. He quickly reached over and topped her up before gently replacing the bottle in the ice bucket. The silence seemed slightly awkward.
Rowan braced herself and risked starting a conversation. 'Have you had a hard week at work?'
He flipped a lock of hair behind his ear before he answered. 'So, so. Business is good, can't complain,' he added. She was about to ask him more about it when he interrupted her,
'Let's not talk business. Can we just enjoy the evening?'
She felt her cheeks redden. She was only making conversation, didn't know why he had to be so secretive. He seemed to notice her discomfort, stretched his arm across the table and placed his hand over hers.
'Look, I don't mean to be rude. Just don't want to be reminded of work. I'm so pleased you followed my request, by the way. You've done a good job. Have I told you about my perfect woman?'
Rowan shook her head, her mouth dry.
'I'm looking for a young lady who is beautiful, obedient, pure.'
'Of course.'
Before she could continue, he interrupted her, speaking quietly but in a steely tone. 'Are you a virgin?' He looked straight into her eyes.
Rowan nearly choked on her wine. She jerked her head back, put her hand across her mouth.
'I'm sorry to have to ask so bluntly, but it is very important to me. I cannot conceive of being with a woman who has already been…' he hesitated, '…defiled.' He finished his sentence with an icy tone, as if all women who had had sex were vermin.
Rowan felt a shiver, like a snowflake, run down her spine. Made a snap decision. How would he ever know any different? All this business about bleeding the first time was rubbish, if it was important to him, then she would play along. She took his hand, squeezed it again. 'Yes.'
His gaze remained on her, burnt into her for what seemed like minutes, but then, he retrieved his hand, picked up his knife and fork, and continued eating.
As the meal progressed, her mind started to wander, her thoughts jumbling up. She became aware he was staring at her again, seemed to be waiting for a response.
'Sorry. I missed that,' she mumbled.
'I was asking if you've had a boyfriend before?' he said, his expression was again grave.
She knew her answer was important, tried hard to think of what to say. Eventually, she replied, 'Nothing serious. Just the odd date here and there.'
'Good.' His eyes softened. 'I wanted to be the first.' The tension seemed to dissipate.
Rowan stumbled as they exited the restaurant. Fariq clutched her arm, leant into her for support. The walk to the car seemed longer, but eventually, they were there. He opened the door, and she slid into the seat. The engine hummed, she leant back into the head rest and shut her eyes. What seemed like moments later, the car pulled into the kerb, and she woke with a start, opened her eyes, recognised the houses at the end of her street. Her skirt had ridden up, and pale strips of thigh were visible above her stocking tops. Embarrassed, she tugged the material downwards, but he reached across, stopped her.
'Don't…you're beautiful.' He stared down, rubbed his finger along his top lip, eyes glazed. 'I would love to take you home, but not yet. I need to be sure you are the one…' Slipping his hand into his side pocket, he pulled out his wallet, and again pulled out fifty-pound notes, handed her a few.
'You need new lingerie. Make sure you get satin, silk, and white. And get your nails done. Next week, I will take you out again, this time, a surprise.' He leant across, gently pressed his lips to hers. She smelt the spiciness of his cologne. And then, he flipped open her door and waved her out. She staggered onto the street, her mouth dry as she wobbled towards her front door, rummaging for her key.
45
Clancy
'Hi, have you got a minute? I was just wondering how you were getting on with that SCID assessment?'
It was raining stair rods, the sound of drumming water bounced around the office, the musty smell of damp filtering through the air. There was a bucket by the kitchen door, collecting drips from the leaking ceiling. Every radiator in sight seemed to be covered with brightly-coloured clothing hanging to dry. Clancy had knocked on Emily's door, found her hard at work at her desk. Emily was smartly dressed in a black shift dress, tights and loafers, not a hair out of place. Clancy glanced down at her own outfit, grimaced.
Emily's knife-edge fringe hardly moved despite a vigorous nod of her head. 'Well…he's completed the screening questionnaire. I had a look through it yesterday. I've just scored it. It's coming up high for Narcissistic, Paranoid and Antisocial Personality Disorder.' She passed the questionnaire to Clancy. 'I was going to offer him an appointment for the clinical interview.'
'Well, that would fit. He always makes me feel like he's having some secret joke at my expense – difficult to put my finger on, but narcissistic would sum it up nicely. Shall I tell him you want to see him?'
'If you could.' Emily reached for an appointment card, her manicured nail flashing like a weapon, checked her diary and wrote in the date and time with a Silver Cross pen. It amazed Clancy how anyone could be so smart and organised. She took the card and headed back to her office, pondering over the results. Interesting. No wonder she was struggling to treat him with medicine, it would take intensive psychotherapy to change him. Not that he would ever agree to it. Sitting at her desk, she opened up the completed SCID II questionnaire and flicked through, looking at some of his answers. He had said yes to the question, Do you often feel that your teachers or doctors know less than you? She puffed a laugh out of her nostrils, put the questionnaire down and started to work through her never-ending emails.
Three hours later, after dealing with a pile of letters and admin, she logged off, got her coat, left her office. She had just reached the exit of her building when she heard footsteps behind her. As she spun around, her phone flew from her hand. Then, she clocked Dan standing behind her, a vein throbbing visibly on his temple.
'Do you have to creep up on me like that?' she snapped, leaning down to pick up her phone, checking the screen for cracks. She could see the yellow of his teeth as his mouth curled into a sneer.
'Well, I can understand you'd be jumpy. Why haven't you told me about these letters? And that man assaulting you?' She watched the spittle fly from the corner of his mouth as he shouted, couldn't help herself taking a step backwards. He took a step closer to her, she could still feel his breath foul on her face. 'When are you going to remember that I'm the manager around here?'
Clancy turned her face to the side to avoid the stale smell of coffee, almost felt herself retch. She was just starting to feel panicky, her claustrophobia screaming at her, when she heard the clack of heels down the corridor, could see Emily tottering towards them, her mouth in a perfect red “O.” Before Clancy could speak, Dan had stood back, his cheeks still flushed but his stance altered, as if he had been part way through a chatty conversation.
'What's going on?' Emily asked.
'Nothing for you to worry yourself about,' Dan replied, before turning on his heel and sauntering towards the staircase.
Clancy and Emily stared at his back as he left.
'God, he's a pain in the butt. You ok?' Emily said.
'Didn't know you felt the same way.'
'Hard not to if you're femal
e.'
They walked out into the car park together. The rain was abating, but the air was still heavy and damp, great expanses of water settled in puddles.
'See you. And, thanks again,' Clancy said giving a small wave before climbing into her car. She felt numb, couldn't believe what had just happened, how angry he had been. And Dr Vikaj thought it was she who had the problem.
On the way home, she stopped at the Co-op to get some staples and something for dinner; quiche and salad, coleslaw. Amazing how much more healthily they'd been eating since Beth had been staying with them. She mentally counted the number of days Beth had lodged – fifteen. And whether or not it was the company or the Olanzapine she was responding to, she was starting to pick up. She wasn't talking about hearing voices, had stopped flinching and looking over her shoulder at every street noise. She should, really, be moving back home soon.
When she got in, the girls were lounging in their usual positions. She could make out the low murmuring of chatter over the background noise of some soap on the TV. As soon as she got to the kitchen, Beth joined her.
'I'm going to go and visit the flat tomorrow, check it's ok. I've put you both out for long enough. I'm so grateful to you both, but I know I'm feeling better now, I need to get back on with my life.'
Clancy smiled. 'You haven't put us out at all. It's been a pleasure having you.' And she meant it. 'There's no rush for leaving completely…perhaps go for the day and come back in the evening, let us know how it's gone?'
'Perfect. And it'll be fine. I'm going to ring work, try to get back next week.'
'Take your time. Don't rush it,' Clancy said. But Beth had already left.
46
Clancy
What were piles of egg shells doing in her garden? At least six of them, encased by sticky yolk. She looked up at the window, felt irritation itch at her. There were slimy smears on the kitchen window, tracks of egg and egg shell running down the glass. She looked to the window above, Rowan's bedroom window. There was egg evidence to the side and just below. Someone had been throwing eggs at the back of the house, and it looked like they had been aiming at Rowan's window. She was going to have to speak to Rowan, see if she could throw any light on it. There was no reply when she knocked on Ro’s door, so she turned the door handle, pushed it open. She could make out the shape of her in the centre of the bed.
'Rowan. I need to speak to you.' She reached over, gently shook her shoulder.
Rowan grumbled, stirred. 'What? What's the time?'
'It's early, sorry.'
Rowan sat up, rubbed her eyes. 'What's wrong?'
'Someone's been throwing eggs in the garden, at the windows. It looks like they were aiming for yours. Have you any idea who would do that? Have you fallen out with anyone?'
Rowan looked puzzled, still half asleep. And she was obviously irritable – she never liked being woken up. She shook her head, her curls bouncing round her face. 'No. What do you mean? Eggs?'
Clancy shrugged. 'Eggs. Thrown all over the patio and around your window. Did you hear anything in the night?'
Rowan shook her head. 'No, nothing.'
'Have you any idea who might do that?'
Rowan shook her head again, her forehead creased into a frown. 'No, no-one.' She moved her eyes from side to side. 'Well, except for Vic, maybe. I don't think he's very happy.'
'What do you mean?'
'Nothing. He's just not happy we're over, he's taking time coming to terms with it.'
'The little shit. Well, if he causes anymore trouble round here, I'm going to the police. I did warn you he was bad news.'
Rowan glared at her. 'Thanks, Mum…for your great understanding. You always know when to say the right thing.' She rolled over, pulling her duvet with her, and Clancy was left looking at her covered back.
It was when she was driving to work ten minutes later that she thought of the letters. And then, she thought back to the assault. Are they all connected? She wanted to think it was all coincidental but wondered if she was being naïve. No, I’m being ridiculous, they don’t know where I live. Do they? Could they? Patients had found her address before, though God only knows how. And there was something far less sinister about eggs than about the letters. She had to agree with Ro; it did seem to be something Vic would do. Still, the timing was a coincidence, and she was starting to feel distinctly edgy. She groped around the bottom of her bag for her fags, lit one and inhaled, tried to put all thoughts of it to the back of her mind.
47
Beth
The voices were quiet. She passed the next-door neighbour climbing into her car, dipped her head at her. No feeling of dread swept over her, no quickening of her pulse. She walked down the high street towards Sutton. Her flat was only a twenty-minute walk away, so she went straight past the bus stop and took the road past the ponds and St Philomena's school.
When she reached Lind Road, she turned left, rummaged for her keys and walked up her garden path. Weeds were just starting to appear, small buds of green breaking through the dirt, but they were not yet into growing season, so the garden was presentable. She put her key in the lock, pushed the door open, stepped inside. The air was musty, a slight layer of dust had settled over the floor tiles, but the atmosphere was calm. She picked up her mail from the mat, mainly boring business envelopes and take-away menus, carried it into the kitchen and placed it on the table. The kitchen looked normal, no signs that anything had changed, anything had been moved. She sighed, lifted the kettle, emptied and refilled it. No milk. And she really fancied a coffee. She opened the fridge, reached instead for a can of diet coke. Now she was back at home, she felt embarrassed at making such a fuss. What on earth did Clancy think of her? Hopefully, it was all in the past now, she would be able to move on. Despite the calm, she felt cold thinking about it. And she would miss Rowan and Clancy, the feeling of being part of something. Hopefully, they would let her stay in contact, remain friends. But she knew she couldn't hang onto them forever.
She put a wash on, did some cleaning, and repacked her bag. Collected more tablets – she was running low, needed to get a repeat prescription. After a couple of hours, she was ready and left the flat. Before she left, she had a good look round, carefully remembering where everything was, lights turned off. It never hurts to be careful.
When she got back to Clancy's, she rang the bell. Rowan opened the door. 'Hiya. How'd it go?'
‘Fine. It felt good to be home.' She tried to keep the tremble of hesitation out of her voice.
'It'll seem quiet when you go.'
'I can still come and visit, try and stop me.' Beth reached over and gave her a hug. They walked through to the kitchen and sat round the kitchen table.
'Did you hear about the eggs?' Rowan twiddled a curl a round her finger as she spoke. 'It looks like someone threw eggs at the house last night. Mainly around my window. It seems just like Vic's style. And Mum was fuming.'
They both stood up, went through the kitchen and back door to the patio. The smears and shells were still clearly visible. The pair walked back through the kitchen, took their seats in the lounge, but said little. Rowan carried on twisting her curl, round and round her finger, stared at the TV. Beth looked on concerned, but knew she could say no more on this subject. Rowan was adamant, and she didn't want to row.
48
The bathroom is cool, the walls are tiled white, the sink Victorian. Large brass taps stand erect at the corners. I stand in front of the sink, legs spread wide, my belt undone, and my trousers slipped down to hip height. I stare into the mirror, but instead of my reflection, I see you; your hair loose and soft, your smile innocent. I imagine the touch of your skin as I hold myself in my hand, my fist pumping regularly, initially slowly, then faster, quicker, urgent. My breaths speed up, my head explodes, and then, I cleanse myself, the evil spurting onto the porcelain, the power of lust again drained from my body. I run the taps, wash the evil away. It won't be long before I can spurt into you, and you will cleanse my sins.
49
Rowan
'Oh, my God, Amy, look at this.' She turned the laptop around.
Amy sat up, peered at it, put her hand to her mouth. 'I can't believe he's done that. Where did he get that picture?' It was of Rowan, naked. And thirty people had already liked it. He had updated his status at the same time.
My darling, sleeping.
The canteen was busy, students in various forms of dress and types of uniform queuing at the tills, holding trays piled high with plates of chips and burgers. Rowan was sitting with Amy by the window, had been enjoying the weak spring sunshine. The acoustics in the dining hall were terrible, the chattering teenagers producing a cacophony of noise. But everyone seemed to have heard her shriek, and as she looked up, she could see she was the centre of attention. She had checked Vic's profile, to see what he was up to and seen that he had updated his profile picture. It had taken her a few seconds to recognise the picture of a naked girl, lying on her side, her breasts folded beneath her, her arm thrown across her face, her black hair fanned out.
'You've got to do something about this, Ro. It can't carry on. Report him to Facebook, they'll have to take it down, it’s indecent.'
Rowan started stabbing at the keys, reported it, slammed down her laptop lid, snapped her head up in realisation, 'What am I going to do if Fariq sees it. He asked me, I told him I was a virgin. I didn't think he'd ever find out.'
'That's the least of your worries,' said Amy, but as Rowan started crying, she softened. 'He won't have seen it. They're not friends on Facebook, are they?'
Rowan sat down, put her head on her hands in relief. The other students had stopped watching now, lost interest, the spectacle was over. They were starting to gather bags and coats and filter out of the door. It was time for afternoon classes. Rowan was dazed, but stood up and followed Amy to her class anyway. She didn't need more trouble by missing her exam.