by Jessie Jones
‘Yeah, I’ve missed him,’ she said, smearing the old polish from her nails with a cotton bud. ‘I think the break’s probably done him some good to be honest. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. We’ve talked just about every day and he sounds a lot happier.’
‘What about you? Are you OK?’
‘Me? God, yes!’ She laughed and flicked her hair back. ‘I’ve been a single girl again. Had a whale of a time. Lunch with the girls, spa days, all that.’
Her jollity seemed a bit forced, but I didn’t want to push things. And besides, it was Dad I’d come to see.
‘When’s he going to be home?’ I asked.
‘Any minute. He called ages ago to say he’d landed.’
‘Before he went to Dubai I was really worried about him … about you two,’ I said, deciding after all to push things.
‘Yeah, well … me too,’ she said. ‘He had a bit of a crisis, didn’t he? He doesn’t talk about stuff, bottles it up. He hits the casino just to forget, really. And the longer he goes without talking, the more over the top he gets. It’s all to do with your mum, really. She was the big love of his life, you know.’
Oh, I knew all right. But talking to Suzie about Mum didn’t feel right. Not because my stepmother had no business bringing her up, but because, well, it wasn’t fair on Suzie, was it? What had she done to deserve all that baggage?
‘Don’t get me wrong, Dayna, I know he loves me,’ she said, seeming to read my mind. ‘I don’t feel like I’m competing or anything silly like that. I lost my mum when I was twenty-six, so I know what you’ve both been through. You think you’ll get over it in time, but those feelings never leave you, do they?’
‘Those feelings didn’t stop him putting himself about for all those years, did they?’ I said, adding quickly, ‘until you came along, of course.’
She gave me a smile. ‘I think it was feelings for your mum that made him put himself about,’ she said.
‘How do you work that out?’
‘It’s all to do with running away, not facing up to things … Look, I’m no psychologist. I leave all that stuff to my sister. But I’ve really tried to get him to open up, to really talk about what’s in there.’
I thought about all the times I’d wanted to talk to Dad but hadn’t. Because I didn’t want to upset him or, more truthfully, upset myself. If I didn’t talk about it, I’d be OK, right?
‘Honestly, I think I’m the first person Michael’s ever talked to about his feelings,’ she went on. ‘A lot of it’s still very raw. And if I’ve forced it out of him, I can hardly complain if he takes it out on me a bit, can I?’
‘Er, yes, you can,’ I said. It might have been my dad we were talking about, but he had no right to treat her like a doormat. ‘Don’t let him treat you badly, Suzie.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.’
I didn’t doubt it. I watched her unscrew a brand-new pot of varnish and apply it to her freshly cleaned nails. It was a cheery scarlet, a welcome-home-Michael colour.
‘Anyway, enough about me and your dad,’ she said after a moment. ‘How are things with you and …?’
‘Archie? We haven’t seen each other for a couple of weeks,’ I told her. ‘He’s been really busy with work. He says the whole world’s getting loft conversions and they all need skips.’ I’d been so used to saying this to people lately it was like switching onto automatic pilot.
‘Well, you should get him to come round soon now your dad’s going to be home. I was talking to Wayne about him the other day. You remember he brought him to the wedding? I thought he might know something.’
‘Know something about what?’ I spluttered, wondering what she was getting at.
‘Oh, that came out all wrong, didn’t it? Sorry, I just meant that I was curious. More like nosey. Sorry, Dayna, it’s none of my business.’
‘That’s OK,’ I said, calming down. ‘So, what did Wayne have to say?’
‘Oh, nothing interesting. Just that he seems like a nice bloke, but he doesn’t really know him that well. He’s the friend of a friend of a –’
We heard the key in the lock and Suzie leapt from her seat, one hand unpainted and the other flapping madly as she tried to dry the polish. She didn’t care, though, as she ran into the hall to greet her husband.
Dad seemed like a new man. Literally, actually. He was lean, his hair was sun-bleached and he was as tanned as an Arab. He’d been back for an hour. The time had been spent opening presents. He seemed to have blown all his tax-free dollars on bling for the two women in his life and we were positively sparkling.
‘You look fantastic,’ I told him as Suzie disappeared into the kitchen. I hadn’t seen him looking so happy and healthy in ages.
‘It was great over there,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen luxury like it. I’ve got to take the two of you over for a holiday. It’s good to be home, though. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s three thousand miles away, do you?’
‘Well, I’ve missed you too, Dad.’
He went quiet for a minute, then he said, ‘Sorry about the way I behaved before I went,’ he muttered. ‘Just nerves, I think. You know, being a newlywed again after all these years. Threw me a bit.’ He looked up then and flashed me a smile. God, he looked handsome. The tan really suited him. ‘You’ll know what I mean one day, Dayna, when you walk up that aisle.’
‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ I told him miserably. ‘The only aisle I’ll be walking up is the one marked G to M at the DSS.’
‘Don’t talk soft. This Archie bloke will work out. And if he doesn’t, you’ll find someone else and you’ll get yourself a great job too. Trust me, everything’s going to work out. For all of us.’
His eyes were sparkling and I could feel the heat from his smile and I really believed him. Especially when he shuffled along the sofa and gave me the biggest hug I’d had since I’d been a little girl.
‘Dad, there’s something I want to say.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Just that I really, really –’
‘Here you go, Michael. Steak and chips like you’ve never seen,’ Suzie announced, emerging from the kitchen with an overloaded tray. ‘Bet they didn’t give you this in Dubai.’
And the moment to tell my dad I loved him had passed. Again.
A few months later, on 21 February to be precise, came the turning point I’d been waiting for in my relationship with Archie. I remember the date exactly, because it was my birthday. My twenty-first birthday, no less.
I’d been on the receiving end of lovely presents all day. A massive bouquet from Kirsty and Ruby. My dad and Suzie had popped round with champagne and a gorgeous silver bracelet that I’m sure my dad had nothing at all to do with picking out. There were even more flowers from Hannah and Emily turned up with a hamper full of expensive chocolates, scented candles and gorgeous bubble baths. It really was everything a girl’s twenty-first should be.
The evening was going to be devoted to Archie. He’d taken me out for dinner to a little Italian restaurant in Islington. Nothing particularly amazing about it – apart from the fact that it made a nice change from the usual fish and chips/sausages and chips/pie and chips he usually went for. Right at the end of the meal, Archie cleared his throat and went a tad awkward.
‘Er, Dayna, I’ve been thinking,’ he started.
Oh God. I felt myself go cold. He’s not going to finish with me, is he? He can’t! Not on my birthday, I panicked inwardly.
‘I want to ask you something. We’ve been going out a while now, yes?’
‘Ye-es,’ I replied slowly, bracing myself for the worst-case scenario.
‘Right, so, well, do you want to get engaged?’
Did I want to get engaged?
Did babies cry? Did bears shit in the woods? Did Jennifer Lopez’s love really not cost a thing? I wanted to jump up and punch the air. All my fears and paranoia had evaporated in an instant. He loves me! I love him! I’m goin
g to be a fiancée! I wanted to scream.
‘Er, Dayna? Dayna? What are you thinking? Because if you think it’s a crap idea …’
That was when I realised that he was waiting for me to answer. ‘I’d love to get engaged,’ I gushed. He squeezed my hand and smiled, relief quickly spreading across his face.
I waited for him to put his hand into his pocket and pull out a little black box, one that he’d spent hours agonising over. Not the box, of course, but the Big Mac sized diamond inside it. Not that I was one of those shallow, bling-obsessed girls who fantasised about showing off the sparkling slab on her ring finger, just that I really wanted a slab of bling. Just to mark the special-ness of the occasion sort of thing.
But he didn’t move.
‘Brilliant,’ he said instead. ‘You’re one in a million, Dayna. Me and you? We’re gonna conquer the world.’
We kissed then, and I pushed away the tiny, minuscule stab of disappointment about the lack of any diamonds on my fingers. There was plenty of time to go ring shopping, anyway. And besides, every girl knows that unless she wants to schlep back to the shop to exchange it the next day, it’s always best to go with a bloke when he’s buying you a present.
As he drove me home all I wanted to do was spend the night with him. But we couldn’t. He had to be up at the crack of dawn for the urgent delivery of a new truck and I had to get myself ready for an interview. Yes, an interview. For a job.
‘I’m sorry we can’t spend tonight together,’ he told me. ‘But I want us to meet tomorrow. We’re going shopping for a ring. Wouldn’t want to make a mess of it by going on my own, would I?’
OhmyGod, did men come any more perfect? He was The One, no doubt about it.
When we reached the end of my road, I said, ‘You can drop me off here if you like.’
‘Don’t be silly. I’ll drop you at your door.’
‘No, it’s OK, really,’ I protested. ‘The flat’s only fifty yards up the street and there’s never anywhere to park.’
‘Too many bloody skips,’ he grinned, pulling up on the corner.
After a very lingering kiss I got out of the car and made my way home. But not without several backward glances at Archie, who, ever the gentleman, was going nowhere until he’d watched me safely reach my front door. I was almost there when my mobile rang. I took it from my bag, checked the display and pressed answer.
‘Missing me already, Archie?’ I said.
‘Uh-huh,’ he replied. ‘Tonight should not be ending now, you know.’
‘I know, but tomorrow isn’t far away.’
‘Can’t wait, babe.’
That’s when it happened. A noise behind me, an arm grabbing me, wrapping tightly round my chest, something cold pressing into my throat. Terror kicked in immediately and I tried to pull myself free, but the arm just gripped me tighter.
‘Give me the fucking phone, bitch, or I’ll slit your fucking throat,’ a voice hissed into my ear. I could feel his hot, damp breath on my cheek, his chest pressing into my back as he held me against him. He had my right arm pinned to my side, but my left was free, still holding the mobile to my ear. I held it out, and said, ‘Take it, please. Just leave me alone.’
I’d always been a scaredy-cat, but, honestly, I hadn’t known what fear was until that moment. I was blinded by it, frozen, barely breathing. Where had he come from? What was going to happen to me?
Then I heard another voice. ‘Dayna …? Dayna! What the fuck’s going on?’ It was Archie, still on the line. The mugger released his grip on my chest then, but he didn’t take the knife from my throat. I remained frozen as he edged around me until he was facing me. I looked at him for the first time. A black guy, not much taller than me. How old was he? I didn’t get a chance to figure it out because as he reached with his free hand to grab my phone, he lurched sideways, stumbling, falling over his own feet and not stopping until he slammed into a lamppost.
It took me a second to realise that the cavalry had arrived. Archie had sprinted from the car and jumped my attacker. I stood and watched, still petrified, as the two of them now faced each other. At six foot, Archie was bigger, but the mugger was the one holding the knife, which he was now pointing at Archie.
‘Let him go, Archie,’ I quavered. ‘He’s got a knife,’ which I realise now was kind of stating the obvious.
‘Stay there, Dayna,’ Archie said without turning to look at me. ‘Just stay there.’
‘Back off, man,’ the mugger said, his voice cracking. ‘Fucking back off or you’re getting this.’
He waggled the knife at Archie, but my boyfriend wasn’t going anywhere. ‘Go on, then, big man,’ he snarled, ‘just fucking try me.’
‘Please, Archie, let him go,’ I begged. I just wanted it to end. I wanted the mugger to turn, run off into the night and leave me alone with my saviour.
But of course that didn’t happen, did it? No, Archie took half a step towards the little black guy, who immediately lunged at him with the knife. I flung my hands to my eyes and screamed, trying to drown out the sounds of the scuffle.
When I finally dared to look I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’d expected to see Archie lying on the pavement, bleeding, but the mugger was the one on the floor. Archie was standing over him, kicking him. In the stomach, the legs, the head. His foot was just flying forward, connecting with whatever bit of mugger happened to be in its way. I looked on, shocked, horrified and, I’m slightly ashamed to admit now, elated. Because, much as I was sickened by any kind of violence apart from the pretend kind at the cinema, at that moment I was delighted that it was Archie who had the upper hand.
Eventually he stopped. Then I noticed something glinting in his hand. The knife. He looked down at it too, then slipped it into his jacket pocket. Behind him the mugger staggered to his feet and leant against the lamppost. His face was swollen and bloody. He stayed there for a moment, recovering his breath. Then he turned and stumbled up the street. Archie didn’t follow him. We just watched him until he disappeared around the corner.
Archie came to me then and I collapsed into him, sobbing. The strength drained from my legs and the only thing that kept me on my feet was Archie’s firm embrace.
‘Are you OK, angel?’ he asked softly. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I croaked between sobs.
‘C’mon, then, let’s get you inside.’
He put his arm around my waist and helped me towards my front door. As we slowly climbed the steps, I stopped.
‘The police,’ I gasped. ‘We’ve got to call them.’
‘No need.’
As I looked at him blankly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black wallet. He flipped it open and held it up. I looked at the student bus pass that was sitting behind the plastic window and then at the photo in the corner – the face of my attacker.
‘Here you go, angel,’ Archie said, handing me a steaming mug. ‘I put two sugars in. You need it, you’re in shock.’ The fearless man of steel who’d saved my life – and who was now my fiancé – had made me tea. He sat down on the sofa and put his arm around me. ‘I’m not leaving you alone tonight, not after what’s happened,’ he went on. ‘I’ll call Greg. He can pick up that truck for me. I’ll stay here.’
I melted into him. I never wanted him to leave my side again. While Archie was with me, nothing could harm me. I was feeling so many things at that moment. Sick, tearful and scared every time I thought about the attack, the knife at my throat. But I was also feeling strangely wonderful because I was safe now.
‘You were incredible, you know,’ I told him. ‘We should call the police now. An animal like that shouldn’t be on the streets.’
‘Yeah, and what are the cops going to do?’ Archie sneered angrily.
‘They’ll arrest him and –’
‘And he’ll go before some soppy liberal judge who’ll give him a couple of hours’ community service or stick him in therapy because he’s got “emotional issues”. I’m
telling you, the system’s fucked. Where’s the justice for the victims? That sick little degenerate could have killed you, Dayna.’
Yes, that sick little degenerate could have killed me. The thought made me burst out crying again. ‘Jesus, he would have killed me if you hadn’t been there. The evil, evil bastard!’ I screamed, angry now. ‘What’s wrong with this bloody country, Archie? Why can’t we sort out people like that?’
‘We could if the government had any guts. Look, don’t worry. That piece of shit isn’t going to get away with this.’
‘What, you’re calling the police?’ Was he changing his mind?
‘Waste of time. No, I’ll sort him out. I know where he lives, don’t I?’
‘What are you going to do?’ I asked, feeling fear take the place of anger and reminding myself that he’d already kicked the guy half to death.
‘“An eye for an eye”, the Bible says. Nothing stupid about that. Me and some like-minded guys will sort it out. Look, I’d better phone Greg before he goes to bed, get him to organise this truck.’
He got his mobile from his jacket and as I watched him make his call I thought about what he’d just said. Maybe he was right. Maybe the police and the government weren’t doing anything to make the streets safe. I’d never given it any thought before. But clearly the streets weren’t safe – I’d seen it first hand. And if the politicians weren’t going to do anything, maybe we had every right to take things into our own hands.
He put the phone back in his pocket and looked at me. ‘I’ve had an idea,’ he said. ‘I want you to come to mine.’
‘Tonight? What about my interview?’
‘No, sweetheart, to live. I want you to move in properly. Why wait? After all, we’re engaged now.’ He smiled at me and I thought my heart would burst. Weak and shaken though I still was, I nearly dragged my suitcase from the wardrobe and started packing there and then.