by Jane Lark
I clicked shutdown on my computer and packed up to go home.
Jack called my phone when I was in the lift. ‘Hey, where are you going? I thought you’d hang around until everyone else had gone.’
He was convinced I’d say yes, then. Well, decision definitely made. He wasn’t getting control. ‘You thought wrong.’ I ended the call.
My phone rang again when I reached the ground floor. It was him.
My tummy started playing dodgems. I did still fancy him. But I didn’t answer.
In the street, as I walked to the underground station, I had that weird feeling of being followed. I looked around, but no one stood out as though they were looking at me. I had the feeling all the time now, though, not just when I got off the tube.
I hurried, walking quicker. My phone vibrated in my pocket.
When I was in the underground system Jack couldn’t call, but when I got out the other end there were no more missed calls anyway. He’d given up. I half ran the rest of the way, as best I could in a tight skirt and heels.
There was a noise behind me, a cat jumping off a wall – or a scuffed footstep, someone walking behind me. I glanced back. That guy was there; the one I kept seeing.
When I turned into my street he was about fifty meters behind me.
Sometimes when I saw him he turned into my street after me, and sometimes he walked straight on up the main road. When I reached the house, I looked back. He walked around the corner into the street.
My hand trembled when I tapped the code into the keypad. I pushed the door open and hurried in. My heartbeat slowed after the door shut. I looked at my post box. The postman always pushed the post right in now. I slid the key in to open the box. The police had said they were sure someone had opened my post but the fingerprints didn’t match any on their records, so there was nothing they could do.
There were no letters. I shut the box up.
I ran upstairs to my room, shut the door and put the chain I’d acquired after the thing with the post, in its slot. I hadn’t told the police I felt like someone was following me. It was just paranoia; I knew I was being silly. The guy had never spoken to me, he probably just lived near me… and the sensation I had outside work couldn’t be anything to do with him. I’d never seen him there.
My heart thumped heavily as I walked over to put the kettle on and started thinking about eating tea. I switched the TV on and changed the channel to Channel 4 plus one to watch Couples Come Dine With Me; a bit of silly normality would sweep away the ghost of my imaginary stalker.
My phone vibrated – it was still in my coat pocket, but I could hear it. I fished it out.
‘Jack: Hey, why did you run? I’m downstairs. Let me in.’
I didn’t reply but pressed the button to free the lock downstairs. A part of me leapt. He hadn’t given up. A few moments later he knocked on the door to my room.
I took a breath then released the chain and opened the door. But I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that all you have to say?’
I threw him a tired, impatient smile, turned around and carried on making my coffee. ‘Do you want one?’ I glanced over my shoulder.
His brow furrowed. ‘Seriously, instant…’
‘Stop being so stuck up.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘Who ate up your good mood?’
‘I’m tired.’
‘So you don’t want to go away…’
‘I don’t know.’ I spooned coffee into a second mug, then sploshed the milk into both. The kettle boiled.
Jack didn’t speak.
I finished making the coffee, turned and held one out. ‘Here.’
‘Thanks. I think.’ His lip curled.
‘You’re too fussy.’
‘Am I allowed to sit down?’
‘If you want to.’
Chapter 15
I glanced around. Her place was tiny. I hadn’t been kidding last time when I’d joked about her needing a pay rise. That was why I’d booked a weekend away. We couldn’t go up to the cottage, someone was renting out the house and I didn’t want to take her to mine because of Sharon’s spies, and this place was way too small, so I was getting us out of London for a couple of days – if she’d come.
Every element of my body hoped she’d come: all my muscles were tight, holding on in anticipation of her decision. I’d been revved up for this all week.
I took a seat on the bed. The mattress dipped when she sat next to me. As the TV babbled on.
I sipped the coffee. It was what I expected, pretty awful. I looked at Ivy. ‘So tell me, what’s holding you back?’
‘I’d have thought you could guess. Last time we got together you then ignored me for weeks. I’m happy as things are now.’
‘You weren’t happy when you came away with me at Christmas, then? Because you seemed happy to me.’
‘But what happened after made me unhappy. I don’t want to be unhappy again. One weekend of fun isn’t worth the risk.’
The risk… That was what was wrong with me. I was all about risk, controversy and control. But I did worry for other people who were at risk. ‘So let’s do a little risk assessment. What is the highest risk?’ I put my disgusting coffee down on the floor, then twisted around and slipped one knee up on to her bed so I faced her.
Memories of the cramped night we’d spent in this bed wedged into my thoughts. We’d laughed a lot that night and the week of sex I’d had with her had been like no other week of my life.
Her eyes said she wasn’t thinking about that. She was thinking about the things I’d done after that, and they told her not to believe in me. I wasn’t even sure she was attracted to me any more. Maybe she no longer felt the pull like I did. Maybe I’d entirely smothered her lust torch by ignoring her—
‘The highest risk is that on Monday you’ll completely ignore me.’
‘Okay, so what’s the likelihood?’
‘High. Very high.’
‘Low. I’m not even asking you away for an isolated weekend; I want this to be something. Dating. Going out. A relationship. Whatever label you want to stick on it. We’ll have to play it cool because Sharon is a bitch on a mission, but that doesn’t stop us seeing each other outside work now I have everything sorted with Daisy and I promise I don’t expect sex this weekend.’
She sighed. ‘But you didn’t ask me about the impact, and the impact is still very high. You hurt me. A lot.’
That punched me in the middle. Her emotions were involved… Did it scare me? No. But I’d never had anything with someone who really cared. I’d kidded myself with Sharon, and maybe she’d kidded herself with me. But I didn’t think any of our emotions had been genuine or had any depth.
But I knew what love could feel like – my heart was all tangled up with Daisy. ‘I can’t change the impact, Ivy, but I swear, I don’t want you to be hurt. I just want to spend time with you… I don’t know. I feel like we had something special at Christmas.’
She stared me.
‘Next risk…’
She blinked. Her long, dark lashes dropping and lifting. Then her lavender eyes focused on me again, glistening. Did she have tears in her eyes?
‘That’s the only risk, and Christmas was special for me too, but it feels like a long time ago.’
‘I know. But there’s been no one since you, Ivy. Am I worth the risk, then? Will you give me another chance?’
She sighed. ‘Give me a minute to decide. I still don’t think the likelihood is low. More like medium to high. You have a reputation to take into account.’
‘Yes, which I established before I knew I had a daughter, and when I had a grasping, manipulative, gold-digging, party animal for a wife. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I don’t even smoke dope any more. I haven’t since I’ve been seeing Daisy on Sundays. The last time was New Year’s Eve—’
‘Do you see Daisy every week? Will you—’
‘No, I told you, the court agreement is every
other weekend, so you and I have alternate weekends, and every evening in the week, if you want them.’
She looked away from me and sipped from her mug of cheap coffee.
‘If we’re going to date and you expect me to spend any time up here, though, I’m buying you a cafetière and some proper fucking coffee.’
That cracked open her smile.
‘Come on, Ivy. Come away with me. I’ve booked us into a hotel. Give me a second chance.’ I leaned forward and gripped her thigh because I couldn’t take her hand – it was wrapped around the mug. ‘Please?’
‘Jack Rendell, saying please…’
‘I keep saying please to you, you just don’t listen. And, yes, it tells you how much I want you. Give me a chance. I’m crap at chasing women. I don’t have to do it. I never bother with women that aren’t into me. So again, more proof. You’re different. You’re special. I’m chasing you and you’re worth the chase and the pleading.’
She got up and tipped the last of her coffee into the sink, then left the mug in the sink and turned around, holding the side behind her. Her lips twisted sideways and her thin, plucked brows arched. ‘Okay, I think you’re worth the risk. But just to be safe, I’m agreeing on no sex.’
Excitement leapt in my chest like I was a kid; like Daisy spotting something pink and sparkly. I stood up. ‘God, I’m glad you said yes, otherwise I’d have wasted a pile of money on that hotel.’ I held her waist and leant to kiss her. She slapped my shoulder but she didn’t try avoid it. My lips pressed on to hers and hers pressed back with firm agreement.
I patted her bottom when I broke the kiss. ‘Get a bag packed. Then let’s go. And I’ll write you a contract in the services if you like, no sex.’
She threw me a smile, which, now she’d made her decision, looked a little excited too.
I sat on the bed as she pulled out a bag and then opened the one wardrobe she had in the room – then she looked at me. ‘Dressy or non-dressy.’
‘Both, we’ll eat dinner somewhere nice, maybe, but we’re going to the coast. We’re going to Lyme Regis. Expect to be walking along a pebble beach, so you’ll not be doing it in heels.’
‘But you don’t expect me to climb the cliff.’
I laughed at her. ‘No. No cliffs.’
When she’d packed the bag, I picked it up to carry it downstairs for her. She held the door for me to pass, then pulled it shut and pushed on it to check it was shut and when she past her post box she weirdly pushed on that too.
‘You, okay?’
‘Yeah.’ Her voice sounded bright and dismissive, but there was some undercurrent beneath it.
‘Ivy?’ A guy walked out of the ground-floor flat. A tall, lanky guy. ‘Are you going out?’
He gave me a hard look, as if to say, who are you?
What the fuck?
‘I’m going away for the weekend, Greg.’
‘I’ll look out for your flat, then.’
‘The flat will look out for itself,’ I answered. It wasn’t a cat.
Ivy gripped the sleeve of my leather jacket. ‘Thanks, Greg. See you next week.’ She pulled me out the door.
‘Who was that?’
Her eyebrows lifted in a ‘shut up’ gesture. ‘My landlord.’
‘The guy’s strange.’
‘He’s okay. I ignore him mostly.’
I unlocked the car and encouraged her to get in while I put her bag in the boot.
When I looked up, before I walked around to the driver’s side, I noticed her landlord looking out of the window. Weirdo.
As I got into the car when I looked ahead I saw a man standing on the corner at the end of the street, illuminated in the light from a lamp post. He was more worrying. He had his hood up and his hands buried in his pockets. It felt like he was watching us; certainly he was facing us. But I couldn’t see his face – his hood hung down over his eyes, so I couldn’t tell if he really was looking at us.
When I drove past him, as we left the street, he pulled his hood further forward and held it in place, as if he was hiding, but he turned, as though his gaze followed the car.
‘Do you know that guy?’ I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb.
Ivy looked back through the gap in the seats, but the man was probably totally obscured by his hood.
‘Who. Why?’ She sounded concerned.
‘I thought he was watching us, that’s all.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m sure he was looking at us getting in the car. It’s probably nothing.’ Or I’d led Sharon’s spies to her door.
Ivy looked ahead and swallowed. I saw the movement in her throat out of the corner of my eye. ‘You okay?’ She looked nervous.
She swallowed again and looked ahead. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘What’s nothing?’ I stopped at lights and touched her knee while three women crossed the road.
She glanced over, but I had to look back at the road when the lights changed.
‘Someone took the post out of my post box and read it and I keep feeling like someone’s following me.’
‘What? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You weren’t talking to me. Why would I tell you?’
Because… There was no reason. Shit. ‘I told you about Sharon’s investigator.’
‘But you haven’t been seeing me, so why would it be anything to do with Sharon. I feel like I have a stalker.’
‘Have you told the police?’
‘Yes, they confirmed someone opened the letters, but they had no match for the fingerprints, so what could they do? They told me to be careful and call if anything happened.’
‘Has anything else happened?’
‘No, but I have this creepy feeling all the time.’
‘Well, someone followed me home from work one night this week. I think that was Sharon’s private investigator and she knew someone had been to the cottage with me, so it could be that. But if it is, they wouldn’t hurt you. Just be sensible.’
‘I know. I don’t need you to tell me. I have been.’
But I didn’t feel comfortable about it. The man at the end of her road had been a big guy. I’d have to tell John. Maybe he could get a legal block on what Sharon was up to. It was going too far. But the call to John could wait until Monday. We were going to be miles away from London.
We walked into the hotel lobby at about ten-thirty. The place was all wood panelling, creaky floors and wonky ceilings. When I pressed the bell on the counter the hotel manager arrived to greet us with a smile. He had someone carry our bags up to the room while he booked us in and I signed the paperwork. Then he gave us the directions to find the room. We were in a room that looked down on the high street, facing a shop that had a massive tyrannosaurus rex skeleton head lit up in the window.
I walked over to the long sash window and leaned a shoulder on the wall next to it.
‘It’s like Jurassic Park…’ Ivy walked up behind me and her hand touched my arm. When we’d been away before her hands would have slipped around my middle and her head would have rested against the back of my shoulder. I’d missed her touches.
I turned to face her, longing to kiss her thoroughly and get her clothes off. But we’d agreed no sex. I needed to be patient.
‘They call it the Jurassic Coast – there’s fossils in them there cliffs.’
She laughed at the accent I put on, but definitely at me, not with me.
Even though it was late, I decided to go out. ‘Come on, change your shoes and let’s go for a walk along the front and see what it’s like. It’s ages since I’ve been to the seaside.’
She looked at her watch, then lifted her eyebrows.
‘It’ll be more fun this late. There’ll be hardly anyone around.’
Chapter 16
I held Jack’s hand tightly as we walked along the pebbles in the darkness. The stones shifted and rolled awkwardly under my feet.
The sea roared beside us each time a wave washed up on to the pebbles and dragged them arou
nd, then rolled back out. Moonlight glistened on the sea further out, catching the sway of the waves and then the white foam when the waves broke on to the beach.
I hadn’t been to the seaside for years. I’d forgotten the thrilling feeling when you heard the waves, and how the air tasted and felt different. Refreshing. ‘I love this.’
At the edge of the beach on our right there was a long row of old houses looking out to sea, with a road in front of them. They looked like dolls’ houses in the electric lamps, which were decorated with ammonite shapes. It was all a little magical. ‘I wasn’t even sure this morning I was going to come away with you. I left work because I’d made up my mind I wouldn’t.’ I looked sideways at him. ‘I’m glad I’m here. This is such a beautiful place. I’d forgotten how great the seaside is. You feel in awe, don’t you? Like we did in the Lake District.’
‘Yes.’ His hand gave mine a squeeze. ‘I know what you mean, and that’s why Christmas was so good. Because we feel the same. I was being serious when I said I want to keep seeing you. You get life like I do.’
That wasn’t true. ‘Not like you do.’
‘Okay there are differences, but I told you, I’m changing. I’m more responsible.’ He gave me a smile. ‘Mum would say, at last.’
Maybe he was changing. He’d spent most of the journey here talking about his daughter. He’d turned his spare room into her room, and it was now a pink flower garden, apparently. He’d said he didn’t smoke dope any more too.
I didn’t want him to change completely, though. I liked the man who arrived with a suitcase already packed and dragged me away to places that were beautiful. My heart thumped just as much as it had when we’d gone away at Christmas. I liked him being heart-pumping, and breathtaking; they were the things that had persuaded me to give him a second chance – and there was a king-size four-poster bed in our room at the hotel. I kept seeing it and wondering if I was going to let anything happen in it.
He turned me around and hauled me into a hug, then kissed me hard, his palm bracing the back of my head.
It felt like coming home, like a part of me had lain dormant and dead for all the weeks we hadn’t been speaking, and now it came to life again. I’d been waiting for him to kiss me properly.