by Sue Watson
‘I might go and see that shrink again,’ Jas says, playing with the stem of her glass.
‘Yes, that might help.’ I nod, feeling doubtful. In our line of work, we have access to therapy, but it didn’t really work for me. ‘My problem with therapy,’ I say, ‘is I feel guilty about how my guilt is affecting the therapist. How’s that for irony?’
‘Silly cow.’ She laughs. ‘I told you, anyway, you don’t need a therapist. You can just talk to me.’
‘Yeah, thanks, Jas,’ I say, but it seems that my friend’s support comes with conditions. I’m still smarting slightly from her earlier comment about having to be the one who picks up the pieces when my love life goes pear-shaped. ‘Jas – just so we’re clear – you really don’t have to take on responsibility for me. I’m making my own choices and, whatever happens, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,’ I say gently.
‘I know you are, but it took you a while to come round after the Tom stuff – him blaming you for everything bad in his life, the phone calls and other weird shit. And because of that you weren’t present for a while, I just don’t want to lose my best friend. Again.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
It was tough after Tom, and he didn’t make it easy, but I’ve moved on now, and don’t want to think about all that.
‘I just want you to know that I’ll be there for you whatever. If he hurts you, or if he’s married or—’
‘Jas, enough,’ I say, and raise my eyebrows in a gentle warning gesture.
‘Sorry, I just think—’ She can see by my facial expression I don’t want to hear this again, and she thinks better of it.
‘Perhaps you should go on Meet Your Match?’ I suggest, knowing that if she had a new relationship, it might be a distraction and she might worry less about mine.
‘No way, I need a break from men,’ she huffs. ‘I’m certainly not chasing them online. I’m perfectly happy on my own.’ She smiles, but her eyes say something different.
Chapter Five
The following day is a nightmare of red tape and drama, interspersed with Jas sniping, Sameera shushing, and a mess of crumbs all over the desks from Gemma’s leftover lemon cake, which Harry brought in for us to comfort eat. The way the day’s panning out I reckon we could do with even more sweet carbs – we’ve eaten everything in sight.
‘I think Chloe Thomson’s having issues with her mum’s new boyfriend and Jack Morris has nowhere to sleep tonight – and that’s just for starters,’ I say to Jas when she asks if I’m busy.
‘Okay, sounds like my day.’ She sighs. ‘I’m tired and was hoping I could go early tonight, but I can see that’s not going to happen.’
‘Yeah, God only knows when I’m going to leave the office,’ I grumble. ‘I’d better call Alex to say I’m going to be late.’
‘Oh yeah, he’s cooking for you tonight, isn’t he? Lucky you!’ she says, wandering back to her office. She said this kindly, with no apparent subtext and I appreciate that she’s trying to be positive for me.
I pick up the phone to call Alex. ‘I know you’re cooking and everything but I’m going to be working late tonight,’ I explain when he answers.
‘That’s okay. You’re allowed to be late,’ he teases. ‘After all, I was late last time.’
I’m grateful for this, he’s so laid-back and isn’t making a big deal of it. ‘Things are crazy here. We can postpone if you like.’
‘No, no! I’ve been slaving over this hot oven for hours,’ he jokes.
‘Oh, aren’t you at work?’
‘Yes, well… I was. I left early, abandoned everything so I could make your dinner.’
I laugh. ‘In that case, I’ll get there as soon as I can. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, absolutely. Just promise me that whatever time you finish, you’ll still come over.’
It’s so lovely to feel wanted, especially after Tom, who never made me feel that way.
‘I will… and, Alex…’
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks for being so understanding.’
‘It’s okay, it’s the same for me when I’m in court or I’ve got a big case on. I guess we’d both better get used to it,’ he says good-naturedly.
I’m delighted at the suggestion that he sees this as more than three dates – ‘we’d better get used to it’ is music to my ears. I flush slightly and giggle stupidly.
As I put down the phone, Jas catches my eye from the open door of her office. ‘You okay?’ she mouths.
‘Yeah,’ I mouth back. I smile, and get back to Chloe’s problematic relationship with her mother’s boyfriend and other unfolding dramas.
‘Hey Hannah.’ Margaret appears in the doorway of our office. She’s come up from reception and she’s holding the most beautiful bunch of cream roses.
‘These are for you, lovely,’ she’s saying as she walks towards me. I’m really hoping Jas is watching, because the most stunning bouquet is coming my way, and I just know they’re from Alex. He knows I’m having a hell of a day, I’m going to be working late, won’t get to his until even later – and this is Alex’s way of saying it’s okay. I just want Jas to see how different he is from Tom, and that she doesn’t need to worry about me this time.
‘For me?’ I feign surprise, I don’t want to appear too smug, but I can’t help but smile as I take the huge bunch of what looks like fifty long-stemmed roses from Margaret’s arms. He must have put the phone down from me and ordered these straight away to get here so soon.
‘Looks like you’ve hit the jackpot with this one.’ Margaret smiles.
‘I think I have Margaret.’ I smile, knowing I’m flushed and everyone’s looking at me.
‘Ooh, they must have cost a fortune!’ Sameera says as she wanders over to check them out.
I push my face into the blooms, the smell is exquisite, and I lay them down on the desk while Sameera helps me tear off the gift card. I know who they’re from, but I want to read what he says. I’m going to keep this gift card forever, so I can look at it when we’re an old married couple, and remember how it was in the very beginning.
‘Raj never sends me flowers.’ Sameera sighs, caressing the blooms now lying on my desk.
‘I don’t think Bill’s ever sent me flowers, and we’ve been married thirty years,’ Margaret says. ‘Don’t let this one go, love,’ she adds before leaving.
Sameera’s still gazing at the blooms, and Harry’s smiling at us.
‘You’d think you two had never seen a bunch of flowers,’ he says, shaking his head and going back to his computer screen.
‘Oh, these aren’t just “a bunch of flowers” though! Hannah, they’re breath-taking… I want Raj to send me some too!’ she jokes.
I smile and open the small envelope, there’s a little card with LOVE written on the front. I look up at Sameera, and we both smile, sharing this little moment. We’re bonding because we’re both in love and we know what this feels like.
‘It might be a proposal!’ she gasps.
‘Don’t be daft, we’ve only just met,’ I reply.
In truth, I wish I could take the note, run into the bathroom and read it in private – after all it is private – but Sameera’s looking at me, waiting to see what it says, and it would seem mean to leave with it now. So I open the card and glimpse the message. It’s printed, because presumably he ordered the flowers. I settle down to read it. It’s just a few sentences, but I want to savour each word. I start to read it quietly.
‘I had to send you these delicate, scented blooms because they remind me of you my darling…’
I hear Sameera giggle and clap her hands together excitedly. ‘This one is SO a keeper!’
I roll my eyes and continue, but as I read, the words aren’t coming out right. It doesn’t sound like Alex – I know this even this early into our relationship – and I can’t make sense of it at first. I stop reading out loud, and wordlessly hand it to Sameera.
They remind me of you because you are the thorn among th
ese roses, and I know what you’re up to, you treacherous bitch. You can’t ever leave me. I am watching, always watching, you lying whore – every breath you take. Until even that stops.
Always with you. X
‘Why? Why would he say something like that?’ Sameera’s saying, almost tearful as I sit behind my pile of cream roses – a perverse bridal joke.
‘It isn’t Alex.’ I sigh. ‘This has to be Tom.’
Sameera puts her hand to her mouth, I’ll never forget the look of horror and pity on her face. In the silence, Harry gets up from his seat and Jas comes out of her office.
‘You okay, love?’ she’s asking.
‘Tom,’ I say, my eyes welling up. ‘I thought he’d stopped with the weird shit, but clearly he hasn’t.’
Jas picks up the card from the ground where I threw it as I realised what it was. She nods slowly. ‘Yeah, probably Tom… but then again?’
‘Definitely Tom,’ I say angrily, shutting her down and picking up my phone.
‘Are you calling the police?’ Jas asks.
I shake my head. ‘I’m calling bloody Tom, and threatening him with the police,’ I say, furious that he’s still trying to ruin my life.
Why can’t he just move on? He’s become so bitter and resentful since we parted – and the only reason I’m not directly calling the police is because I can’t actually prove it’s him. And in truth because I still feel guilty about throwing him out and I don’t want to push him further down. Having been a foster child, I know how it is to be ejected from your home without understanding why, and I still find it hard to reconcile myself to the fact I did it to someone else, but enough is enough. I wait and wait for him to pick up so I can yell down the phone as Jas and Sameera stand by my desk looking a little shell-shocked. But he doesn’t pick up so I leave a very angry message threatening him with the police.
‘Hell, he really does need to move on,’ Jas says.
‘I know. For God’s sake, he wasn’t that bothered when we were together, where’s all the passion and inventiveness come from now?’
‘Perhaps if he’d shown you some of that then you’d still be with him?’ Sameera offers.
‘Hardly, he’s turned out to be a bloody psycho since she dumped him… if it is him,’ Jas says.
Harry goes back to his desk, opening a tube of Smarties and swallowing most of them in one go. ‘You don’t half pick ’em, Hannah,’ he says.
‘I reckon that’s an understatement.’ I sigh, trying to work out why Tom would do something like this.
Looking back, he took our break-up far worse than I expected him to, and seemed genuinely upset and reluctant to leave the flat. Then a couple of days after he left, I started receiving phone calls in the middle of the night from an anonymous caller. Someone was breathing heavily – it was really creepy and made me feel very uncomfortable, but I knew it was him. Who else could it be? I didn’t want to pour oil on troubled waters though and, when I told Jas and the others, we all came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do was to ignore the calls.
‘If you phone him up to tell him to stop, then you’re giving him the attention he craves,’ Jas had said, ‘so he’ll just keep on doing it.’
So after that I’d just turn off my phone when I went to bed. But then, one night, at about 3 a.m., I was woken up by this shuffling, snuffling noise outside. It was really weird; it sounded like someone sniffing at the front door. I sat up in bed, the hair ends of my scalp prickling, until whatever, or whoever, it was left. After about twenty minutes, it seemed to stop, but by then I was in tears, petrified. I thought about calling the police, but would they take me seriously if I called them to say I’d heard sniffing around my front door? After all, it might have been just that. One of my neighbours has a dog, it could have been him. But I’ve never heard it before or since.
The heavy-breathing calls were scary enough, but this was just plain creepy, so I called Tom the next day. Of course he denied it. He also ranted down the phone that he was glad he’d left and I was mad, then he’d told me I was obviously too scared to live on my own and he hoped I was sorry.
As Jas said when I told her, ‘That sounds like a confession to me, babe.’ Anyway, she suggested I go and stay with her until he’d calmed down. I don’t think Tom would have ever done anything crazy, but Jas was right in warning, ‘People who get hurt get dangerous.’
‘Come and live in my house,’ she’d said. ‘No one would dare call me up late and ruin my beauty sleep – and as for someone sniffing at my door, well no one’s done that since 2008!’
That had made me laugh. That’s one of the best things about Jas – she can always make me laugh.
So I moved out of my flat and into Jas’s for a few weeks. She risked her own safety to have me at her place, and I’ll never forget that. And even though she isn’t exactly excited about my new relationship, I mustn’t forget how good she’s been in the past.
But it didn’t solve the problem with Tom. He clearly couldn’t find me at the flat and I’d blocked him on my phone, so he started calling the office, trying to get Margaret to put him through. But she’d been forewarned, so politely fobbed him off. Soon, he started calling Harry, and even Sameera, to ask them if I was okay and if they thought I might take him back. The last time that happened was months ago, and I really thought he had moved on, but it looks like he’s still bitter.
Jas takes the roses and throws them in the bin, but I keep the note, I might need it if things continue. I’m so upset, this is just so weird, but since Tom and I broke up I’ve seen a different side to him. Just goes to show, people can surprise you – even people you think you know.
Chapter Six
It’s 7.30 by the time I finally call it a day, and what a day, but even so, I feel guilty, because Jas is still here, and Harry’s working late too. He’s just taken a call from Gemma, who seems to be giving him a hard time.
‘I won’t be too long. I know, I know,’ he’s saying in a placatory tone.
I give Harry a sympathetic look as I stand up to leave, and he nods back and rolls his eyes.
‘Will you be here much longer?’ I ask after he puts down the phone.
He just shrugs. ‘I don’t know. It just seems to have gone mad, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah, Jas’s here late too.’ I nod in the direction of her office.
‘She’s not working though,’ he says.
I’m surprised. ‘Oh, so why is she still here?’
‘Well, when I went in about ten minutes ago, she was trawling through a load of guys’ photos on her phone. I reckon she’s looking for a hot date.’
‘She told me she’d had it with men.’
He laughs. ‘She’s always saying that.’
I grab my bag to leave and, walking past her office, I wave.
‘Hey, Hannah, let me walk you to your car,’ she says.
‘I’m not in my car, I’m going to Alex’s. He only lives about fifteen minutes from here, I think. And I don’t want to drive. I might want a drink,’ I add.
‘Yeah, after what happened today I reckon you’ll need one.’ She sighs. ‘Do you want a lift to Alex’s?’
‘No, I’m fine, I need to call in at the shop on the way.’
‘I’m just worried in case that tosser Tom’s hanging around.’
‘No, he’s a coward, Jas, he’ll be long gone, probably rubbing his hands together after ruining my day. But I won’t let him ruin my night. Although when I get hold of the creep…’
‘That’s my girl,’ she says, waving as I head for the door.
I’m done with Tom, and work and worry now. My day was ruined, but I won’t let him spoil my evening – the rest of tonight is about me and Alex.
I step out into the chilly autumn evening. It’s the start of November already and it feels like we arrive at work in the dark and leave in the dark – and tonight it’s bloody dark. And cold. I wrap my parka around me, pulling up my hood as it starts to spit with rain. I was hoping to go hom
e, have a shower and get changed before I went to Alex’s, but I don’t have time. Nor did I have the foresight to bring any make-up or extra clothes with me to work in case I had to stay late. I can’t believe I’m going to meet Alex, for only the third time, wearing my work clothes and with the remains of the day on my face. So I call him to check it’s still okay to come over as it’ll be close to 8 p.m. by the time I get to his. Also, he needs to be warned that the glamorous woman he went out with the other night won’t be turning up this evening.
‘Hey, Alex. It’s late – I’ve only just finished, are you still sure about tonight?’
‘Of course. Are you heading over now?’
‘Yes, if that’s okay?’ My old insecurities kick in. Is he just being polite, surely not?
‘It’s wonderful,’ he says, in a husky, urgent voice that warms me.
‘I just didn’t want to put you to any—’
‘I made your favourite, pistachio ice cream.’
I’m so touched by this. ‘Well, how can I resist? You had me at ice cream,’ I say and he laughs. ‘But, Alex, I’m warning you, I look like a dog and I need a shower.’
‘Now you’re just trying to get me all excited,’ he jokes.
‘Mmm, if you’re sure you want to enjoy a third date with an un-showered woman falling asleep at the table in her work clothes…?’
‘Sounds perfect, just how I like my third dates.’
‘Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m ten minutes away,’ I say, giggling as I end the call and walk into the shop.
After scanning the limited stock, I find a decent Merlot, it’s twenty pounds, but if Alex is providing dinner, the least I can do is bring the wine. While queuing to pay, I spot a container of Smarties shaped like Father Christmas and pick it up for Harry to thank him for all the croissants and cakes he brings us.