by Alex Lake
Kate was interrupted by the sound of a glass breaking. It came from the bar. The pub fell silent for a moment, then there were some ironic cheers and a smattering of applause. Kate looked up to see who was the unfortunate person at the centre of attention.
‘No way,’ she said. ‘I don’t fucking believe this.’
11
‘What is it?’ Mike said. ‘What’s wrong?’
Kate turned to face him. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Well, nothing for you to worry about. I’ll sort this out. Stay here.’
She started to get to her feet. Mike put his hand on hers to slow her down.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked. ‘Can I help?’
‘No,’ Kate said. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘At least tell me what it is.’
‘Not what,’ Kate said. ‘Who. My ex-boyfriend showed up and smashed his glass on the floor.’
When she got to the bar, Phil was bending down, picking up shards of broken pint-glass while a barman with a dustpan and broom tried to persuade him not to.
‘It’s OK,’ the barman said. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘No,’ Phil mumbled. ‘It’s fine. I’m sorry.’
‘Seriously, mate, I’d prefer that you let me do it. I don’t want you to cut yourself. It’ll be a health and safety nightmare if you do.’
Kate reached down and grabbed Phil by the arm.
‘Stand up,’ she said. ‘Get to your feet.’
Phil staggered into a standing position and stared at her, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
‘Kate?’ he said. ‘What are you doing here?’
Kate had to fight to stop herself screaming. She could not remember when she had last been this angry. First, he showed up at the pub where she was having a date with her new boyfriend – well, with someone who may, one day, be her new boyfriend, but not if he thought he’d have some crazy ex to deal with – and then he had the gall to pretend he didn’t know she’d be there.
‘Outside,’ she said. ‘Now.’
‘Let me get my drink,’ he said, then looked down at the puddle on the carpet. ‘Oh. I’ll get another.’
‘Are you drunk, Phil?’
‘No,’ he muttered. ‘Not very. A bit.’
She steered him towards the front door. ‘You’re leaving.’
‘I don’t want to! You can’t make me!’
‘Don’t make this worse than it already is,’ Kate said, as she pushed him through the door. When they were outside she let go of him and folded her arms.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded, struggling to keep her voice down.
‘I wanted to get out,’ he said. ‘I was supposed to be going to Liverpool with Andy but he got stuck behind a surfboard …’ he paused, ‘No, a surfboard fell on the motorway and so he had to stay in Leeds.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you making this shit up, Phil?’
‘It’s true! Check the news.’
‘Whatever.’ Kate shook her head. ‘You need to leave me alone. Understand?’
‘I didn’t know you were here! I wanted a pub where there wouldn’t be a load of people, so I chose this place.’
‘That’s such bullshit, Phil, and you know it.’ She looked at him, noticed his bloodshot eyes. ‘You never come here. What’s happening to you? You’re falling apart.’
‘I miss you,’ he said. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving me crazy.’
How crazy? she thought. Exactly how crazy is this driving you?
‘You’re going to have to stop,’ she said. ‘You’re going to have to move on.’
‘I can’t,’ he said, a look of utter desperation on his face. ‘Kate, I can’t.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But I can’t help you, Phil. Only you can do that. And please, stop following me.’
‘I didn’t! I swear I didn’t know you were here!’
‘So this is sheer coincidence?’ She gave a low, sardonic laugh. ‘Until you start being honest, you’re never going to get over this.’ She paused. ‘And more to the point, how did you know I was here?’
‘I didn’t.’ He looked at her, his expression utterly wretched. ‘Kate, I promise.’
Kate shook her head in disgust. ‘Go home,’ she said. ‘And from now on, leave me alone.’
He backed away from her, tears in his eyes. She was surprised that he didn’t head for the road; instead, he walked around the side of the pub.
‘What are you doing?’ Kate called.
He reappeared, pushing his bike in front of him.
‘Getting this,’ he said.
His bike. She stared at it. He’d been riding his bike a lot, it seemed.
‘What are you looking at?’ Phil said.
‘Nothing. But you shouldn’t be riding a bike,’ Kate said. ‘You’ve had too much to drink. And you’re not wearing a helmet.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t care,’ he said. ‘And don’t pretend you do.’ He climbed on his bike and started to ride away, bumping over the cobblestones.
Kate watched him go, then turned to go back inside, to Mike and her gin and tonic and steak and ale pie.
All of sudden, it felt a lot less inviting.
12
‘Thanks,’ she said, when she sat down.
Mike cocked his head to the side. ‘What for?’
‘For letting me deal with that. For not feeling you needed to come outside and protect me.’
‘Oh. Well, thanks for thanking me, but’ – he held up his hands – ‘that’s all between you and him. I take it he’s your ex? And he’s not handling the break-up that well?’
‘No. Not well at all. It’s been a while, but he can’t seem to move on.’
‘I can understand him being upset. There aren’t too many people like you around.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Kate said. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’
‘I mean it!’ He shrugged. ‘But if you don’t know how to take a compliment then that’s fine. I won’t waste any more on you.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far, Mike.’
‘How long’s it been since you broke up? Since before you went to Kalkan?’
‘Yeah. That trip was partly to get away from’ – she gestured in the direction Phil had taken – ‘all this. I mean, I don’t know how he even knew we were here.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sick of it, you know? Sick of it.’
‘Has there been a lot of trouble with him?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘How so?’
‘There’s been a lot of trouble, but I don’t know if it was all Phil.’
Mike leaned forwards. ‘What kind of trouble?’
‘There was someone who followed me in the car. And then someone was hiding on the street and watching me – that one was Phil – and then someone was in my house.’
His eyes widened. ‘Were they there when you were in there?’
‘No. I came home and the computer was switched off. And my filing cabinet had been messed with.’
‘You think it was Phil?’
‘I think it’s likely.’
Mike nodded. He looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe that’s how he knew you were here.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Do you leave your email logged in on your home computer? So when you open it you don’t need the password?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then maybe he checked your mail.’ He paused and held up his hands, as though apologizing. ‘I don’t want to accuse him of something he didn’t do, but if he was in your computer then he could have set it up so that it automatically forwards your emails to him. That way, he’d see whatever plans you were making. Like tonight?’
‘Is that possible?’
‘Sure. It’s pretty easy.’
Kate closed her eyes. This was getting more and more disturbing. ‘Can I check? And change it?’
‘I could take a look for you, if you want?’
‘I think,’ Kate said, ‘that t
hat would be a great idea.’
13
Phil pedalled furiously, the rushing air whipping up tears in his eyes and blurring the passing cars and people and trees.
It was so fucking unfair.
It wasn’t like he’d had many hopes left that they’d get back together, but the few he had had were now gone for good.
It was over. Over. Such a small word; such huge implications. He wanted to howl and scream; instead he pedalled harder. He knew now beyond all doubt that this was not a break while she figured out who she was and what she wanted. That was what she’d said, that was how she’d softened the blow, but it wasn’t true. It might have started like that, but it was empathically not the case now. She had moved on. She had left him behind.
He should have known it would come to this. He should have known that if she was happy she would not have broken up with him in the first place. He’d tried to tell himself that she was just curious, that she’d been with him since they were teenagers so it was natural that she’d want to see what life apart was like. He’d even reconciled himself to the fact that she might have sex with other men.
And it was all fine, if at the end she realized that what she had with Phil was special and unique and irreplaceable and came back to him.
But that was off the cards now. He could see that as clear as day. She was almost a different person; she’d grown somehow, and even he could see that they no longer fit together.
Moreover, she had a new boyfriend. He hadn’t seen him up close, but he’d caught a glimpse of his back. It was why he’d dropped his pint. She was out on a date. Already. Bitch.
So what now? He had nowhere to go. Andy was in Leeds, his parents were down in Dorset, in the cottage they’d retired to. Most of his other friends were in relationships with Kate’s friends – Matt and Gus, for example – which was what happened when you stayed in your hometown and lived with your high school sweetheart.
He was going to have to start again. Maybe move to a new town. Get a job in London or Cornwall or Timbuc-fucking-too. Somewhere far away where he didn’t know anyone and he could become whoever he wanted. Get a new girlfriend, a hot twenty-two-year-old fuck bunny. Have affairs with her friends. Take drugs and use prostitutes. Do whatever he felt like.
He’d tried to be a good, solid citizen. The kind of person who made a good husband and father. He’d worked hard and stayed sober and treated Kate with nothing but love and respect and care. And look where that had got him.
Well, it was time for a change. He was going to do what he wanted. Be irresponsible and free and have some fucking fun.
But that was the future. What about now, what about this evening?
The answer came to him and he grinned. Yes, that was it. If today was the end of the old Phil and the start of the new, then he needed to recognize that. Do something symbolic to mark his transformation.
And he knew just the thing.
She’d changed the lock.
Of course she had: she thought he’d been in the house and she wanted to make sure he didn’t come in again.
He withdrew his key and headed around the side of the house. What she had forgotten – if she had ever known – was that the window in the downstairs bathroom had a broken catch and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t have had it fixed. Either way, it was worth a try.
He felt strangely calm about breaking into his ex-girlfriend’s home, although since she was staying at her parents’ house he didn’t think there was much chance of being caught. Still, he’d have expected his heart to be racing, adrenaline pumping, but it wasn’t. He was emotionless.
Not himself, almost.
And he wasn’t feeling guilty, either. He didn’t care what she thought of him now. She’d made her position clear enough, so now he had nothing to lose.
He glanced around. No one there. He pushed the window open and levered himself off the ground. A few seconds later he was in.
Oh God, the smell. He had barely noticed it when he lived there, but now it hit him and a wave of nostalgia threatened to overcome him. He inhaled deeply, a look of near ecstasy on his face, then he shook his head and walked softly through the kitchen and living room to the hall.
He walked up the stairs, checking that his shoes were not leaving marks on the cream-coloured carpet, then pushed the door to the main bedroom open.
The bed was unmade. He put his hands on the sheets – so familiar, so comfortable – and lowered his face to the soft cotton. Again, he inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent. Her scent.
He stood up and crossed the room to the chest of drawers. He opened the top one and looked inside. It was half-full – she’d taken a lot of stuff to her parents – but he picked through the jumbled contents, letting the underwear slide through and over his fingers. He took out pairs of her knickers at random, remembering her wearing them, remembering peeling them off, pulling them over her hips and down her legs and throwing them onto the bedroom floor.
He was getting an erection. For a moment he considered masturbating, but he stopped himself; this was about moving on, saying goodbye, not returning to the past.
He wanted to though, desperately wanted to, but not as much as he wanted to have sex with her one more time, lie next to her and kiss her breasts and stomach and thighs, feel the softness of her skin, be with her like that, one last time.
But that would never happen. Some other guy was fucking her now. He bit back a wail of anguish, and left the room.
He walked around the rest of the house, letting his memories flood over him, letting himself be swallowed up by his grief, letting all his emotions come to the fore. It felt good, cathartic, a way to finally move on. When he was done, he went back to the kitchen and stood in front of the sink.
He was thirsty. Very thirsty. Hangover-on-the-way thirsty. He turned on the tap and cupped his hands under the stream of water, lifting them to his mouth and drinking, again and again.
He heard a noise.
Hands halfway to the tap, he froze, and listened.
It was the front door, opening. Someone was here. Kate, it had to be, probably bringing her new man back here for a quick screw before she went back to her parents’ house.
Fuck. He had to get out of there. He turned off the tap – the water sounded incredibly loud as it gurgled down the drain – and headed for the downstairs bathroom. The window squeaked as he pushed it open and he winced at the noise. He shrugged; it was too late to do anything about it now. He climbed out and grabbed his bike.
As he rode away he saw the lights go on in the living room.
Shit, he thought. That was close.
14
Kate switched on the light in the hall. It was not yet dark outside but the sun was dipping below the horizon.
‘Did you hear that?’ she said.
Mike shook his head. ‘I didn’t hear anything.’
‘It sounded like a door shutting.’ She gestured to the rear of the house. ‘Or a window. It came from the kitchen.’ She paused. ‘Unless I’m hearing things, which isn’t surprising after Phil’s performance this evening. It’s making me paranoid.’
‘I’ll go and check,’ Mike said.
Kate followed him through the living room. He flicked on the kitchen light. It was empty.
‘No one here,’ he said.
Kate looked around. ‘The sink’s wet,’ she said. ‘Look.’
As she spoke, a large drip fell from the tap onto the brushed metal base of the sink.
‘Leaky tap,’ Mike said. ‘That’s all.’
He reached out and turned the tap. It moved about a quarter turn. ‘It wasn’t fully off,’ he said. ‘Probably been dripping like that since you left.’
Kate opened the fridge. It was pretty bare. ‘Drink?’ she said. ‘I think there’s some red wine around.’
‘I’ll have water,’ Mike said. ‘I’m in the car. Or tea, if you have any.’
Kate frowned. ‘No milk,’ she said.
‘Water it is then,’ Mike sai
d. ‘Now, let’s have a look at this computer.’
‘Well,’ he said, a few minutes after he sat down at the monitor. ‘Two things are pretty obvious.’
‘OK,’ Kate said, sipping a glass of wine. ‘Go ahead.’
‘One, you need a new computer. This thing’s not much more advanced than a Spectrum Forty-eight K.’
‘A what?’
‘Never mind. Before your time. But the point stands: this is pretty badly out of date.’
‘And the second thing?’
‘Someone has been reading your emails.’
Kate sat up. ‘How do you know?’
‘Every email you receive or send is forwarded to another email address. [email protected], to be exact. Ring any bells?’
Kate shook her head. ‘None.’
‘The thing is, your email would normally alert you to the fact that it was forwarding, but this was done outside the application.’
‘What does that mean, in English?’
‘It means that there’s a program on your computer which is running in the background, intercepting your emails and sending them on. As long as you’re logged into your email on this computer – which you always are – then every email you send or receive is getting read.’
‘And how the fuck would that get on there?’
‘Someone would have to install it.’
‘Someone like Phil. Someone with a key for my house.’ She banged her fist on her knee. ‘That’s how he knew where we were. That bastard’s been spying on me.’
‘It certainly seems that way.’
‘Can you remove it?’
Mike nodded. ‘Yeah. Pretty easy, once you know it’s there. You want me to?’
Kate thought for a few moments, then shook her head. ‘Not yet. Let’s give that shithead a taste of his own medicine.’
‘Sounds interesting. What are you thinking?’
She told him, and he laughed.
‘You,’ he said, ‘have an evil mind.’
Ten minutes later they were ready.
Mike gave her a thumbs up. ‘Should be in your inbox now,’ he said.
Kate checked on her phone. There it was, an email from Rod_Granthorpe4537.