Polly was handed a margarita as soon as she got to the table. She promptly downed it in one.
‘Thirsty?’ Crispin asked. ‘Want another?’
She nodded with out hesitation.
There were four couples at the table, five including ‘Polliver’. There was Crispin and his wife Sophie who had just had a baby; Alex and Millie; Lucas and his Portuguese girlfriend Elena; and Julian and his pregnant wife Lucy. The food came in dribs and drabs as it was ready, a few starters here and a main course there. They decided not to wait for everyone’s food to arrive; instead they just tucked in, sharing one another’s plates.
As the evening wore on, Polly began to relax a little. Oliver held her hand under the table, encouraging her to become more involved in the conversation. She didn’t; she was just happy to be with him.
Halfway through the meal, when all the mains and two-thirds of the starters had been brought out, Polly got up to use the loo. The restaurant housed a series of low-ceilinged corridors that opened up on to one main dining area. She couldn’t figure out which one led to the ladies’ so had to ask the waiter where to go. He instructed her to turn right just before the front door and follow the corridor to the end. She felt a little drunk as she went down the darkened passageway and through the toilet door at the end.
As she walked in, she caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror above the basin. It made her jump. When she realised it was her own reflection, she laughed and shook her head, ‘Get a grip, Polly,’ she said aloud.
She went into the last cubicle on the end of the row. She figured it would be the least used toilet. Or maybe not, maybe everyone thought the same.
Once she’d been, she smoothed her dress down and flushed the toilet. The lock on the door clicked loudly as she drew it back. Again she jumped. She washed her hands at the basin and then splashed cold water on her face.
‘You’re fine, Polly,’ she said to her reflection. ‘Nothing’s going to happen with Oliver around. You’re fine.’
She dried off her face, tousled her hair to give it a bit of body, and left.
She was just making her way back to the table, past the front door, when it suddenly opened, knocking into her. An immaculately groomed blonde with pink glossy lips and a string of pearls round her neck tried to push past her. Polly stopped abruptly.
‘Darling, be careful, you nearly knocked the poor girl off her feet.’
She recognised the voice instantly. Her heart froze.
A pair of hands went around the girl’s shoulders before his face slowly came into view from behind the door.
Polly stared back at him in shock. She didn’t know what to do. Her instincts told her to run, get away from him as fast as she could, but to where? She glanced back at the table. Crispin was up on his feet, pulling a silly face, doing an impression of someone. Everyone else was laughing, including Oliver. She turned back to face him; his eyes had followed hers and he was now looking over at the table, smiling. Her frozen heart suddenly kicked into life and started beating so fast she thought it might explode. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to the table. What if he followed? She looked over again. Oliver had noticed her; he had a confused look on his face, as though he couldn’t understand what she was doing hanging about the front door. He waved at her to come back. She had no choice. She slowly made her way over on jelly legs. She had to restrain herself from running back as fast as she could. Keep cool, she told herself.
She shuffled back in next to Oliver without looking back. It wasn’t easy – she was shaking so much, she kept tripping over her feet. She had no idea where he was, and she didn’t want to know. The only thing she could do right now was pretend he wasn’t there, pretend everything was fine. He wouldn’t do anything with all these people around her in the middle of a busy restaurant, surely? She grabbed on to Oliver’s hand under the table and squeezed it tight. He squeezed back.
The conversation continued around her as if nothing had happened. Polly kept her head down and tried to take even, steady breaths, trying to stay as calm as possible. But she could already feel pins and needles in her fingers and crawling up her legs.
‘Are you all right, Polly?’ Lucy asked from across the table. ‘You look really pale.’
Polly looked up. She opened her mouth to say she was fine, but the word dropped silently when she saw him striding towards the table. The blonde walked beside him, his outstretched hand on the back of her neck as if he were steering her.
What was he doing? He was looking directly at Polly, coming straight towards her. She tensed everything, preparing for the worst.
‘Oh, my God,’ said Oliver. ‘Sebastian?’
All the men started getting up from the table.
‘Seb, so glad you could make it,’ said Crispin.
They were all gravitating round him, shaking hands and slapping backs.
‘Mate, how you doing?’ said Oliver, giving him a big bear hug.
Polly gripped on to the side of the table, trying to keep it all together while the world swung upside down around her.
Everyone started shuffling round to make room for him and the blonde girl.
‘We can’t stay long, just dropped by for a quick drink,’ he said.
He chose to sit directly opposite Polly. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Crispin went round the table checking that everyone had been introduced to him. Sebastian. Polly was forced to look up when he reached her.
‘And this is Oliver’s girlfriend.’
‘Ah, yeah,’ he said, ‘we’ve met before, haven’t we, Polly?’
Polly couldn’t speak. She was so overcome no sound would come out.
Crispin suddenly started coughing, choking on his drink. ‘Down the wrong hole,’ he said in a raspy voice.
‘So what you been up to?’ asked Oliver.
‘Been busy, dividing my time between here and the States. Emmi doesn’t like to be left on her own too long, do you, honey?’
He turned and kissed the blonde. His hand was still cupping the back of her neck. He owned her.
‘The wedding’s only a couple of months away,’ she replied in her slow, deliberate American drawl.
Polly suddenly felt jealous, then instantly disgusted with herself. She needed to get out of here, get some air. She couldn’t cope with what was happening. She was just about to make her move and negotiate her way out when a waiter appeared with champagne.
‘What’s all this?’ asked Crispin.
‘For your birthday, bud,’ replied Sebastian.
Several bottles of Moët were popped and glasses filled.
‘A toast,’ said Sebastian when everyone had a glass. ‘To my very good friends. Never take life too seriously: no one gets out of here alive,’ he said, looking directly at Polly and smiling.
Everyone laughed then lifted their glasses and clinked them together. Polly could only lift her glass a fraction off the table. With that one look he’d drained every ounce of strength from her.
‘Darling,’ Emmi said tugging Sebastian’s sleeve. ‘We gotta go.’
He removed his hand from her neck and looked at his watch. ‘Shit, you’re right.’
With that they both got up and said their goodbyes. They’d only been at the table less than ten minutes, but to Polly it felt like a lifetime.
‘Wow, who was that guy?’ asked Elena once they’d gone. ‘He’s like a whirling wind.’
‘Whirlwind,’ said Lucas, correcting her English.
‘Yes, a whirling wind,’ said Elena in her soft, singsong accent.
Polly reached for her glass. She needed a drink to steady her nerves, but pulled her hand back when she saw how much it was shaking.
‘Sebastian,’ replied Crispin. ‘Yeah, he’s a bit full-on.’
All the men at the table agreed.
‘You know his dad is one of the richest guys ever,’ Oliver said, then paused grasping for an example, ‘like Sultan of Brunei rich or Bill Gates rich – he’s a billionaire.’
‘Hey, hey, stop. I don’t even want to think about that.’
Polly’s head started throbbing and her ears buzzed – what the hell was Crispin talking about?
‘What do you mean?’ asked Elena.
‘Oliver’s sister, Charlotte, and Sebastian’s brother, Ed, were once engaged,’ said Crispin.
‘Really?’ said Elena.
‘Long, horrible story,’ replied Oliver. ‘Not much fun to talk about,’ he finished, making it clear that was all he was going to say on the subject.
‘Good idea, let’s move on, don’t want to waste another breath on that fuck-up,’ said Lucas, lifting his glass to his mouth.
‘You do know he bought that champagne you’re quaffing,’ Crispin retorted.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Elena interested.
‘Sebastian’s just a bit of a dick. Thinks he’s a really big deal, acting like he’s being really fucking funny when actually he’s being a total bastard. Doesn’t give a shit about anyone,’ answered Lucas, ignoring Crispin’s comment.
‘I’ve got a theory about Sebastian,’ chipped in Alex from the other side of the table.
‘Yes?’ said Elena encouragingly.
‘Think about it: if you’ve got that much money, why would you give a shit about anything or anyone? Remember when we were in the first year, I think it was right at the start of medical school, in the first term, and Sebastian’s body disappeared … ’
‘I am sorry,’ said Elena. ‘His what disappeared?’
Lucas explained. ‘In medical school everyone gets assigned a body to practise on and … ’
‘Practise on?’ interrupted Lucy.
‘You know – we get to cut up the people who donate their bodies to medical science.’
Lucy shook her head bemused.
‘So what happened to Sebastian’s body?’ asked Elena, trying to get back to the story.
‘We turned up to anatomy class one day and it was gone,’ continued Alex. ‘Dr Crawley and the lab tech guy were flapping about all over the place looking for it. No one knew what to do. It’s not every day that a dead body goes walkabout. Anyway, later that day there’s all this kerfuffle going on in the halls on campus. Some girl comes screaming out of her room half-naked and runs outside into the middle of the road … ’
‘Nothing unusual about that,’ joked Oliver.
Everyone laughed.
‘Quite,’ said Alex. ‘Anyway, this poor girl had just got back from the showers and sat on her bed to dry her hair. The bed felt kind of lumpy, so she pulled back the sheets to see what was there. Anyone want to take a guess what she found?’
‘Sebastian’s body?’ asked Elena.
‘You got it.’
‘That’s gross,’ said Lucy. ‘Who would do a thing like that?’
‘Sebastian. He’d been trying to get with this girl for weeks. She wasn’t having any of it; she had a boyfriend back home. I guess he felt he had to teach her a lesson or something.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘The thing is, everyone knew it was Sebastian who did it, it was bloody obvious, but nothing happened to him. If you or I did something like that, we’d be kicked out and banned from every medical institution in the country, but not Sebastian. He went home for a week then came back as if nothing had happened. About a month later, the Dean announced that Black Inc., his dad’s company, had donated over a million pounds to help fund a new research centre at the university.’
‘Oh, my God, that’s awful,’ said Elena.
‘Yeah,’ said Lucas. ‘Nothing makes people forget faster than a big fat cheque. All a total waste of money, of course: he never did graduate. Daddy’s grooming him to take over his media empire. It was a technical exercise, nothing more.’
‘Exactly my point,’ said Alex. ‘If you’ve spent your whole life doing whatever the fuck you want and getting away with it, where’s the incentive to play by the rules? There are no consequences, therefore the normal rules and laws that you and I live by don’t apply.’
The conversation danced around Sebastian for a minute or so longer before moving on.
Polly sat in shock. She didn’t know what scared her more – the fact that she was being stalked by a psychopath, or the fact that Oliver knew him.
Thirty-one
They left shortly after coffee. Polly was desperate to get out of there and tried to hurry Oliver along, but he was having none of it. He ordered a pudding, then a liqueur, and finally coffee.
They got a black cab back to Shepherd’s Bush. Polly sat in the corner, motionless, with her hands scrunched in her lap. She stared out of the window, watching the lights of London whizz by, her mind buzzing with a million questions. She was struggling to comprehend everything that had just happened. Charlotte had been engaged to his brother – how was it possible?
Her eyes suddenly started stinging and she realised she hadn’t blinked for the last couple of minutes.
After opening and closing her mouth several times, she finally managed to get a word out. ‘Oliver,’ she said slowly, dragging out his name.
‘Yes,’ he said absently, lost in his own thoughts.
‘What happened between Charlotte and that guy’s brother?’
He turned and looked at her. ‘Huh?’ he replied.
‘Sebastian. Sebastian’s brother.’ Saying his name aloud to Oliver felt so unnatural.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I didn’t know she was engaged.’
‘Yeah, a few years ago now.’
‘What happened?’
He looked over at her as if weighing up whether or not to tell. Finally he spoke, ‘To be honest, I don’t really know. Charlotte won’t talk about it, even now. All I know is that they had a massive row a couple of days before the wedding and she called it all off.’ He paused for a moment, as if that was all he was going to say, but then he started again. ‘We all thought it was a joke at first: Charlotte and Ed were perfect for one another.’ He stopped again. From the expression on his face, she could tell it was a painful, horrible memory.
‘Go on,’ said Polly encouragingly.
‘It was awful. She locked herself in her flat and wouldn’t let anyone in. We had to break the door down in the end. I hate even thinking about the state we found her in.’ He shuddered as he said it.
‘What?’ Polly asked, her voice barely a whisper.
‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this … ’
‘Please,’ said Polly.
He mistook her anguish for concern.
‘We found her in her wedding dress in a bath of cold, bloody water. I thought she was dead when I first saw her. There were at least four bottles of wine smashed all over the bathroom floor. Her legs and hands were cut to shreds from crawling about all over it. There was vomit everywhere. It was lucky she was in the bath and sitting upright; I hate to think what would have happened if she’d been lying flat on the floor.’
Polly stayed silent.
‘I feel really bad about the whole thing, I’m the one who introduced her to Ed. Sebastian and I were good mates at medical school. To this day, I still can’t understand what happened. I’ve asked her about it, and I’ve asked Ed about it, but neither one of them will talk.’
Polly was too drained to take in any more; she’d zoned out in an attempt to protect herself.
He looked over at her, then slid along the back seat and put his arm around her, pulling her in close. ‘Enough about all that. Did you have a nice night?’ He breathed his boozy breath all over her as he spoke.
‘Yep,’ she said quietly.
He snuggled in close, resting the side of his head on top of hers.
Polly thought she was going to be sick. She’d never believed in coincidence – the world was full of such random events that sooner or later you get inexplicable things happening – but this was something else entirely.
Polly spent the rest of the weekend in a daze.
Monday was August bank holiday so she didn’t have to go to work, much to her relief. It was a beautiful sunny day. Oliver wanted them to go out to a park, but she managed to persuade him to stay in and watch a box set with her. It was some American crime drama that she had no interest in watching – too gritty – but she was willing to endure it to avoid leaving the flat.
But it was Tuesday morning before she knew it. The thought of going outside terrified her. She had visions of Sebastian standing right up close to the front door, his nose resting on the shiny black paint, waiting for her to turn the handle so he could jump her. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought: she was under no illusions that he probably knew where Oliver lived, therefore he knew where Polly lived.
Oliver left for work half an hour before her. She spent several minutes going back and forth between the lounge and the bedroom windows to scope out the front and back of the flat. Just when she’d finally built up enough courage to leave for work, there was a loud bang from upstairs, a door slamming. That was it – she wasn’t going anywhere.
She called in to work sick. Alicia answered the phone. Polly said she had a bladder infection and that Oliver had put her on antibiotics. Alicia started going into great detail about a pelvic infection she’d had a while back and how painful it had been. Polly tried to tell her it wasn’t the same thing, different part of the body, but she carried on regardless. In the end Polly said she had to run to the loo and hung up.
But as soon as she was in the silence of the flat again, she regretted calling. Now she’d have to spend the entire day alone. Sebastian was probably on his way to get her right now. At least if she’d gone to work and he’d turned up there’d be people around. In the flat, there would be nobody to hear her scream.
She assumed her usual position on the sofa, right in the corner facing the lounge door so she could see through to the kitchen and into the hallway and front door. At first she just stared into space, but it wasn’t long before she started crying. How had all this happened? Everything was such a mess, and she had no idea how to fix any of it. She thought about what Sebastian had said. ‘Life as you know it is over, Polly.’ He’d been true to his word so far, what else was to come?
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