Katy tried to blend into the background, but she could see Louis checking the seats methodically, pursued by two smart and well-groomed staff. It was bizarre how she clocked their Highland-style uniforms in spite of the impending confrontation.
‘Where are you, you silly bitch? I know you’re here somewhere.’
Katy’s stomach knotted. She’d thought that she was free of the idiot, and now he was here to spoil her last moments before making her escape. She shuffled in her seat, turning towards the window. As she did so, the two envelopes that Emma had given her slid out of her pocket. One was from the Inland Revenue. What a send-off! Louis and the tax man there to wave her goodbye. The other had a computer-printed label on it. It wasn’t corporate, it looked like it had been sent from a home address. She wanted to open it there and then, but sensing Louis at the seat behind her, she stuffed the mail deep in her pocket and pulled up the hood on her jacket.
‘Found you, you bitch!’
Katy held steady, facing the window.
‘Sir, that’s enough. If you don’t leave this minute, we will have to ask the police to escort you from the train.’
It was the female assistant who spoke. Instinctively and with well-practised contempt, Louis thrust out his hand and pushed her away. She stumbled and fell into the aisle, bumping the young trekker in his seat as she did so. The colleague who was with her stepped back, shocked by what he’d seen, and not at all certain that he dared to tackle this idiot.
Katy turned so that Louis could see her face. She didn’t want the staff to take any more of his nonsense. She’d need to confront him.
‘Piss off, Louis. I’ve told you it’s over.’
‘It’s not over until I say it is. What do you think you’re doing? Do you really think you can run away from me?’
‘You drove me to this, Louis. I don’t want to see you again. Accept that it’s over. It ended the moment that you hit me in that alley.’
Katy was half-aware of something going on behind her, but she was watching Louis’s clenched fists. It was like looking at a bomb which was about to explode.
‘I’m taking you off this train and we’re talking. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you. I told you I’d had too much to drink. I love you, Katy … we’re meant to be together.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Louis. Do you really think I’m coming back to you? I stayed far too long. It’s over. Leave me alone. I don’t want to see you again.’
‘Well, you don’t get a choice in that—’
‘Excuse me, mate.’
Louis was caught off-guard. He wasn’t used to being interrupted. He expected to be listened to. He turned around, his face bright red.
‘Fuck off!’ he screamed at the young guy who’d stepped on board with the rucksack.
The young guy smiled at Louis and turned to the other passengers, addressing them as if they were his audience.
‘You heard that, right? You saw what he did to this young lady?’
The man nodded towards the train assistant who was now sitting down being comforted by the Mills and Boon lady. There was a murmur of agreement.
The young guy’s fist came out, hard, fast and sure. Louis dropped to the ground like a brick.
‘My nose!’ he squealed. ‘You broke my nose!’
‘Apologise to these two ladies,’ the young guy said, calm and cool.
‘Fuck you!’ Louis screamed again.
The young guy stepped up to him as he lay on the floor and struck him a second time.
‘Apologise to these ladies,’ he said once more, completely relaxed, as if he did this every day.
‘Soddy,’ came the nasally reply. Louis’s nose was streaming blood.
‘Now fuck off!’ the man said.
Louis took one look at him, as if he was considering a final challenge, but thought better of it. He began to crawl along the aisle, then stood up and placed his hand on the carriage door.
‘I dow where you’re goin,’ he muttered through his bloodied nose. ‘Don think thid is ober, you bitch!’
The cavalry arrived in the form of a British Transport Police officer who looked like he’d stepped out of an episode of Heartbeat. It was a good job that a hot pursuit hadn’t been required, he might not have been up for it. Louis was escorted from the train. The tension eased immediately and there was a round of applause for the young man who’d had the courage to see off the idiot.
He smiled, made a little bow and then turned to Katy.
‘Oliver Harris,’ he said, holding out his hand.
‘Pleased to meet you.’
Chapter Nine
Caledonian Sleeper, 2017
‘Thank you so much for doing that,’ Katy said, feeling immense relief that Louis had been taken off the train. If she could have inflicted such heavy damage on him herself, she would have done so a long time ago. At last, a bit of justice in the world.
Of course, Louis had been ranting and raving about legal action, assault and ruining careers as he was removed from the carriage. The usual nonsense from a powerless bully. It didn’t seem to perturb Oliver at all.
‘Your knuckles are bleeding,’ Katy observed. ‘Here, I’ve got a tissue somewhere.’
‘I’ve never done anything like that before,’ Oliver replied. ‘That guy sparked something in me. What is he, your husband or something? Okay if I move your bag?’
Katy nodded and Oliver stowed her rucksack between the backs of the seats. She caught sight of Emma waving at her from the platform as the train began to move. She’d completely forgotten about her in all the commotion. She waved back, hoping that she would be able to see from that distance. She could see that Louis was shouting something at her. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what it would be. The word bitch would be in there somewhere – and some nonsense about getting his revenge. Poor Emma, she might get some hassle herself now that Louis knew she’d been on the platform. She fumbled for her phone to send a text, but Oliver had moved her bag and was asking if it was okay to sit in the opposite seat.
The male train assistant, who looked incredibly grateful for Oliver’s intervention, returned from the bar area with some ice for his knuckles.
‘Can I get you anything from the bar?’ he asked, ‘as a thank you for doing that. I thought things were going to turn nasty there.’
Oliver looked towards Katy, prompting her to order first.
‘I’ll have a glass of red wine, if that’s okay. Thank you.’
‘A lager for me,’ Oliver replied, taking his seat.
The female assistant was still shaken, but had been taken away by a more senior member of staff. There was an air of gratitude in the carriage – it had been some start to a long journey.
‘He’s my boyfriend, by the way,’ Katy said as he settled in the seat and ran an ice cube over his knuckles. ‘Ex-boyfriend. He’s a liability. You might not have done anything like it before, but you certainly sorted him out. Thank you.’
‘I’m still shaking, to be honest with you,’ Oliver smiled. He was handsome, with a bright, friendly face. He had a confidence about him, but it wasn’t arrogance. He was clearly comfortable talking to women, and there was no hesitation as he struck up a conversation with Katy.
The drinks arrived. Katy took a larger sip of wine than she should have. She needed it.
‘Steady,’ Oliver said. ‘We’re not even out of London yet!’
The alcohol immediately put Katy at her ease. She’d already forgotten to send that text to Emma.
‘You stood up to him really well. Somebody should have done that a long time ago.’
‘Where are you headed? Call me Olly, by the way, not Oliver. I don’t use Oliver, it sounds so bloody posh.’
‘Fort William,’ Katy replied. ‘I’m walking the Great Glen Way.’
‘To get away from that arsehole?’
‘Pretty well. And everything else in my shitty life. I’m going to travel the world. I’m selling up and seeing what happens.’
‘Wow, good for you!’ Olly replied. ‘Put it all behind you, ditch the ex and make a fresh start. Did you leave a job?’
‘Prepare to be underwhelmed,’ Katy replied after taking a second large sip of wine. ‘I was an accountant – well, I still am. I’m going to work on the road now. Wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home.’
‘An accountant? That’s boring! I thought you were going to say you did something exciting, like being a librarian or an archivist. You really know how to do adrenalin, don’t you?’
He smiled. He was charming, naturally so.
‘Piss off!’ Katy laughed. ‘So what is it that you do that’s so interesting?’
‘I don’t have a job as such. I do internet stuff – selling T-shirts online. With funny slogans. Hilarious things like No Wi-Fi? It’s time to move out! and Old People’s Tinder. Matches Required! You get the gist: ironic slogans for millennials. I can’t believe they sell either, but they do.’
‘Brilliant!’ said Katy, impressed. She slipped the wedding ring off her finger and into her bag. Maybe she wouldn’t be needing it that night.
Tom Clancy man came up to them and leaned over the table to talk conspiratorially.
‘Jolly good job there, son. Thank you for sorting out that idiot. I’d have done the same myself had it been twenty years earlier. The world needs more people like you.’
‘No problem,’ Olly smiled, holding up his hand. ‘You don’t know how to sort these out, do you?’ His knuckles were no longer bleeding, but they looked sore and red.
‘They’ll feel stiff in the morning, but they’ll ease up soon. You only hit him twice. Keep using the ice.’
‘Great,’ Olly replied. ‘Thank you.’
Tom Clancy man went back to his seat. His wife had resumed reading her Mills and Boon. The business passengers were at ease, happily continuing their discussions about the problems with the boss, the inefficiencies in the office, and how they’d get it all sorted out if they were in charge.
‘How does that work then?’ Katy picked up. ‘Do you keep the T-shirts in your backpack?’
Olly laughed again. He was nice. He wasn’t sneering at her, it was rather that he’d found her question endearing. She wished Louis had been capable of that.
‘I take it you and the internet don’t get along too well. I do it all from my laptop. I get them drop-shipped and the money goes into my Paypal account. I travel all over the world, like you’re about to do.’
‘I’m not that bad with web stuff,’ Katy replied, ‘but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. I’m going to have to get better at it because my entire business will be run through my Mac from now on. How cool am I?’
‘Can I check your tickets please?’
The conductor had reached them.
‘Are you both okay?’ he asked. ‘Thank you for doing what you did. Fiona is a bit shaken, but she’s very grateful to you for helping out.’
Katy located her ticket and handed it to the conductor.
‘I hope she’s alright. I guess you don’t get a lot of trouble on these sleepers. Hang on, I’ll get my ticket,’ Olly replied.
‘You’re in berth 11L,’ the conductor told Katy. ‘You can access your room now if you want to. You’re lucky, you’ve got it to yourself, it’s a quiet night.’
Olly handed over his ticket.
‘You’re in the seats,’ he said, ‘but if you want a table in the lounge this evening, that’s fine. I’ll let the steward know there’s no problem. And don’t worry about that idiot. If he tries to take any legal action, we’ll say it was self-defence. We have a zero tolerance of violence on board. We’ll back you up, don’t worry.’
He moved back along the carriage.
‘So, you’re in the posh seats,’ said Olly. ‘You won’t keep that up for long, not once you’ve been at this for a while. Cheap seats make the money go further.’
‘I still have money left from working, so I’m safe for quite a while. I thought I’d treat myself. At least I didn’t go First Class, that might have been too indulgent.’
‘Well, enjoy!’ Olly smiled. ‘It’s a great experience, these sleepers are amazing.’
‘I’d better find my berth and sort myself out,’ Katy said. ‘Want to join me in the lounge later on and I’ll buy you a drink?’
‘Yeah, why not. Is ten too late? That gives you twenty minutes. Is that okay?’
Katy nodded and stood up. She picked up her backpack from the space between the seats and started to make her way towards the door.
‘See you later!’ she waved, smiling at the other passengers as she walked along the carriage. They had a connection now, since they’d all been involved in the earlier altercation.
Katy hadn’t had time to take in the environment on the sleeper train. It was similar to a regular train, but with elements that you’d also find on a ferry. There were more places to sit, and the cheap seats, as Olly had called them, were wider with more room to stretch than usual. The lounge looked amazing, it was very inviting. It had the feel of Air Force One, or at least the portrayal of it on TV. It was a regular bar-restaurant fitted into a narrow space. Katy loved it.
She found her berth. It was a tight fit in there, and she was pleased she wouldn’t have to share the room. It gave a better feeling of space without the upper bunk lowered. After a few minutes she’d got herself organised. She perched on the narrow bunk and checked her phone. Emma had sent her a text.
Lucky escape! L was really kicking off after they took him off the train. You’re well rid of him. Sorry he messed up your departure. Be good, Em x
Katy sent a reply. It was good to hear from Emma though she hadn’t even been gone an hour.
It’s over now, I’m free of him. Thx for helping, sorry it got messy. Missing you already :-) K xxx
As Katy went to return the phone to her pocket she felt the crumpled envelopes that she’d rammed in there earlier. She took them out and studied each one in turn. The letter from HMRC was a notification about her final tax from work, nothing to worry about. She hadn’t thought out what she was going to do about any letters she received on her travels. Normally, they would have been tucked into a filing cabinet at home. She took a photo of it with her phone, and then tore it up into tiny pieces and dropped them into the small bin that was tucked under the sink. She wouldn’t be able to gather clutter on the road. She’d need to use paperless options for storing notifications like that.
It was the other envelope that was intriguing her. As an accountant she was primed to open the HMRC brown envelope first, and with that out of the way she studied the more interesting letter. It was definitely printed at home. She was no expert but it looked like the smudged print of an inkjet printer rather than the sharp professionalism of a corporate laser model.
It was a London postcode: E11, Leytonstone. She didn’t know anybody who lived there. Katy tore it open. Inside was a single piece of white printer paper folded neatly into quarters. The paper and envelope were mismatched in size – this was definitely a personal note. Nobody ever wrote her letters anymore. Who could it be from? She unfolded the paper and scanned the note. There was no address and no date. Just a short, printed note, short and sharp.
You’re to blame.
Chapter Ten
Caledonian Sleeper, 2017
Katy had known she was going to sleep with Olly as soon as they started chatting in the lounge bar. The letter had shaken her, and she needed the company. Besides, he was hot and much younger than her. They’d never see each other again after the train journey, so what did it matter?
Only, it did matter. This was the reason she’d packed in her job and decided to travel the world. It was time to leave the bad choices behind and make a fresh start, but it seemed the past still wasn’t done with her.
She hadn’t got much sleep on the train. She and Olly had met up in the bar as planned, and she’d set about the red wine straightaway. Already a little light-headed from their earlier drink in the carriage, it wasn’t long
before they were laughing away at Olly’s adventures backpacking. It was an entirely new world to her, but for Olly it was his life. He related stories of terrible toilets in Thai hostels, deadly insects in sleeping bags and a list of stomach complaints that made her resolve only ever to drink bottled water when out of Europe. But the way Olly told it, it made her laugh. He wasn’t that much younger – thirty-one – so it didn’t feel too weird hooking up with him. He probably had a girl in every port, and she’d be another tick in a box, alongside a night in Bangkok or Seoul.
He stirred next to her. It had reminded her of Elijah in those bloody university dorm-room beds. They were three feet wide and a devil to share with a boyfriend. The beds in the sleeper train were even narrower. Sex had been more like working through a set of IKEA instructions than the passionate and reckless affair that she’d have preferred it to have been.
Still, it made her forget the letter for a while. When she’d read it, she wanted to tear it up and throw it in the bin alongside the debris from the HMRC notification, but instead she’d stared at it for ten minutes, wondering who might have sent it, and why now? Perhaps Louis really had been following her Facebook posts.
Katy surveyed the debris on the floor. Her knickers had got caught on the door lock when she’d thrown them to the side. She couldn’t have managed that on purpose if she’d tried. The condom was stuck on the sink cover where she’d pulled it out and thrown it aside. At least Olly had come prepared. She hadn’t packed condoms. She’d get some in Fort William. She hated the bloody things but at least they’d help her stay healthy.
She considered moving. Her back was stiff. She was closest to the edge of the bed, and she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t tumbled out onto the floor. At least there was a pile of clothes there that would’ve broken her fall. She was naked and a bit chilly. She could feel Olly’s breath on her neck. One thing about younger men, they didn’t snore. Louis had made a racket at night.
Two Years After ; Friends Who Lie ; No More Secrets Page 37