Chapter 10

I couldn’t hear my phone but I’d left it in view, so when the screen lit up at one-thirty I saw: “Incoming call Faye Perkins”. I sighed and took off my headphones. Was she going to apologise? Explain?

“Hello Faye.”

“There’s someone following me.” She was talking quietly, but sounding terrified! So it had to be someone quite near to her?

Jesus Christ.

“Alright where are you?” I was scrambling to my feet.

“Montgomery Street.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” I thought about which way she’d be going, towards where she lives. “Have you passed Whitcombe Street yet?”

“No,”

“Okay take Whitcombe Street. If there’s a house with a light on, ring the bell. If there’s a loose brick on a wall or anything like that pick it up and break the side window of a car, especially an expensive car, to set the alarm off. Head for the main road, not anywhere quiet. Don’t be quiet either. Make a lot of noise. Scream.”

“Okay,” her breathless voice made me desperate to get to her. But Faye would NOT make a noise; couldn’t - she’s just not like that, as her pursuer was no doubt detecting and banking on.

“Alright I’m coming. Keep thinking.”

By now I had my car keys and was slamming the front door. I raced desperately over to Whitcombe Street, which took me an agonising four minutes perhaps. I cursed myself for not having Bluetooth in the car so I could call the cops. Perhaps Faye would. Why hadn’t I told her to?

When I got there Faye was standing on the corner, on her own.

“He’s gone,” she told me as I rushed round to her.

I went to embrace her, but found my hands were on her upper arms instead. I was holding her, but at a distance. I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t control my feelings: she wasn’t mine any more. She was somebody else’s, or even multiple guys’. It was wrong of me to be possessive, or jealous, or controlling, whatever it was, but I couldn’t help it, even while hating it. Perhaps if I hadn’t actually seen it ... but I had, and heard it too.

She looked into my eyes and knew instantly that things had changed, and why. Heartbreak flashed across her face, then it shut down. Alice must have described me.

“What happened, where did he go?” I asked. I fought against my feelings, but kept losing.

“He was catching me up, I think he saw I was phoning, so I went up to a house, up to the door, and when he saw me ring the bell and I didn’t have a key he came after me, up the path, so I took his photo and then I posted my phone through the letter box. The flash went, so he knew I’d got a photo of his face.”

“Then what?”

“He called me a fucking bitch and ran off. I thought he was going to hit me, but he didn’t.”

Christ.

“How did you know to do that? I’ve never heard of that.”

“I don’t know. It just came to me. I got my phone ready while I was going along, so I must’ve seen it somewhere.”

I pulled her into a cuddle, though it felt too deliberate.

“You star,” I said, “that was wonderful.”

“Thank you for coming,” she said. She wasn’t really snuggling into me, or putting her arms round me.

“So have you got your phone back?” I was being too practical, but I couldn’t help myself; just could not forget the scene in the bedroom.

“Yes the guy came and answered the door, after I rang again. He said I shouldn’t be walking around on my own at this time of night.”

“Victim-blaming.”

“I suppose. Anyway I’m okay.”

“Alright well let’s get you back. You can call the police in the morning and send them the photo, so he’s on their radar.”

“Thanks.”

I hadn’t kissed her, and when we arrived at her house I didn’t get the chance. She was shaky, but she opened the door as the car stopped and was out before any more rejection could befall her.

“Thanks a lot, bye,” she said as she closed the door and turned away. She’d no more than glanced at me. Not from hostility, but from fear of seeing I didn’t love her any more.