Bad Friends (25 page)

My mouth was completely dry, like I’d sucked up a desert. I parked the car badly behind a metallic BMW that I thought might have been Seb’s, narrowly avoiding crashing into the back, and fumbled for a cigarette, my fingers trembling with adrenaline. The girl was truly the stuff of nightmares.

I didn’t know what to do – but I was going to have to do something. My mobile made me jump as it rang in my pocket.

‘Maggie.’ It was DI Fox.

‘What a coincidence.’ My voice was as tinny and bright as a new copper penny. ‘I was about to ring you.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘About that girl, Fay Carter.’

‘What about her?’

‘I’ve just got this feeling –’ I paused, and then it plopped out, like a big dollop of cream that had been stuck for ages on a spoon. ‘I think she might be the one stalking me. She keeps turning up everywhere and she’s been slashing photos of me –’

‘I don’t think it’s her, Maggie,’ the policeman interrupted, annoyingly calm.

‘With all respect, DI Fox, I do,’ I said urgently. ‘I mean, at first I thought she was just mad, but now I’m seriously starting to think she’s bad too.’

‘She might well be both – but I don’t think she’s your stalker. ’Fraid I’ve got some bad news.’

‘You do surprise me, DI Fox.’ I took a drag so deep my cigarette practically withered.

‘We finally traced that mobile number you gave me. I’m sorry it took so long; I’d given it to my DS and she was off sick, so it got buried. Shoddy, that. I apologise.’

‘Go on, please.’ An Alsatian lolloped down the narrow pavement beside the car and Digby growled. I checked the doors were locked and pulled my coat closer, craving warmth.

‘It’s a contract phone; belongs to someone called –’ there was a slight pause, ‘Steven I. Sweeger, fictitious address. Ring any bells?’

‘Um, sort of. I mean, I don’t know him but I think he sent me some flowers.’

‘Charming.’

‘Not really. They were funereal.’

‘Right. Well, the name’s an anagram. I rang the number about half an hour ago. Did you – had you thought of doing that?’

‘Well, obviously.’ I was insulted. ‘It was the first thing I did. But no one ever answered. What does the anagram spell?’

‘It’s not very complicated. It spells, I’m afraid,
Revenge is Sweet
.’

I felt foolish for not working it out. ‘And did someone answer the phone?’ I whispered.

‘Yes. Someone did answer. You’re not going to like this, Maggie.’

Why did I get the feeling he was almost enjoying this?

‘Someone you know rather well. Your mate Alex Bailey.’

My gut rolled over. ‘I don’t believe it,’ I mumbled eventually. ‘I’m sure it’s that girl. She’s definitely after me.’

‘Believe it.’ Fox didn’t quite say
told you so
, but … ‘It was him, sweetheart, I’m afraid. No doubt about it.’

‘Are you really sure?’ I said.

‘Sure I’m sure, Maggie. He didn’t make no bones about it. I mean, he said it wasn’t his phone – but then he would, wouldn’t he? We’re bringing him in.’

I didn’t answer.

‘Maggie? You still there?’

The Alsatian padded back the other way, towards a big man silhouetted beneath the far end of the bridge.

‘I’m not sure, DI Fox, actually,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m really not sure where I am any more.’

By the time I got into the pub I was shaking with cold and unhappiness and suddenly paranoid about the reception I’d receive from Seb. But I couldn’t see him, and my heart sank further. Perhaps he’d already left. Then I spotted him deep in conversation with the dishevelled dark woman.

‘Maggie!’ He waved from the other side of the bar. ‘Over here.’

I raised a nervous hand. Thank God, though, he looked genuinely happy to see me.

‘Do you want a drink?’ I called, but he shook his head, indicating his own pint.

I ordered myself a large glass of red and managed half of it in one go. Then I had a thought. I took the drink over to a quiet corner and rang my father’s house, Digby lying faithfully on my feet. Jenny answered, slightly out of breath.

‘Those lilies,’ I launched straight in, ‘the ones I asked you to chuck away yesterday. Did you see who sent them by any chance?’

‘Ooh no.’ Her reply came too fast. ‘And, actually, they weren’t lilies, Maggie.’

‘Are you sure?’ I was confused.

‘Quite sure, yes.’ There was a small, embarrassed pause. ‘I gave them to Ethel at school actually – the nice lady who does the reading with the kids. I hope you don’t mind, but it seemed like such a waste, and she was ever so pleased, you know. No, they definitely weren’t lilies. They were a lovely sort of mixed autumnal bouquet.’

She sounded like a florist.

‘Right. And you’re sure you don’t know who sent them?’ I slugged back my drink. ‘It’d really help.’

‘Well,’ Jenny was flustered now, ‘I might have had just a little tiny peep at the card.’

‘And?’ I said impatiently. ‘I don’t mind, honestly.’

‘I think it was your boyfriend,’ she said apologetically, sure I was furious with her.

‘Alex?’ I scrunched my brow, watching Seb across the room as he laughed at something his companion said.

‘No, the other one. The lovely dark one. Hang on a sec. I’ll see if the card’s still here. I thought you might change your mind.’ I heard a scuffle and a curse. ‘Oh damn. That’s half the Persil gone! Ah, yes, here it is. “
To Maggie, from your sorry lover
.” I think it’s quite sweet, don’t you? I always did think he was a –’

‘Is it a normal card?’

‘What do you mean by normal?’

‘Is it,’ I took a deep breath, ‘it’s not a – an “
In Sympathy
” card, is it?’

‘Oh no.’ Jenny was horrified. ‘No, of course not. Just a little pink one with flowers on the bottom. I’ll keep it for you, shall I?’

‘Yes, please. Thanks, Jenny.’ I snapped off the phone.

Seb put an arm around me and kissed my cheek. ‘All right, babe. Are you okay? Hey.’ He patted Digby’s head fondly. ‘You’re back, good boy. What are you two doing hiding over here on your own? I wanted to introduce you.’

‘Sorry. I had to make a call. I just had a bit of a – a fright.’

‘Really? What now?’ He frowned.

‘Aha, yes. That is the question,’ I said. ‘What now, dear Seb? Or is it Yorrick?’ I tried to remember when I’d last eaten. Perhaps I should have some crisps. ‘I am truly surrounded, that’s what.’

‘Surrounded?’ Seb looked baffled now. ‘Is it too busy in here for you?’

‘No, I didn’t mean that. I’m just being silly. Or stalked. Depending on how you look at it.’ I drained my second drink
and shoved the glass back on the bar. ‘Look, Seb, thank you so much for inviting me, but I think I’d better go.’

‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘Already? You’ve only just got here.’

‘The thing is,’ I said very slowly, ‘the thing is, I’ve just found out my ex is probably an axe-murderer, apparently, or something, you know, something rather charming like that, and so – so –’ The enormity of what I was saying hit me suddenly and I reeled slightly.

‘Maggie?’

‘It’s just – I’m not very good company right now. I think I really need to get away,’ I mumbled, and picked up my bag, swaying a little as I straightened up. ‘I’ll call you.’

Seb grabbed my arm. ‘I don’t think you should go anywhere in this state, Maggie.’ He scrutinised my face. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘I am most certainly not drunk. I’ve only had one drink.’ I reconsidered. ‘Okay, two drinks. But I’m not drunk. Perish the thought!’ Most certainly I was a little confused, though. ‘I’m just in shock, that’s all. And that bloody girl keeps following me around and it’s all just starting to freak me out. I nearly crashed the car outside. I could have been mincemeat.’

‘You’ve lost me. What bloody girl?’

‘Bloody Fay Carter, that’s who. She turns up like a bad penny just when I don’t expect her.’

And then, through the increasingly rumbustious crowd, I saw a figure come through the far door, and the crowd parted between me and her just like the sea did for Moses, and I watched dumbfounded as that little hooded figure tripped over to the bar. I stared at her.

‘Maggie?’ Seb was shaking me gently. ‘Maggie, are you okay?’

‘That’s her,’ I whispered, and he had to bend to hear me. ‘Over by the bar.’

‘Who?’ He shook his head.

‘That’s Fay.’

He looked over just as the girl turned, just as her hood fell
back, and she raised a glass in toast to the group on her left. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ I heard her call, ‘I couldn’t find a bloody cash-point anywhere.’

It wasn’t Fay. It looked a little like her, a very little bit – but it definitely wasn’t her.

‘So apparently I really am losing it now,’ I tried to joke, but for some reason I was on the verge of tears, dangerously close to falling somewhere very dark, very deep. I sat very still on the bar-stool – thinking. Seb was obviously worried, I could sense his concern, but I couldn’t allay his fears, I couldn’t think of him right now. I simply didn’t know what to do, that was the truth. Vaguely, somewhere in the background I heard Seb order me some soup and a cup of coffee and then he led me to a table by the window and put his arm around me to try to make me warm. I was grateful for the touch but I felt a million miles away as I looked out of the window, and the grim night-lit world seemed to have speeded up outside. Three kids in hoods bowled past, their jeans slung low around snake-hips, their trainers very white against the dark pavement. Brake-lights streamed behind cars like ribbons of coloured water, and I felt like I was losing my mind. Again. What I’d always feared was finally happening.

‘Did you ever see that Madonna video where it’s all going very fast around her?’ I said distractedly. ‘I feel like that now.’ I leaned my cheek against the cold glass. ‘Like I’m here but nothing else is real. Like it’s all a – a big crazy blur.’

‘Maggie,’ Seb took both my hands in his, forcing me to look at him, ‘I’m really worried about you, you know.’

‘I’ve got to get out of here, Seb. I think that’s the answer.’ I glanced around me. ‘I don’t feel very safe any more.’

‘I think it’s in your head, Maggie babe,’ he said gently. ‘You’re perfectly safe here. You’re just really on the edge.’

And then I remembered DI Fox and what he’d just said about
Alex and one tear fell, plump and unstoppered, rolling down my cheek onto my knee, and then another followed. And I thought about that night in the summer and perhaps I should have known then, but I’d believed in him, in my beautiful, terrible Alex, even when it all went wrong. I’d taken my share of the blame because I had believed in his good, deep down. But obviously I’d been so wrong, so very, very wrong. I took a deep breath and staunched the tears.

When the soup came I made a show of eating it but there was still half a bowl left at the end. I drank the coffee and a glass of water to keep Seb happy, listening to him talk about the first night tomorrow and which critics they were hoping would come and how a big West End producer had already shown interest in the production and how Seb had a recall for the junior doctor in
Holby City
. And I was pleased for him, I really was, and I managed to smile a bit at him, but I couldn’t concentrate, I just kept seeing Alex’s face the first time he’d said he loved me and my mind went round and round like a Ferris wheel thinking,
How could we have come to this, how could he hate me enough to
persecute me so
?

In the end I stood up and pushed the bowl of soup away so it slopped onto the table in an ugly mess of little tomato bits.

‘Seb, thanks so much – but, look, I’ll leave you to it. This is your celebration. I don’t want to spoil it for you.’

‘You’re not spoiling it,’ he insisted, but I’d seen his glance gently slide to the group of actors in the snug, and I hugged him quickly.

‘I really, really want to be here tomorrow, but I think – I might not make it. Can I come next week instead? Is that okay?’ I spoke into his shoulder, his lean warmth reassuring for a moment. ‘You will be brilliant,’ I rattled on before he could answer. ‘Absolutely brilliant, I know. Break a leg and all that kind of stuff, yeah?’ Digby snuffled around my feet, scavenging for spilt crisps. ‘I’ll call you when I get to Cornwall.’

‘Maggie, please.’ Seb’s face was tense. ‘I really don’t think you should go now.’

‘I have to, Seb.’ I picked up my bag. ‘I need some time to clear my head.’

He didn’t know what to do. ‘I’ll walk you to your car,’ he said eventually.

‘No, please don’t. Stay here. Your friends need you.’ I kissed him on the lips quickly. I had to go; I couldn’t be sucked in. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly.’

‘Well –’ He held the ends of my scarf in both hands, loath to abandon responsibility. ‘You know, when you come back, I think maybe you should see someone. You know, to talk. I’ll get you some numbers, okay?’

‘Seb!’ I felt quite desperate to get out of the pub; away from the noise, the heat, the bustle and the smell of beer. The cheerful air that I could not absorb. I felt like a cardboard cut-out among these fleshy rounded mortals. Oh God. Gently I freed myself from his hold. ‘Are you saying you think I’m mad too?’ I tried to laugh, but his bony face was solemn.

‘No, of course not. But – I just wondered – you know, because of your mum –’

‘Seb! I’ve had one breakdown. I’m not going to have another.’

‘One breakdown?’ He stared at me. Like a stone flying from a kid’s catapult, my words hit their target. ‘When?’

‘Yes, one breakdown. In the summer, after the crash. Look, sorry, Seb, but I can’t do this now.’

‘Okay.’ He was flummoxed. ‘Just promise me you’ll drive carefully, babe.’

‘Of course I will.’ I tossed my scarf over one shoulder as if I were Amelia Earhart. Truly carefree.

‘And call me as soon as you get there, please.’ He rubbed his face wearily. ‘I feel really odd about this, babe. I wish I could come too.’

‘So do I.’ I smiled bleakly. ‘But you’re better off without me.’

‘Don’t say that. Look, Maggie, are you really sure you –’

‘I’ll ring you, okay?’ Before he dissuaded me I shot to the door, Digby trotting in my wake. I didn’t look round.