Because She Loves Me (24 page)

I rejoined the others at the table.

‘Are you OK?’ Tilly asked, a concerned expression on her face.

‘Yeah. I’m good. I just – I don’t know. It’s not just Karen. So much stuff has happened recently. I think it all just hit me at once.’

‘What else has happened?’ Tilly asked. ‘Apart from your accident.’

‘Accident?’ Henry asked.

I told them everything. Falling – or being pushed – down the steps at the Tube station. My new job being scuppered when Victor was arrested for being a paedophile. The weird stuff with Sasha and Lance and the ‘You’re Dead’ text. How I was sure I’d been followed, as had Charlie, and the guy staring at me in the cafe that afternoon. Charlie losing the bag of mementoes.

‘Even my cleaner,’ I said, remembering. ‘She was attacked in the street – someone threw acid in her face.’

‘What, the really pretty one you told me about?’ Tilly said.

‘Yes. Now this, with Karen.’

Henry had been watching me solemnly through the whole tale. Now he nodded. ‘It sounds like that neighbour was right. Something has attached itself to you.’

‘Henry,’ I said. ‘With all due respect, that’s bullshit. I really don’t believe in all that stuff.’

‘Then how else do you explain it?’ he asked, pointing at me with his fork.

‘It’s just bad luck.’

Tilly seemed far less bright than she had before my laughing-crying fit. ‘That’s a lot of bad luck, Andrew, for one person.’

‘Maybe. But I’ve always had bad luck. Right back to Mum and Dad . . . And my detached retina last year.’

‘Perhaps it’s a curse,’ Henry said seriously. ‘You haven’t crossed any gypsies, have you?’

I spluttered. ‘Please. You’ll set me off again.’

The waiter brought the dessert menu to the table. I didn’t want anything. All I wanted was to get drunk, and I downed my third large glass of red wine.

‘So,’ Henry said, after he’d ordered key lime pie with cream
and
ice cream. ‘All this stuff that’s happened – is it since you’ve met your bird? This Charlie chick.’

‘You think she might have something to do with it?’ Rachel said to Henry. As our designated driver, she was stone-cold sober.

He shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘I don’t know the girl. But it seems like a lot of this stuff has happened since Andrew met her.’ He addressed me. ‘If you don’t believe in spirits and curses, there are only two possible reasons: one is sheer chance, or bad luck as you say. The other is that someone is behind it.’

‘That’s even more ridiculous than blaming a gypsy curse or an evil spirit,’ I said.

But even as I said the words, I felt something crawl beneath my skin, an itch in my head, like the questions that had darted around my head since I’d heard about Karen’s death were trying to connect, to knit together.

Henry took a big mouthful of lager, then shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, maybe. It does seem pretty crazy, doesn’t it? I mean, the amount of planning, the level of obsession required to do all the stuff you list . . . Fuck, you’d have to be some kind of maniac. Clever too.’

‘And why would she do it?’ Rachel said.

Henry’s dessert came and he shovelled it in, thinking while he
che
wed. ‘I don’t know. Because she wants him all for herself? Look at the people who’ve been affected: a woman he used to shag, his best friend who happens to be female, a cleaner who was apparently a real fittie before she got acid chucked in her face. Then two things have happened to stop Andrew starting his new job, where he’d be working with other women. A bag full of pictures of all his exes goes conveniently lost. Fuck, the more I think about it, the more likely it seems!’

A cold, clammy sweat had broken out across my body. I stared at Henry. He didn’t even know about the other stuff: Harriet being burgled and presents I’d given her stolen; my female friends vanishing from Facebook; my book containing nude photos going missing.

‘Is she the jealous type, this Charlie?’ Henry asked.

Before I could make my mouth work – and I was going to lie, say no, because I didn’t want to tell them – Tilly banged the table and said, ‘For fuck’s sake, this is insane!’

We all looked at her.

‘Charlie’s lovely. She’s sweet and funny and cool and she’s completely besotted with you, Andrew. To say she could be responsible for all the stuff that’s happened to you – all this random, unconnected stuff – it’s bullshit, like the ramblings of an insane conspiracy theorist. What are you going to say next, that she somehow caused your retina to detach last year?’

I shook my head weakly in the face of Tilly’s fury.

‘It’s bad luck, that’s all. The world throwing shit at you. That’s what happens in life. We had a huge pile of shit thrown at us when we were kids, killing our parents and landing me in this fucking wheelchair. And now life’s chucking crap at lots of people you know. I mean, fuck, it’s actually pretty egocentric to think it’s all down to you. The only thing that’s happened to you directly is that you slipped down some icy steps and, from what you’ve told me, Charlie was there afterwards to look after you.’ She was red in the face. ‘My God, if Charlie could hear all of this. You should be ashamed of yourself.’

I think I must have been red in the face too, but from embarrassment, not anger.

‘Well,’ said Henry, puncturing the silence that followed, moments after swallowing the last piece of pie. ‘That told us.’

Twenty-eight

‘
Where have you been?’

Charlie was waiting for me when I got home, curled up on the sofa, the TV on with the volume muted. She sounded like she was trying hard to keep her voice even.

I was drunk, hardly able to walk in a straight line, especially with my sore leg. All I wanted to do was go to bed and not think or talk about anything. So my voice came out harsher than I intended. ‘I was with my sister. Didn’t you get my text?’

‘No. I’ve been trying to call you all evening. I was worried sick.’

I examined my phone. The text I’d sent Charlie had an exclamation mark beside it, meaning it hadn’t sent.

‘Twenty-three missed calls?’ I said. ‘That’s a bit fucking excessive, isn’t it? I’m going to bed.’

She stared at me with wide eyes, as silent as the TV.

A while later, I felt her crawl into bed beside me, then put her arm around me, nestling against my naked back. She stroked my chest, moved her hand down to my belly, but when I didn’t respond she gave up and soon the pattern of her breathing changed.

Even though I was drunk and exhausted, I couldn’t sleep, was unable to get the conversation with Tilly, Rachel and Henry out of my head. I had decided, perhaps because it was what I wanted to believe, that Tilly was right. To blame Charlie for all the weird stuff that had happened lately was like embracing a crazy conspiracy theory. Everything had a logical explanation. Charlie hadn’t been anywhere near me when I’d slipped down the steps. Sasha’s problems were almost certainly down to her affair with Lance. Kristi had either been targeted by a random nutter or attacked by a spurned boyfriend. None of it could be connected.

I felt terrible. I had been horrible to Charlie when I’d got home. She didn’t deserve it. I wriggled around, put my arms round her and kissed her. She stirred and I whispered that I loved her. Her lips twitched into a smile and pretty soon I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke early and made Charlie breakfast, taking it to her in bed. Scrambled eggs on toast, coffee, a note telling her how much I loved her.

‘What’s all this for?’ she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

‘I was a dickhead last night. This is my attempt at saying sorry.’

‘It’s OK. But you should have let me know where you were.’

‘I know. I didn’t realise my text didn’t send.’

‘All right. But I was worried. And I wanted to see you. You know I’m going away on my course today?’

I frowned. The course was in Newcastle and I wouldn’t see her for four days. But when she got back, she’d be moving in.

‘I’ll sort the flat out while you’re away,’ I said. ‘Make room for your stuff.’

She gave me her sweetest smile. ‘I can’t wait. But you don’t have to. I don’t have much stuff. A lot of it is here already.’

As she ate her breakfast, I told her about my visit to Victor’s office and about Karen, which made her gasp. I told her about the old man, too, but left out the part about the dark spirit. I would tell her another time, when I was able to turn it into a joke. I had thought I’d be able to do that already, but as I opened my mouth to talk about it I went cold and the joke died in my throat.

‘Oh, how did the session go with the therapist?’ I asked. The first one had been the evening before.

‘It was fine.’ She paused. ‘I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s private. But I think it’s going to help. Actually, I think it’s helping already. Like, last night . . . I didn’t accuse you of being with another woman, did I?’

‘No.’

She was quiet for a moment. ‘You weren’t, were you?’

‘Of course—’

‘I’m joking, Andrew. And by the way, I got your Facebook friend request.’

‘I was going to ask you about that.’

‘I’m really sorry. It’s just that I knew that you would want us to be friends on there if you knew I had an account, but I think it’s silly. I mean, why do we have to communicate online when we can do it in the flesh? I know couples who talk to each other more on Facebook than they do verbally. It’s stupid. I don’t want us to be like that. I want our relationship to be special. Does that make sense?’

‘I think so. Charlie . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘You haven’t ever . . . been on my Facebook account on my computer . . .’

She interrupted. ‘No, of course not. What are you talking about?’

‘Nothing. Just being an idiot.’

The women who unfriended me on Facebook must have done it themselves. Maybe they were tired of reading about my new girlfriend and my leg injury. I had been pretty boring on there recently, I had to admit.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ I said a bit later, as she stood in the doorway with her little suitcase.

We hugged and kissed. I had tears in my eyes.

‘It’s only a few days, silly,’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘And when I get back—’

‘We’ll be living together.’

She kissed me and ran her hand over my chest. ‘How am I going to get through four days without your body?’

‘I don’t want you to go, Charlie.’

She laughed. ‘Oh God, look at us. Lovesick before we’ve even parted.’ She gave me the naughty look I liked so much. ‘But our reunion will be fun.’

I went downstairs with her and waved her off. I watched her walk along the road, her black coat flapping about her, red hair whipped by the breeze. She turned and blew me a kiss. She was lovely. How could I ever have doubted her?

My mobile rang as I was going up the stairs.

‘All right, mate?’

‘Victor!’ I was lost for words temporarily. ‘How are you?’

He made a familiar groaning noise. ‘A lot fucking better than I have been. I’m in Brixton at the moment. That’s near you, isn’t it? Fancy meeting for a coffee? Oh, and by the way, I’m not a fucking paedophile.’

We met at a coffee shop in the market and as I approached the table Victor stood and gave me a bear hug. His eyes were moist and he smelled of cigarette smoke.

‘You OK?’ I asked. I had never known him to be tactile before and was sure he didn’t smoke.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Do I smell of fags?’

I nodded.

‘I need to quit again. You know, I hadn’t even thought about smoking for ten years. Then as soon as all this shit kicked off, the only way I could get through it was by chain smoking.’ He drummed his fingers on the big wooden table. He was all nervous energy, twitches and tics. ‘I got a call from the police this morning. They’re dropping all charges.’

‘Oh, that’s brilliant.’

‘Isn’t it? Though they shouldn’t have charged me in the first place. I mean, me, a paedo! I’m the kind of bloke who thinks people like that should be strung up by their bollocks in public. The thought of it . . . Jesus.’

‘So – what happened?’

He blew on his coffee. ‘The police don’t know who’s behind it, but someone set that site up to stitch me up. This whole thing about me going to meet a young girl . . . I’ll tell you what happened.’

I waited while he pulled the words together in his head.

‘So, a few days before this all kicked off, I had this weird friend request on Facebook. Someone called Sarah Smith. Middle-aged, quite attractive, same age as me. I thought it must be some old classmate I don’t remember and accepted it. Didn’t think nothing of it.

‘Then I started getting messages from her, saying I looked really fit in my pictures.’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘So I made the mistake of responding, didn’t I? Flirting. I mean, I thought it was just a bit of harmless fun. I wasn’t going to
do
anything.’ He sighed. ‘
Then
she suggested meeting up and I said yes.’ He pulled a face. ‘That’s the bit my missus is upset about. But I really wasn’t intending to do anything. I was just, I don’t know, curious.’

He fiddled with a cigarette packet as he spoke, turning it over and round in his hands, picking at the edges, the gruesome image of a man with a throat tumour rotating in front of my eyes.

‘Except she didn’t turn up, which to be honest was a massive relief. I went home and the next day the police turn up and show me that website. They’ve got all these screenshots from Facebook—’

‘I’ve seen it,’ I said.

‘I thought you might have. But the screenshots were Photoshopped and Sarah Smith’s profile was changed to that of a twelve-year-old girl. Same profile but new photo, new age, new everything. And there were photos of me at the meeting point, lurking about looking shifty. Someone must have been taking pictures of me with a long-lens camera.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, the police tracked down the IP address of this Sarah Smith, who was obviously a made-up person, to an internet cafe here in Brixton. No CCTV or anything, though, not that the police are really that interested.’

‘Is that why you’re here?’

He nodded. ‘I wanted to check the place out. See if I saw anyone I recognised. But no joy, just a load of students.’

‘What about the images on your computer?’

He rubbed his face. ‘Christ. The police showed me the pictures. I’m never going to get over it, mate. Little kids . . . Actually, I can’t even talk about it. Heartbreaking stuff. The kind of stuff that makes you want to seriously hurt the people responsible.’

‘I don’t even want to imagine it.’

‘Vile stuff. Anyway, the police accept that they have no evidence that it was me who downloaded the pictures. Loads of people have access to my computer – the cleaners, the IT department. Plus we had a break-in a few days before this all happened. I didn’t report it because nothing got nicked and I didn’t want the hassle. So the police thought I was lying at first.’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, my lawyer was able to persuade them they didn’t have a leg to stand on and they’ve finally dropped the case.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘Too right. Come on, let’s go outside. I need one of these.’

We stood outside in the cold and he lit up. ‘I’ll quit soon. Maybe I should try one of those e-cigarettes. Anyway, there are two thi
ngs I
need to talk to you about. The first one is the job. I’m really sorry, mate, but business is pretty bad at the moment. Emma and the others did their best while I was away but there are a lot of twats out there who decided they didn’t want to do business with us anymore. Now I’ve been cleared I’m hoping they’ll come crawling back. But in the meantime, I can’t afford to take anyone on. I feel crap about it, but . . .’

‘It’s fine.’ I tried not to show my disappointment. ‘I’m just happy the mess is being sorted. What was the second thing?’

He blew out smoke and squinted at me. ‘Have you . . . heard about Karen?’

I stared at the ground. ‘Yes. Awful. Do you know how it happened?’

‘It was a heroin overdose.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah. I heard from her sister, Violet, who’s a friend of the missus. They had the coroner’s report yesterday. Heroin. I can’t believe Karen was into that shit.’

I couldn’t either. ‘She wasn’t into drugs when I was with her. The odd spliff. We took E together once because she’d heard it was meant to be an amazing experience. But heroin?’

‘I know. I spoke to her a few weeks ago, just before all this paedo crap happened. God, that seems like a long time ago now. We mainly talked about me but I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think if she seemed different in any way. Like I’d be able to tell. Most drug users function pretty normally, especially early on.’ He tutted. ‘We talked about you a bit. She told me she was really happy with the work you did for her, in the end anyway. She thought it was a bit weird though.’