How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(67)

My stomach rolls over and I’m suddenly light-headed. Press conference. Fucking press conference. Someone is bound to say something about him talking to me. Charlie clearly senses a change in my energy.

‘I told you it wasn’t a good idea to go on there. Do you need anything? Another tea? One of your pills?’

‘Both, please. Thank you.’

As he heads off to get me my supplies, I take a deep breath and open Instagram. As expected, there is a huge number of messages that I can’t be bothered to go through. They’re from people asking me where I am and stuff. But there’s only one message I’m looking for. I’m not left disappointed when I spot it.

The twisted and ugly avatar.

The Creep.

With trembling hands, I open it.

‘Your time is running out. Make the most of your freedom.’ A grainy photo is attached. It’s me and Ruben, some time after leaving the club, in my car.

‘What do you want?’ I angrily type back, ignoring all the words from the police and victim support. But when I send the message the screen goes weird and tells me that this user does not exist. Charlie heads over with a mug of tea and two small pills I’ve been instructed to take when I’m overwhelmed. I could do with taking the whole box right now. He sits down next to me and gently takes the laptop from me, closing it.

‘That’s enough for now,’ he says.

He’s right, that’s totally enough internet for one day. My brain is already starting to spiral. I need to work out what this fucking stalker wants and how he seems to have constant access to me. I look at Charlie. Could it be him? Have I naively let my enemy into my life? I mean, he’s just literally admitted to a dark past. Even if it was a bit lame as ‘darkness’ goes. But what else could he be hiding? As his eyes meet mine, they soften and twinkle. Of course it’s not him. Anyway, one of the photos was of me and him so that wouldn’t make any sense.

‘Actually, Kitty, there’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about.’

Oh God. ‘Okay, what’s up?’

He takes a deep breath. ‘Okay, well, when I found you here and called the ambulance, I mean, even before that, really. When no one could get hold of you. I was so worried. I just wanted to see you. I didn’t care about any of the other stuff.’ He pauses and takes another deep breath. ‘Anyway, what I’m trying to say, in the clumsiest way possible, is that I missed you very much when you weren’t around. And that I love you. And, when you’re ready, which I know could be a while because you’re obviously going through something major here, I’m hoping that maybe we could try this relationship thing again.’ He’s looking down at his hands now. ‘What do you think?’

‘Charlie,’ I say. ‘I’m ready now. I don’t need to wait.’ I sit myself up properly and lean forwards. ‘I love you.’

He looks up at me and suddenly those dimples are back and it’s like the first time you get to sit outside in spring. ‘I love you too.’ He moves in closer, cups my face in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs, taking in my face (which still looks a miserable pale state, I’m sure) before kissing my mouth, softly as a feather.





57


KITTY’S APARTMENT, CHELSEA

Tor comes to visit the night after I get home from hospital. Charlie lets her in and she waves some flowers in his direction. I’m back on the sofa, Charlie still treating me like an invalid. She comes and wraps her arms around me. I bury my nose in her hair and breathe in her familiar, beautiful smell.

‘Hello you,’ she says. ‘You really know how to bring the drama, Kits, I’ll give you that.’ She sits down the bottom end of the sofa, near my feet. Charlie is hovering. Tor gives him a stern look.

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I’m just going to put these in water and then I’ll go for a walk.’

Tor smiles as he heads to the kitchen.

‘He’s a good one,’ she says and I have a warm sensation in my stomach, like it’s a freezing cold day and I’m eating soup. ‘Now, girlie, you need to talk to me about this situation here. What the hell happened? You know you can talk to me if you’re feeling low.’

‘I didn’t try to kill myself,’ I say for the millionth time. ‘Seriously. I was just trying to block some shit out and obviously took things a bit too far.’

‘A bit too far is throwing up outside a club. It is not going AWOL for a week and ending up in hospital having your stomach pumped. You’re lucky to be alive. And equally lucky not to have been sectioned.’ She reaches for my hands. ‘Whatever is bothering you, you need to let it go. Try this with me. Actually, let’s go out on the balcony. Be at one with nature.’ I puzzle at how ‘at one’ we can be at nature on the tenth floor of an apartment block in the middle of one of the most over-populated cities in the world. But I go with it.

She leads me outside, arranges herself cross-legged on the Maze sofa and reaches for my hands. ‘Now close your eyes and take a deep breath.’

I do as she says.

‘Now let it out slowly to the count of eight and imagine yourself in a bubble of shining white light.’

I roll my eyes under my lids, but try to picture myself in a bubble anyway.

‘Now imagine a cord linking you to whatever is bothering you. Keep breathing deeply.’