Just Like the Other Girls(21)

I open my sash window a fraction so that I can hear, cringing when the hinges screech, hoping they haven’t heard and can’t see me.

‘I don’t want to discuss it any more.’ Elspeth’s angry voice drifts up to me.

Lewis says something but his voice is too deep and indecipherable.

‘I think you’d better leave. I have nothing more to say on the matter. I’m not interested.’

Now it sounds like Lewis is pleading with her. What’s going on? Is she sacking him?

‘I’ve said no,’ she snaps, turning on her heel towards the French windows to the kitchen. I hear them slam behind her. Lewis stands there for a few seconds. I wish I could see his expression, but his features are obscured by shadows. Then he thrusts his hands into his pockets and walks around the side of the house. I dart across my sitting area and around my bed to look out of the other window, which has the view of the suspension bridge. I watch and wait and, sure enough, Lewis emerges from the side of the house, trudging through the front garden, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. At the gate he stops and looks up at the house, unsmiling. I can’t read his expression – not angry as such, more resigned maybe. I don’t know if he can see me so I wave but I don’t think he notices as he dips his head and lets himself out of the gate. I watch as he continues down the street until he’s out of sight. I find myself feeling heavy with disappointment that I may not see him again.

The pub is already packed when I get there, despite it being a Wednesday evening. The band haven’t started playing yet, and as soon as I walk in I spot Vince at the bar with Kris and Dexter. My stomach flips at the sight of him. I was hoping that the month apart would have lessened my attraction to him but, if anything, it’s stronger. He is wearing a black leather jacket, his dirty-blond hair touching his collar. I can only see his face in profile, that chiselled jaw. My queasiness returns. I’m not ready to see him. It brings it all back. My mum’s death, the aftermath, that hideous Christmas and then our argument on New Year’s Eve. I suddenly feel too hot in my coat. Just as I’m about to turn around and leave, Courtney weaves towards me with a pint in her hand. ‘You made it!’ she says, coming over to hug me and sloshing beer onto the floor in the process.

I grimace. ‘I nearly bolted.’

She links her arm through mine and guides me into the pub. ‘Come on, you need to break the ice with him.’

‘He owes me five grand,’ I say, through clenched teeth. Not to mention the other thing he did. The thing I’ve not been able to admit to anyone, even Courtney.

‘I know. He says he’s got some money to give you.’

About time. It’s only taken him a month.

She leads me towards Vince. When he spots me our eyes lock and his cheeks redden. He steps forwards, his face serious. ‘Hi.’

‘All right,’ I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

The bar is busy, and with the cacophony of voices, the dull thrum of the background music and the chink of glasses, it’s hard to have a proper conversation. He leans towards me and I get a whiff of his scent mixed with tobacco. ‘Do you want to go outside? We need to talk.’

‘We haven’t got anything to talk about,’ I reply. ‘Let’s not drag it all up again.’

His eyes burn with disappointment. ‘You’re a tough nut to crack.’ He smiles briefly, but it’s tinged with sadness.

I have to stay firm, resolute. I can’t let him sweet-talk his way out of what he did. ‘You still owe me five grand.’

‘I know.’ He reaches inside his leather jacket and hands me a cheque. ‘It’s only five hundred pounds. But I will pay you back. All of it.’

I take the cheque. ‘It’d better not bounce.’

‘It won’t.’ He hesitates. ‘How have you been?’

‘Fine,’ I lie.

‘I’ve thought about you a lot. I keep thinking about your mum too …’

I stiffen. I don’t want to talk about her with him. It’s too soon. Otherwise I’ll start crying here in the pub, surrounded by people I haven’t seen for over a month.

‘I should have been there for you.’ When I don’t say anything he adds, ‘We had such a great two years, but your mum dying … well, that was hard on our relationship … and what I did …’

How dare he? I feel a sudden flash of anger. ‘No. Not because my mum died. Because you lied. Because you cheated me out of five thousand pounds, you fucker. That’s why we ended.’ I push him in the chest, hard. I only come up to his shoulder but he still stumbles backwards.

He steadies himself, his face shocked. I hardly ever lose my temper. Placid Una. A walkover. But not any more. A few people at the bar turn to stare at us. ‘Jesus, Una. Calm down.’

‘What are you going to do? Grab me around the throat,’ I lower my voice so that it’s more of a hiss, ‘like before?’

His face goes grey and when he speaks it’s more of a whisper. ‘I’m … I’ll never forgive myself for that.’

I take a deep breath. I will not lose control in front of him again. I won’t show him how much he frightened me that day. How I really thought he was going to hurt me. I didn’t think he was capable of that kind of anger. ‘Look,’ I say, trying to keep my voice even, ‘it doesn’t matter. Not any more. I just want my money back.’