One Small Mistake(14)
‘Elodie …’
‘The other night, he followed me home.’
She pales. ‘He knows where you live? He’s been to your house?’
My delight at having derailed the previous conversation starts seeping away at the concern that thickens her voice.
‘Elodie, have you called the police?’
And just like that, the thrill is whipped from beneath my feet. I expected her to laugh it off, tell me this guy was odd, but it was nothing to dwell on; instead, she’s reacting with the same worry as Jack.
‘I mean, calling the police seems dramatic. He hasn’t actually hurt me, has he? He hasn’t even tried to talk to me.’
‘You still need to call them.’
I roll my eyes like it’s no big deal. ‘He probably just has a crush.’
‘Crushes slip love letters in your bag or buy you a coffee – they don’t follow you home. That isn’t normal.’
‘Love letters in your bag?’ I try to lighten the mood. ‘I didn’t realise we’d fallen through a crack in time and landed in the 1930s.’
‘I’m worried.’
‘I’m not,’ I quickly lie because Margot’s reaction has brought all my fears rushing up to the surface, like dirt dredged up from the bottom of a pond.
‘You live alone.’
‘Thanks?’
She sighs impatiently. ‘I mean, you’re vulnerable because you live by yourself. What if he breaks in?’
I sip my drink, playing for time. This is a thought that keeps me up at night, wide-eyed and jumping at every little noise in the house; pipes creak overhead and it’s him scuttling around the attic; the window rattles in its frame and it’s him trying to shake it open; the fridge drones and it’s him humming as he climbs the stairs. ‘That’s ridiculous. Besides, I’m not alone. Jack comes over most nights.’
‘Does he know about the stalker?’
I nod. ‘He basically let me move in for a while after I was followed home. He wanted me to stay longer but I really don’t think I’m in danger.’
This seems to ease her worry. ‘Jack will take care of you.’
‘He always does.’
‘Jack,’ she says, rolling his name around on her tongue like a sugared cherry. ‘And how is Jack?’
I smile, relieved we’ve moved on. ‘Fine.’
‘I still can’t believe you two have never done it.’
‘I’ve told you before, he’s like a brother and even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t do relationships. I don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost.’ Not wanting to encourage her, I’ve never admitted that as a teenager I was completely in love with him, but after one kiss which ended horribly, I was forced to adopt a different kind of love. ‘I don’t want sex to ruin our friendship.’
‘If sex ruins a situation, you’re doing it wrong.’
I laugh.
‘I just think you need more time,’ she offers, referring to Noah.
Desperate not to talk about him and sink into a misery hole, I look away. She takes the hint.
‘Anyway,’ she says, brightening, ‘if you don’t want Jack, can I play with him?’
‘Absolutely not.’
She smiles. ‘Fine, keep him. You’ve ruined him for the rest of us anyway.’
‘Aren’t you monogamous now?’
Her dark eyes glitter. ‘Monogamous, not dead.’
The waiter comes over and we order another round of drinks. Margot reads through the menu, trying to decide. She looks happy. Like there’s a light beneath her skin, giving her an ethereal glow. I’m about to ask what her new skincare regime is but then I remember the answer is probably just: ‘I’m in love and living with my boyfriend and having tons of hot, sweaty orgasms.’ And no matter how much money is in your account, you can’t buy that and rub it on your face. Not even from Space NK.
‘How’s Gabriel?’ I ask.
Her smile is wide, the way it always is when he’s mentioned. ‘He’s back from Paris tonight. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed him so much.’
I smile back, happy she’s happy. February last year, with the champagne gold of the winter sun spiralling in through the high arched windows of her apartment, she said, ‘Elodie, I’ve fallen for him. I think I’m in love.’ She stressed the word like it was woven by magic, but I’d heard it a thousand times before; Margot changed her lovers as often as she changed her underwear. Give it a few more weeks and she’d be over him and under someone else.
That was almost sixteen months ago.
‘Sure you don’t want to exchange him for Jack?’ I tease.
‘We’ll see.’
The waiter returns with our drinks order. When he’s gone, she says, ‘I actually have some news.’
I’m at the age now where this statement usually means one of two things. I glance down at her left hand but there’s no shiny engagement ring there. Then my eyes flicker to her stomach and I wonder if she’s pregnant.
‘I’ve got a book deal!’
Chapter Four
26 Days Before
Elodie Fray
I blink. What the actual fuck? I stare at Margot, trying to work out if this is a joke. Or a nightmare. Around us, conversations rise and fall, a couple nearby clink their glasses and a woman on the table next to us is laughing, squealing like a pig. ‘But you’re a wedding planner.’