The Flatshare(69)

Justin: I’ll be back to see Tiffy.

He backs out.

Me: Maybe call ahead next time to check she’s in. And wants to see you.

Slam the door behind him.





49


Tiffy

I mean, nobody would say it’s nice, having your ex-boyfriend turn up as you’re getting with the new guy. Nobody would wish for something like that to happen, except perhaps for weird sexual reasons.

But surely nobody else would be quite this upset.

I am shaking – not just my hands, but my legs too, all the way up past my knees. I try to dress as quietly as I can, paralysed with the thought of Justin coming in here and seeing me in just my knickers, but I only get halfway before the fear of being heard overrules that impulse, and I sink back on to the bed in just my underwear and a giant jumper with Santa on it (it was the closest thing in the wardrobe).

When the door to the flat slams, I jump as though someone’s pulled a trigger. It’s ridiculous. My face is wet with tears and I am really, truly scared.

Leon knocks gently on the bedroom door.

‘It’s just me,’ he calls. ‘Can I come in?’

I take a deep, wobbly breath and wipe the tears from my cheeks. ‘Yeah, come in.’

He takes one look at me and does what I did – heads for the wardrobe and pulls out the nearest thing. Once he’s dressed, he comes and sits on the far end of the bed. I’m grateful. Suddenly I don’t want to be near anybody naked.

‘Is he definitely gone?’ I ask him.

‘I waited until I heard the building door close too,’ Leon tells me. ‘He’s gone.’

‘He’ll be back, though. And I cannot face the idea of ever seeing him again. I can’t . . . I hate him.’ I take another deep, juddering breath, feeling tears leaking out again. ‘Why was he so angry? Was he always like that, and I’ve just forgotten?’

I stretch out a hand towards Leon; I want to be held. He shifts across the bed and pulls me in against him, laying me down so he’s behind me, my body tucked into his.

‘He can feel he’s losing his grip on you,’ Leon says quietly. ‘He’s scared.’

‘Well, I’m not going back this time.’

Leon kisses my shoulder. ‘You want me to call Mo? Or Gerty?’

‘Will you just stay with me?’

‘Of course.’

‘I just want to go to sleep.’

‘Then sleep it is.’ He reaches around for the Brixton blanket, pulling it over the two of us, and then leans to flick off the lamp. ‘Wake me if you need me.’

*

I don’t know how, but I sleep all the way through, only waking to the sound of the guy upstairs doing whatever it is he always does at 7 a.m. (it sounds like some kind of energetic aerobics involving lots of hopping; I’d be angry, but it is much better than my alarm for waking me up for work).

Leon is gone. I sit up, bleary-eyed from falling asleep after crying, and try to get a handle on reality again. Just as I’m working my way through yesterday – sadly finishing up with the good sofa bit, and remembering Justin’s arrival – Leon pokes his head in.

‘Tea?’

‘Did you make it?’

‘No, I got the house elf to do it.’

I smile at that.

‘Don’t worry. I told him to make yours especially strong,’ he says. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Of course you can. It’s your bedroom too.’

‘Not when you’re here.’ He hands me a suitably strong cup of tea. This is the first cup of tea he’s ever made me, but – just like I know how milky he likes his – he must’ve figured out how I drink mine. It’s weird how easily you can get to know someone from the traces they leave behind.

‘I’m so sorry about last night,’ I begin.

Leon shakes his head. ‘Please don’t. It’s not your fault, is it?’

‘Well. I did date him. Voluntarily.’

My tone’s light, but Leon frowns. ‘Relationships like that stop being about “voluntarily” very quickly. There’s lots of ways someone can make you stay with them, or think you want to.’

I tilt my head, looking at him as he sits on the edge of the bed, forearms on his knees, both hands around his mug of tea. He’s talking to me half over his shoulder, and every time he meets my eyes I want to smile. He’s redone his hair – it’s the neatest I’ve ever seen it, smoothed behind his ears and flicking into curls at the base of his neck.

‘You seem very well informed,’ I say carefully.

He’s not looking at me now. ‘Mam,’ he says by way of explanation. ‘She spent a lot of her time with men who abused her.’

The word makes me flinch. Leon clocks it.

‘Sorry,’ he says.

‘Justin never hit me or anything,’ I say quickly, my cheeks flushing. Here’s me, making a fuss about a boyfriend who bosses me about a bit, when Leon’s mum has been through— ‘That’s not the sort of abuse I meant,’ Leon says. ‘I meant emotional.’

‘Oh.’ Was that what it was, with Justin?

Yes, I think immediately, before I have time to second guess myself. Of course it bloody was. Lucie and Mo and Gerty have all been saying as much without saying it for months, haven’t they? I swallow a gulp of tea, hiding behind my mug.