The Perfect Girlfriend(78)

‘Now, darling,’ I say to Nate with a smile. ‘All you have to do, it’s very simple, is watch the recording at least three times.’

He needs to fully understand and appreciate the aftermath. And hear how I sent him an email to which he never responded. The morning-after pill. The worry of sexually transmitted diseases when I plucked up the courage to visit a clinic in the summer holidays. On my own. And how much he hurt me.

‘I’ve already got the gist of it. But, if I agree to your demands, you’ll let me go?’

‘Maybe. If you comply totally. But, if you make a huge fuss, or persist in making too much noise, then the whole process will take longer. It’s your choice.’

‘I don’t want a maybe. Look, please let’s just sort this out. I . . . It’s the middle of the night.’

I ignore him, just like he has me so many times. ‘I’d also appreciate it if you could go through the photos again and take the time to study each one carefully, to remember how happy we were. I will ask you questions to check your thoroughness.’

‘I’ve said I’m willing to sort this out.’

I smile. ‘How does it feel, darling, to be ignored?’

He goes quiet.

‘Not very nice, is it?’ I say.

He doesn’t answer.

‘Is it?’

‘No, it’s not nice,’ he is forced to agree. ‘I’ll watch it, I’ll watch it all, so you can un-cuff me, please.’

I pick up my bag and remove my final item – a framed wedding picture of us – and I place it on the window sill. Hoisting my rucksack over my shoulder, I turn to leave. As I stand at the door, I take out the handcuff keys.

‘Remember, Nate. The choice is yours. You can leave here sooner, or later.’

I chuck the keys over to him and shut the door behind me, wiping my prints off the handle with an anti-bacterial wipe.

Two minutes later, he is banging on the door. It is thunderingly loud. I hold my breath. He kicks it several times before it goes quiet.

‘Nate, if you continue to try kicking down this door, the consequences will be a lot worse. From now on, for every attempt you make, I will add a full hour on to the time that you will spend in there. And, once you’re finished with the film, there’s a page I’ve bookmarked for you to read. It’s about the serious consequences of sleeping with a girl under the age of consent. Especially when the other person involved is over eighteen. There’s no way you’d pass your next criminal record check if I report this to the police. So, unless you’ve already got ideas for an alternative career, particularly one where they don’t mind people who are on the Sex Offenders Register, I suggest you keep quiet and get on with the very simple thing I’ve asked of you.’

Silence. That shut him up.

Hopefully, after his initial lacklustre approach, he’s going to knuckle down and take things a bit more seriously. I settle down on the sofa with a cushion for a pillow and prepare for a doze. Although I drift in and out, my dreams are disturbing and keep jolting me into full consciousness. When light seeps into the room, I get up as my back has started to ache. I make myself a coffee. I nurse it, allowing the warmth to seep through my fingers and the rising steam to brush my face. I yawn. I go and listen outside Nate’s door.

Blessed silence.

I’m due to fly to Rome and back today as an extra crew member, checking to see whether recent safety standards are being adhered to in the galley areas. I was going to call in sick but, thinking about it, I may as well go. I’ll be back late this afternoon and it will allow plenty of time for Nate to think. It’s quite dull being a jailer, there really isn’t that much to it.

I knock on the door. ‘How’s it going?’ I call out.

‘Almost done,’ he yells back.

‘Liar! The film is nearly two hours long. Remember, you have to watch it three times. Otherwise it’s your time you’re wasting, because you won’t pass the test.’

He mutters something indecipherable.

I decide against mentioning my outing; there’s no point in worrying him. I wipe the handle clean from my fingerprints one more time, as an extra precaution, and I leave his phone – switched off – on the coffee table in the living room.

I walk back home, feeling surprisingly awake. The snowfall wasn’t very heavy; only slight, scattered patches of white remain. I put on my uniform, ripping the first pair of tights I slide on, so I have to take out another pair from the wrapping. I must spend a fortune on hosiery. I clip my ID on to my jacket beneath my name badge and pack my flat shoes into my wheelie bag.

Before I drive off, I look up at Nate’s. There is no outward sign that there is anything untoward occurring inside.





27


At work, in the safety ambassador’s office, I pretend to prepare everything necessary for me to get through the day whilst I surreptitiously check on Amy’s roster, out of curiosity. She has been grounded due to pregnancy! I double-check, but there is no mistake. She has been allocated a position in staff travel. I check out her Facebook page. Nothing. She must be in the early stages.

I have twenty minutes remaining before I need to go airside, so I take the lift to staff travel. Amy is behind a counter, tapping at a screen. As I walk over, she looks up, a ready smile on her face, which quickly drops as I come into her line of vision.