‘And the truth is, I don’t even fancy her.’
‘You did well, then, you know, to sleep with someone you didn’t fancy.’
‘You’ve never had an anger shag?’
She nearly turned to him then. ‘A what?’
‘I was angry with you. I was doing anything I could to get you out of my head. You’re in my head, Zoë. I can’t get you out. I wish I could, but I can’t.’
‘Sorry I’m not more impressed.’ She shook her head. Her neck was stiff and painful. As if she had a fever. ‘It’s just if I was fixated on someone the last thing I could do is sleep with someone else.’
‘Well, I’m a man and you’re a woman. So maybe you wouldn’t understand. And how the hell would you know what you could and couldn’t do? You’ve never been fixated on anyone in your life.’
She was silent, her teeth clenched so tight she thought they might crack. ‘Have you finished now?’ she murmured eventually.
‘Look at me, Zoë.’ He sat down opposite her.
She twisted her head further away, bent it slightly and pretended to be scratching her scalp.
‘Just look at me. Is that so difficult? Come on.’ He reached out and took her arm. She snatched it away, but he leaned forward and grabbed it again, this time brushing against the sunglasses, knocking them slightly. She fumbled up her free hand to push them back on, but he’d already seen. He sat back on the chair, the air knocked out of him. ‘Jesus. What the hell?’
‘Shit, Ben.’ She sat with her head lowered, pressing the glasses against her face. ‘I mean, shit, I asked you not to come in.’
‘What the fuck happened to you?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Really – it doesn’t matter.’
He slammed his hands on the table and stood up so he was towering above her. ‘Yes, it does matter, Zoë. It does matter. I am allowed to give a toss about you. Handcuff me, read me my rights, but I do.’
She could feel herself trembling – could feel a cold, hard ball of something ease its way into her throat. ‘There’s no need to be like that,’ she said evenly.
‘Just tell me. Who did it? Where did you report it?’
‘I haven’t,’ she mumbled.
‘What?’
‘I said I haven’t reported it. OK?’ She sat back a bit, rubbing her arms, embarrassed. She was going to end up crying again if she wasn’t careful. ‘And I’m not going to. I keep saying it doesn’t matter. Please leave it.’
Ben was silent for a long time. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’m going to report it.’ He was jabbing in a number. ‘Whoever did that needs to be spoken to.’
‘No.’ She made a lunge for the phone, throwing herself across the table.
He twisted away, holding it out of her reach. ‘Then tell me who did it. Or I report it.’
‘Please, Ben.’ She was definitely going to cry now. ‘Jesus. Just – please.’ She pushed her chair back with a squeal and stood up. Everything was spiralling away, getting out of control. ‘Just please, please—’
‘Please what?’
‘Just please don’t,’ she begged. ‘Don’t call anyone.’
Chapter 37
Sally felt like a wire stretched to its limit. She was shaking with tension and her jaw kept clicking as she drove, as if she was cold. The dark clouds had got even lower and were leaching a fine, almost invisible drizzle, but the lights were on in the windows when she arrived at the school, fighting the oncoming gloom. It looked so homely, the school, so normal that her throat tightened. That normality – the simple, unremarkable fact of doors closed, lights on, coats hanging on hooks and hockey boots lying in muddy heaps – all of that might never come back to her. She might have stepped out of its reach for ever.
She phoned and managed to catch Millie on her afternoon break. She said she could sneak out for a few minutes – no one would notice. Sally waited at the gate, clutching her umbrella. She couldn’t help checking around the street to make sure no one was watching her. She wasn’t good at hiding things – she didn’t know how people did it.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Millie’s expression was bright. But when she saw her mother’s face the smile dropped. ‘Oh. Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. Are you?’
‘No, you’re not. What’s up?’
‘Nothing.’ She ran her eyes over her daughter’s face and hair. She wanted to hold her so much. She wanted to just grab her and carry her somewhere far away from here. She swallowed hard, and said conversationally, ‘How did the test go?’
‘Oh, pants. I revised the wrong page. Doh …’
‘You’ve got prep after school tonight, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. Till five. Why?’
‘Because I don’t want you going home on your own tonight. I’m going to call Dad, get him to pick you up.’
‘He can’t. He’s in London.’
‘Then Isabelle.’
‘She’s at that gymnastics meet with Sophie. In Liverpool. It’s OK, Mum – I’ll get the bus. Don’t worry about me, I’ll—’
‘No! For heaven’s sake, will you listen to me? I’ve just told you – you’re not going home on your own.’
Millie blinked at her, shocked. Neither of them spoke for a moment, embarrassed by Sally’s sudden outburst. From the other side of the wall came the shrieks and yells of the other kids. They all believed they were grown-up, Sally thought, that they knew what they were doing – but they weren’t and they didn’t. Really and truly they were still babies. A car went by suddenly, its brakes screeching, and she jumped as if she’d been shot.
‘Mum?’ Millie frowned, her face curious. Suspicious. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Then you pick me up after school, if you’re so worried. Don’t you finish work early today? You usually do.’
‘I’m not going to work. I’m busy.’
‘Busy? Busy doing what?’
‘It doesn’t matter what.’ She put a hand to her head and pressed hard. She thought of Peter Cyrus’s mother. Dismissed the idea. Tried to think who else she could ask. Who else she could trust.
‘Mum? Is this about what we were saying this morning? About that Metalhead muppet again? Why are you so scared of him?’
‘I’m not. It’s nothing to do with him. Just stay in the school after prep. I’ll make sure someone’s there to pick you up.’
‘Come on, something’s wrong.’
‘It is not,’ she snapped. ‘Nothing is bloody wrong. Now please don’t ask me again.’
Millie shrank back a little, her mouth open. She looked for a moment as if she was going to say something, and Sally took a step forward, wanting to say sorry. But Millie turned on a heel and marched back inside the school gates, leaving Sally standing in the rain, trembling under her umbrella.
Shit, she thought, feeling in her pocket for her car keys. Life really was turning out to be the closest thing to hell.
Chapter 38
‘I don’t want to do this.’ Zoë drew the curtains and switched on the overhead light. ‘You’re making me do this. So I’m asking you – as a fellow human being – to recognize that.’
Sitting on the chair at the end of the room Ben nodded dully. ‘I recognize you as a human being, Zoë. Maybe more than you do yourself.’
She stood in front of him, unbuckled her boots and kicked them aside. She unzipped the trousers and stepped out of them. Her own knickers were still on the floor at Kelvin’s so she was wearing a pair of Sally’s, which were too wide and flopped around her hips as she undressed. She hiked them up and unbuttoned the shirt, threw it on the floor, and stood a step away from him, arms hanging at her sides. She felt totally foolish.
Ben sat forward, his elbows on his knees, his head up. He was expressionless, his mouth slightly open, as he moved his attention all over her face, over the swollen nose, the bruises on her cheeks, and down, over her bare arms, covered with bramble scratches. Then the bruises and the scars. She held out her arms and sighed. ‘This one.’ She put a finger on the scabbed mess she’d made last week, the day he’d admitted sleeping with Debbie. ‘This is recent, but I did it to myself. And these ones here? They’re old. I did them too.’