there, feeling vulnerable and alone, probably looking online for somewhere to live, a place where I could be safe, while someone stood outside, taking a photo that they knew would frighten me.
I couldn’t cope with this on my own. I needed help. I almost called Tom a dozen times, my finger hovering over the Call button, wanting him to rescue me. I knew that he’d come to fetch me, drive me home, and I’d be back in my old life. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. Sarah was the only person I could think of. I wondered what she’d say if she knew Tom had told me he loved me, that he missed me. I thought she’d tell me to go back, to count myself lucky he knew nothing of Harry. And then I wondered: Had he talked to her? Her contact details were in our address book at home. Had he told her he wanted me to come back? Had she told him where I lived?
She would be awake at seven, but I couldn’t contact her that early. She’d be running around, too busy to reply. And I should get going, too; I had to be at work at nine. I got to work early and sat in my car until I knew she’d be at her desk. I sent her a message:
Have you spoken to Tom since I left home?
She replied immediately. No, I’m not the one who goes after married men
I ignored this barb. I had too much to think about. I thought of the photos I’d had with their cryptic messages, the phone calls, those disgusting men who didn’t even know me who thought I’d have sex with them for money. My phone number was on that site; who had put it there?
I’d been followed home from the wine bar. I knew I had. At times I’d wondered whether I’d imagined it, but that was just wishful thinking. I knew someone had been following me. That silver car had driven past three times round and had stopped just yards from me. I’d known that if the driver had got out, I’d be in serious trouble. I hadn’t taken it personally, though, until I saw the same car driving up and down my road later that night. After I’d run away from it I hadn’t seen it again until I was in my flat. Nobody had followed me there. I felt a surge of panic. I hadn’t thought of that before. They knew where I lived.
I swallowed my pride and called Sarah, but she didn’t answer. I sent her a message:
Something weird has happened. Someone put a photo of me through my front door in the middle of the night. They must have been watching me.
There was no reply for a while and I sat in my car watching my colleagues go into the building. They stared at me and I waved, but got no response. Just before nine, when I was about to go in to work, she replied. I could tell she was exasperated with me:
Honestly, Ruby, every time I speak to you, you tell me something weird has happened. First it was the phone calls, then the mysterious interview, then someone following you, and now this.
Energized, I replied: I know! And that’s the second time I’ve been sent a photo! Who could have done it?
She didn’t reply for an hour. I was frantically typing my way through the office’s workload when her message finally came through:
Oh for God’s sake. I always think that if someone’s going through too much drama, it’s down to them. Something to think about?
My face was hot when I read that. And then I remembered I hadn’t even told her about the half-empty mug of coffee. I was glad I hadn’t then.
CHAPTER 54
Ruby
I started to become quite withdrawn. Sarah’s messages had upset me and made me realize that if she didn’t understand, nobody would. I hardly said a word at work, just saying “Good morning” and “Good night” to people who didn’t respond. When I got home at night I did nothing, just sat on the sofa, watching movies on my laptop, trying to figure out how I’d got into this mess and