not anymore. He removes the last of my things from his car and returns to the driver’s seat. I run to the driver’s side and press my hands against the window. It rolls down.
‘Jim? Before you go, please tell me what you see when you look at my face.’
Jim’s face falls with an apology.
‘I know you see it,’ I say. ‘Tell me what you see.’
He looks right at it. ‘A scar. A ciggie burn. A pretty bad one.’
‘It’s six months old and it knocked the fucking wind out of me. But, I was helped by a kind stranger, who became a kind friend, and more. He gave me the confidence to get out of the hole I was in, to get on a plane and come here—’
‘Why are you telling me this, love?’
‘Because the man who helped me lives in that house over there. And I’m scared that he isn’t who he said he was. I need to believe that the last six months of my life haven’t been a complete lie. And you were wrong, Jim.’
‘What about?’
‘You said you don’t know me. Well, you do. Honestly, there isn’t much more to me than what you already know. And I know more about you than anybody else in Liverpool, so call it weird, call me fucking psycho or whatever, but I’m asking you to wait with my things, just for a little while longer.’
‘How much longer?’
‘Can I get back in the car?’
Jim flicks his head as if to say, go on then.
‘I’m not gonna lie,’ I tell him, getting into the passenger side. ‘I’m totally freaking out. Oh, God.’
‘Okay, just breathe.’
I obey, but not without a struggle. The panic is unreal. I close my eyes, knowing that I’ll have to retrace my steps from yesterday. The breathing is helping; Jim’s advice is sound.
‘I just need another minute or two,’ I whisper.
‘Well, I’m also gonna close me eyes then,’ Jim says. ‘Don’t mind me.’
16
Jim
She’s quiet.
I don’t want to blame Zara for the headache I’ve got, but Christ. Every time she speaks, she might as well take a little hammer out and batter my brain. Every passing second is like I’m standing on an escalator, walking up the one that’s moving downwards. If I run, it only speeds up. I’m stuck; I can’t get off.
So, this moment of calm, this miniature window of tranquility, I’m all in.
In fact, I can feel myself nodding off.
Ah. This is nice. A little kip’s just what I need. Then I can say adios to this maniac and drive to Griffo’s dad’s, a bit more perky, head a bit clearer to explain why I’m so late. I know I won’t be getting fifty gr—
Stop.
I’m not ready to acknowledge this yet.
I’m swaying. My eyes are closed, my body still, my head against the seat. And yet, I’m swaying. My whole everything sways, it swarms, it’s drowning in a black ocean of giant waves and I’ve forgotten how to swim. Or, no. I’m just too weak to survive it. I’m going to be sick. Oh God, if I keep my eyes closed, I will, I’ll vomit. Breathe. Just breathe, fella. Focus. I’m going to have to open my eyes and stop this merry-go-round spinning. But, I want some time, I want some sleep. It’ll help me out when I finally get the chance to see Griffo’s dad, especially since my phone’s dead and I can’t ring him. If I can just get some kip, I can apologise without yawning.
Apologise?
Griffo’s dad isn’t the sort of fella you want to apologise to.
Oh, fuck this day. Fuck. It. All.
17
Zara
I hadn’t planned on inviting him back to my papa’s villa.
Plenty of taxis were waiting outside the hotel and Nick still had his arm around my shoulders. I didn’t want to break free from his safe hold, to sit alone in the back of a car with a strange man driving me home who would simply see me as a drunk girl leaving a bar. And I know, Nick Gregory was a strange man, too. But Nick had witnessed the whole incident. Even if he wasn’t the only person to see what had happened, he was the only one who acted upon it.
We talked the whole way, just like two regular people who had hooked up, and his cute accent and bad jokes made the ache in my cheek somehow ease.
It felt natural to invite Nick in for a drink.
He told me to find a first aid kit and helped to clean then fix