The Mistress - Jill Childs Page 0,25

about it but deep down, I already knew that. I wasn’t liked. Abrupt Laura Dixon. I’d tried to keep myself to myself. I’d tried not to mind. But now I was frightened of them too. I couldn’t afford to draw attention to myself. I couldn’t afford to let them suspect me. If the sharks came circling, who here would protect me from them?

I swallowed. ‘I’m not feeling great. Sorry. I think I’ll just go home.’

Back in the flat, I opened a bottle of Shiraz and drank a glass. I unfolded Ralph’s memorial service booklet and pinned it on the fridge with the Shakespeare magnet he had given me, one of the small gifts I’d missed in my mad purge and couldn’t bear now to throw away. His dead eyes followed me round the kitchen. The magnet read, My heart is ever at your service.

Not anymore, I thought. Your heart’s stopped, Ralph. Cold in the ocean. I stopped it.

I switched the TV on and lay on the settee, my head on one padded arm and my knees hooked over the other, and worked my way through the bottle of wine. The TV picture blurred and swam. I thought about eating but I was empty, not hungry. An emptiness food couldn’t fill. Hours slipped by. Outside, the light was becoming soft and mellow as the day drew towards its end.

When the early evening news came on, I struggled to my feet and swayed across the room to the window to draw the curtains. The wall propped me upright. I put my forehead to the cool glass, then squashed the end of my nose there too. I was too high up for anyone to see me.

I grasped the edge of the curtain and started to pull it across. Then stopped. A man was sitting on a wall near the bus stop, there, further down the road. His head was craning forward, over a newspaper, his face obscured.

I frowned, struggled to see. He looked familiar. Not Ralph. Too short. Too stocky. I stared again, hanging now off the curtain I grasped in my hand. Was it him, that figure I’d seen in the shadows, in amongst the trees, as we left the chapel? I shook my head and reached for the window frame, nauseous. I was imagining things. What would Ralph say? Crazy loon.

Maybe it’s my guardian angel, I thought, come to save me. Or the devil’s messenger, come to drag me off to Hell for what I’ve done.

My phone pinged. I went through to the kitchen to check the message, then stared at my phone. There was no listing there, just Number withheld.

It was a simple message. Two words.

Miss me?

I dropped the phone and staggered to the bathroom, acid in my throat, my outstretched hands banging against walls and doorframes as I lurched from one to the other.

Nineteen

That first night, when Ralph came for dinner, I cooked salmon en croûte. Shop-bought pastry, ready rolled. Stuffed with butter and flaked almonds, currants and chopped ginger. I’d made it the night before, giving myself time on Friday evening to shower after school and get ready.

My hands trembled with excitement as I applied make-up. I nearly poked my eye out with the pencil. I tried on one outfit after another. Black trousers and black silk shirt. Too tight. Same trousers and purple frilly top. Too low. A shift dress. Too short. A woollen work dress. Too frumpish.

I settled on a red cotton button-down dress with bold yellow flowers. Wraparound to show off my waist but not too low over the bust. Confident. Casual.

I had a gin and tonic to steady my jangly nerves, then put out a bowl of crisps and paced in front of them, eating the overflow each time I passed the table. I soon realised I’d eaten so many, the bowl was half-empty. I topped them up and had another drink.

By the time the door buzzed, my head was floaty with gin. His picture on the security camera was too grainy to recognise but I pressed the door release, then ran back to the bedroom, worried now about my dress.

The face in the mirror looked panicked. The make-up was too heavy. I wasn’t used to this. It had been a long time. I wasn’t ready. What was I thinking? This was a big mistake.

A rap on the flat’s front door made me jump. He must have bounded up the stairs, two at a time. I took a deep breath and tried to pull