‘Honestly, no. Forget it. I won’t be seeing him again.’
‘But—’
‘I’m serious. There’s nothing the police can do. It’ll look like I was asking for it.’
‘No way.’
‘I’m a girl in a bar, I’ve had alcohol, I’m dressed like this,’ I sighed. ‘Believe me, it’s not worth the hassle.’
The man’s smile dropped. ‘I’ll go downstairs now and see if I can find the prick.’
‘You won’t find him. Look down,’ I said, my head tilting to the rooftop balcony. Below the hotel were twelve lanes of traffic, a spider of a junction just yards from the entrance. ‘You see how busy it is down there? He’s gone.’
The man mopped his brow with a napkin.
‘Well, can I get you something?’ he asked. ‘A drink? Some water? Something stronger?’
‘Water. Please.’
He returned in seconds with a pint of iced water. I put my hand into the glass and grabbed a few ice cubes, pressing them against my cheek. The ice melted quickly between my fingertips, dripping down my dress, onto the floor. The man took a clean napkin from the side of the bar and wrapped up the remaining ice, and without asking, held it up against my face.
‘Is it bad?’ I asked.
‘No. It’s actually like a beauty spot.’
‘Oh, come on. You don’t have to be so nice. I can take it.’
‘Okay, it’s quite a red and raw beauty spot … but that won’t last long.’
I laughed, and then began to cry. The man brought me close to him and hugged me tight. This simple act of kindness from a stranger was the truest form of comfort that I’d experienced in a long, long time.
‘Do you want to get out of here?’ the man asked. ‘I mean, I can’t say I know the area, but do you want to go for a walk?’
‘And get some fresh air?’ I managed to joke.
He laughed. ‘I hear the air conditioning in the lobby is out of this world.’
‘I should go home.’
‘You live here?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Alright for some. This time tomorrow I’ll be back in Blighty.’
‘You here on business?’
‘How did you guess?’
I pressed the ice deeper into my burn. ‘You seem a little overwhelmed by the heat.’
The man cracked another smile. ‘Am I that much of an amateur?’
‘I’ve seen worse.’
‘Look, can I at least see that you get home okay? I’ll get a taxi with you?’
‘That’s kind of you, but no, I’m fine.’
And I did feel fine, within reason. This man’s calm presence had to get credit for that.
‘Well, at least give me your number,’ he suggested. ‘And I’ll give you mine. Then text me when you’re home so I know you really are fine.’
As I took my phone from my bag, the man held the napkin full of ice against my cheek, keeping the fresh wound cool. At the far end of the bar, I could see Katie and the girls helping themselves to a bottle of vodka served with sparklers, the bar’s signature birthday treat. I wasn’t going to be the person to bring the mood down. I’d take Katie for lunch next week, apologise for leaving so abruptly.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Thank you for … I dunno, saving me.’
He blushed, which I found rather sweet. ‘You’re very welcome,’ he said.
I headed towards the elevator, pressed the button, waited. In the last few minutes, whilst enduring unbearable pain and complete humiliation, I had felt lighter than usual, a gentle atmosphere of safety encompassing me.
I heard the man’s voice again.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?’ he asked.
The elevator pinged open.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Well, shall I come down to the lobby with you, and then, when you’re safe inside a taxi, you can decide whether or not you want me to go with you?’
I smiled. ‘Yes.’
As the elevator doors closed, the man put his arms gently around me.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Gregory. Nick Gregory.’
14
Jim
I look across at Zara. She’s gone pale, taking deep breaths.
‘Do you need me to pull over?’ I ask.
‘What? Why?’
‘You look like you’re gonna be sick.’
‘Likewise.’
‘Look, just don’t be sick in me car, alright?’
For some reason, this makes her laugh and she has the cheek to give me an ‘aye aye captain’ with salute.
‘Boys and their toys,’ she says to herself, all smug, although loud enough for me to hear.
I’m seething, but I don’t respond. It’s sounds daft, but yeah, I want her to think I’m just a boy and this BMW is my little toy. Not her, specifically. I couldn’t give a flying fuck about what she thinks.