You're the One That I Don't Want - By Alexandra Potter Page 0,95
gravely.
‘No, I didn’t!’ I cry, before I can stop myself. ‘Look, I know how that must appear, but I was climbing over the railings to get towards you, not run away from you.’
‘Miss Hemmingway,’ he says sternly.
‘Officer McCrory.’ I sit bolt upright. This is it. He’s going to charge me.
‘I need to say something.’
‘I know what you’re going to say,’ I blurt. Well, what the hell. It’s too late now. I know I’m going down.
‘You do?’
I vacuum my throat nervously, then launch straight in. ‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.’
For a moment there’s complete silence and he just stares at me blankly. Then, shaking his head, he lets out a low whistle. ‘Jeez,’ he says finally.
‘My roommate is a huge fan of CSI,’ I explain, my voice trembling fearfully. ‘I know the score.’
Visions of me being carted off to the cells swim before my eyes. Flashes of my parents’ shocked reactions, Kate campaigning as a lawyer to free me . . . I can see the newspaper headlines now:
BRITISH GIRL JAILED IN AMERICA –
LIFE SENTENCE FOR TRYING TO BREAK UP WITH THE ONE
‘She thought she’d found her soulmate,’ says former roommate Robyn Weisenberg, ‘but then she couldn’t get rid of him. The universe wouldn’t let her. It’s a tragedy.’
Still, I suppose that’s one way of having closure with Nate. A life sentence.
‘So, do you Œ€">‘So, doëyouhave any questions?’
I zone back to see Officer McCrory looking at me expectantly.
My mouth goes dry. ‘Do I get a phone call?’ I stammer. My eyes are beginning to sting with tears and I feel slightly dizzy. ‘Before I’m . . .’ I can barely get the words out. ‘Before I’m taken down.’
‘Down?’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘Miss Hemmingway, did you not hear me? You’re free to go.’
I stare at him in shock. ‘Free?’
‘I’m letting you go with just a warning.’ He nods, shuffling his notes.
It takes a second to register and then . . .
‘Oh my God, thank you!’ I gasp in astonishment. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ Overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, I jump out of my chair and before I know it I’m flinging my arms round his stout blue-uniformed figure. Taken aback, Officer McCrory stiffens and stands statue-still, his arms out like a scarecrow.
‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I was just . . .’ Suddenly aware that I’m bear-hugging a police officer in the NYPD, I jump back. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just so emotional.’ I feel my eyes start prickling.
‘I understand. I know how hard it can be to break up with someone,’ he says, lowering his voice. ‘My wife left me less than a year ago.’ Reaching over to his desk, he grabs a box of tissues and holds it out to me.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I reply, taking one.
‘Ran off with my best friend. But she’s still in here.’ He bangs his chest with a meaty palm, his eyes glistening, and reaches for a tissue for himself. ‘It’s like she’s everywhere I go.’
‘I know the feeling,’ I say wryly.
Sniffing, he blows his nose loudly. ‘I just want to forget about her.’
‘Me too.’ I nod wistfully, thinking about Nate. ‘Forget about him, I mean.’
Officer McCrory and I meet each other’s gaze in solidarity. Then, remembering himself, he stuffs his tissue in his pocket and says gruffly, ‘Is there anyone you can call to come pick you up?’
‘Oh, I’m fine. I’ll catch a cab.’
‘I’m not letting you outta here on your own – don’t want you reoffending.’ He looks at me, his eyes twinkling.
I think about Robyn. She’s my obvious choice, but she was going to her reiki class tonight and it usually goes on late. Last week she was out until the early hours having her aura read, apparently, and no, I don’t think that was a double-entendre.
Unknown
Then there’s Kate. I glance at the time. It’s nearly...
I rack my brains – Magda? Magda is the most liberated boss I’ve had, but there’s liberated and liberated. Calling her at midnight to tell her I’m at the cop shop and could she please come and get me probably wouldn’t be the wisest career move.
Which leaves . . . I scroll through the contacts list on my phone.