My left hand starts to shake uncontrollably. I think back to those moments over the past few weeks when I thought I saw him, but dismissed it as my imagination. As stress. I drag up the courage to turn to look at him. He’s changed a little. Lost some weight in his face. But he still has those same dark eyes that seem to see into my soul and shrivel up my spirit. He still has that condescending smile. The one that turns my stomach to water.
‘What are you doing here?’ I manage to stutter out.
‘Just visiting a friend.’ He lingers on the word ‘friend’ like there’s a double meaning. Like the friend he’s referring to is me.
I want to ask him if he’s been following me, but I can’t quite choke out the words.
‘That’s £3.90,’ Tabitha says with a cheerful smile, oblivious to the turmoil twisting through me.
I’m brought back to my present surroundings with a jolt and somehow manage to swipe my card and put 50p in the tips jar.
‘Generous,’ Damian says with a smirk in his voice.
Tabitha looks from me to Damian with undisguised curiosity.
I can’t do this. ‘Actually, Tabitha, I’ve just remembered something. Don’t worry about the roll.’ I turn to leave, knocking shoulders with a woman queuing behind me.
‘Don’t mind me,’ she snaps.
I shake my head, unable to even say sorry. My heart is clattering, my breaths are coming in short little gasps and my eyes are blurry as I make my way blindly through the café and back out into the freezing rain that’s falling heavier by the second. I feel as though I’ve been transported back to that time when I was under Damian’s thumb. When I was scared to go out, to say the wrong thing, to even look at him the wrong way. Why has he come back? Why now?
I start walking, not caring in which direction, not caring that I have no umbrella to shield me from the downpour. I just have to get away from him. I need to clear my head. I’m not that timid person any longer. I’m not. I’ve made a great new life for myself. I ... I realise I was thinking about my fiancé and my successful career, but I don’t have those things any longer. My engagement has ended and my career has stalled. I technically don’t even have a place to live.
As I hurry from the café, I cast a glance over my shoulder, checking to see if Damian is following me. I can’t see him. I quicken my pace, anyway, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. I should go back to work, but I can’t face any of them right now. Miriam will ask me what’s wrong, and I can’t give her yet another sob story. Everything is such a mess and I’m already soaked right through to my skin. I should go home and get changed.
I stop where I am in the middle of the pavement as the lunchtime crowd rushes past, huddled under umbrellas, raincoats pulled tight, hoods obscuring their faces.
‘You forgot this.’
I jump and almost trip backwards into the road as one of the figures stops in front of me.
It’s Damian holding out a brown paper bag. ‘Your lunch.’
‘Keep it,’ I say, regaining my balance. I’m shivering with cold, my teeth chattering.
‘I’ve missed you, Alice.’ His voice sends another jolt of anxiety to my gut.
‘What are you doing here?’ I cry. ‘Have you been following me?’
His eyes widen and he holds up his hands. ‘Woah, calm down, little one.’
My skin crawls at the use of his pet name for me. Back when we first got together, I loved it, but after a while he would say it in a mocking way, like I was this helpless, useless creature. ‘Have you?’ I push.
‘Have I what?’
‘Been following me?’
‘You’re being paranoid.’
‘What car do you drive?’ I ask, thinking back to last month when I thought I saw a silver car following me. I stare at him, repulsed by the lazy smile that spreads across his features.
‘Relax, Alice. It’s a free country. I can come back to Ringwood if I like. You don’t own the place.’
I grit my teeth. Now that I’ve got over the shock of seeing him face to face, now that he’s here in front of me and I know I wasn’t going crazy, imagining things, I need answers. ‘Why are you here, Damian?’
‘Told you. I’m visiting—’
‘Yeah, a friend, you already said. I mean why have you been following me? Why are you here now talking to me? We broke up. I told you I never wanted to see you again.’
