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Then I tell myself to calm down. Get a grip. Howcouldit have been Alex? I mean, what possible motive would he have to do something like that? He doesn’t have a clue Georgina and I are mortal enemies or about the miserable history we share from school. But then, with a sinking feeling, I recall Freddie first mentioned seeing the black Range Rover the same day Jack asked me out on the ‘date.’ My brother had said the mysterious car followed us all the way home from school.
Is it possible that somehow, Alex was nearby when I was speaking to Jack, overheard my plans for the evening, and then followed me to the cinema, only to witness the humiliating trick Georgina pulled on me? It also seems oddly convenient that the arson attack happened the very day after, suggesting it was this that triggered it. Was burning down her parents’ house an act of revenge on my behalf? It certainly seems plausible.
All I know is, only someone with a deeply unhinged mind would throw a petrol bomb and it makes me fear for my safety. And not only mine. I’ve got to think about my mum and Freddie’s safety too. I can’t believe how irresponsible and stupid I’ve been. How can I sleep peacefully knowing someone like that is out there lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce? Jesus, if this is the type of craziness Alex is capable of, then what on earth would happen if I ever tried to break up with him?
The more I think about it, the more stressed I become. It feels like I can’t breathe, like the walls are closing in on me with nowhere to escape. It’s time to face the facts. If Alex did do this, then it means I’ve started a relationship with a dangerous psychopath with an unhealthy obsession.
And I’ve got a date with him this coming Saturday. He’s sending Hobbs to pick me up from my house. Christ on a bike. What the hell am I going to do?
“What are you girls doing in there?” Brian’s gravelly voice outside the toilets snaps me from my stupor. “I don’t pay you to stand around gossiping. We have customers to serve, now get your lazy arses back to work.”
“Shit!” Amina whispers. “We’ve been rumbled. We’d better get outside.” Rushing over to the basins, she turns on the taps and washes her hands. Then, pulling me by the arm, she unlocks the door and steps outside smiling sweetly to Brian, who doesn’t look in the least bit amused.
“You’re such a bad influence on Jess,” he growls, pushing his thick rimmed glasses up his nose. “She was so good when she first started working here but now all your bad habits are rubbing off on her. If I ever catch you two skiving again, I’ll dock it from your pay.”
“Sorry, boss,” she beams. “Got the message loud and clear. It won’t happen again. Come on, Jess, let’s go. Oh, and Brian?”
“What?”
“I think you might want to get those smoke alarms checked. I don’t think they’re working.”
“How would you know? Wait. For crying out loud, you’d better not have been smoking in the toilets again.”
“Just kidding! Jeez, you need to lighten up.”
I feel nauseous, faint and on the brink of tears for the rest of the morning. Barely able to function, I leave Amina to deal with the customers, preferring to keep myself hidden away in the kitchen most of the time. I’m also beginning to get paranoid. Every couple of minutes, I steal a quick glance out the restaurant window in search of Alex’s black Range Rover and sag with relief when I see no sign of it. It feels like he’s constantly watching me, even when I know he isn’t, and soon it gets so bad I lock myself in the toilets for ages just to get some peace.
Fuck, I’ve never been so scared in all my life. How on earth did I get myself into this situation and more importantly, how do I get out of it? There’s no way I can go back to Claremont Hall on Saturday. No way can I endure another night of back-breaking sex with him. I can’t be his girlfriend, I just can’t. This isn’t going to work, never in a million years. Somehow, I need to find a way to put an end to this madness once and for all. But how? It’s highly unlikely Alex will go quietly.
By the time two-thirty comes and my shift is over, I’ve worked myself into such a state I can scarcely put one foot in front of the other. In a fog of anxiety, I grab my coat and bag and hurry out the diner, heading in the direction of Freddie’s primary school. Everything is a blur. I can’t think straight, can’t see straight, like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Images of Georgina keep flashing up in my mind. I wonder just how badly she’s been burnt. What must it have been like to be trapped in a burning building, fearing for your life? It must have been terrifying. And where was Jack when all this happened? Was he at the party too?
Jesus, my head is so messed up, I nearly get hit by a car because I’m not looking where I’m going. Alex Kingswood has completely highjacked my brain and it will be a miracle if I can get home in one piece. Finally, I reach the school gates and keep at a distance from the other parents, not wanting to engage in small talk today. Then the bell rings and the kids start piling out.
“Jess, Jess!” Freddie shouts, running into my arms dramatically. “Ollie’s not speaking to me.”
“Why not?” I ask, barely capable of stringing a coherent sentence. “Have the two of you fallen out again?”
“Yes,” he replies. “Ollie says I keep copying everything he says. He says he’s sick of it and now he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. Now he’s friends with Charlie instead and I’m really, really sad.”
“And is it true that you keep copying him?”
“Yes, but only because I like to learn new words. Ollie is so good at making up new words and that’s the only reason I copy him. But now he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore and won’t sit next to me and won’t play with me at lunchtime. I tried to give him a Kit-Kat to say sorry, but he doesn’t want it.”
“Well, if Ollie doesn’t want to be your friend, then it’s his loss not yours. Only be friends with people who want to be friends with you, darling. Tomorrow, play with some other children in your class, ignore him completely, and you never know, he might come crawling back.”
“On his hands and knees?” Freddie says hopefully.
“On his hands and knees. Now hold my hand and stay alert. We need to cross the road.”
Gingerly, I take my little brother’s hand and, checking the coast is clear, cross the street before turning left to take a different route home.
“Why are we going this way? I don’t want to go this way. I want to go through Ferndale Avenue so I can count all the tree numbers.”
“I know you do, Kiddo,” I say through clenched teeth. “But sometimes it’s nice to go home a different way. It makes things more fun. Variety is the spice of life.”
“Oh, all right then, but only if we can go through Ferndale Avenue tomorrow.”
“Yep. No problem.”
