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“When’s your flight to New Zealand?” Evie asks.
“A week Wednesday. Third of August.”
“Have you got anything planned until then?”
“Nope,” I say cheerfully. “It’s been a hectic term, and the trip’s going to be busy, so I’m taking it easy. Reading, some sightseeing, and lots of cream teas!” And panicking about seeing Dad again, obviously.
Chrissie clears her throat. “And… what about you-know-who?”
“Yeah,” Evie says, “has Voldemort gotten the message yet?” Her attempt to make light of my breakup with Jason doesn’t hide her concern.
My smile fades, and I look away, across the lawn to where a thrush is trying to pull a resisting worm from the grass. There must be something about me that makes men think I’m weak and helpless and easily controlled. I’m not as small as Oliver’s fiancée, who’s tiny. I’m five-foot-five. But I am slender and have a girlish figure, and I can easily pass for seventeen or eighteen, even though I’m twenty-five now. I broke up with Jason over three months ago, but he’s refusing to take no for an answer.
“I’m working on it,” I tell them.
My sisters fall silent for a moment, though, and I know they don’t believe me. I can feel their worry seeping through the screen.
“Have you been to the police?” Evie asks.
“Not yet. I will, if it gets worse.”
“Did you contact that helpline I sent you?”
“Yes,” I say, although I haven’t.
Evie glares at me. “I wish you’d do as you’re told.”
I poke my tongue out at her. “Yes, Mum.”
“You shouldn’t make light of it,” she tells me. “These things can turn serious very fast.”
I don’t reply, because I can’t argue with her when she deals with problems like this on a daily basis in her job. I shouldn’t have told her, because now they’re both worried.
Jason has never been violent, he’s just persistent in sending me texts and messages on social media. Nothing threatening, and no dick pics or anything. If I were to show anyone else the messages, they’d look innocuous—he chats about his day, talks about movies and music he thinks I’d like, sends me funny memes and jokes, and occasionally asks me out. Whatever Evie says, I can’t help but think that the police would wonder why I hadn’t dealt with it myself rather than run to them—surely they have more serious problems to deal with?
“Enough about me,” I say cheerfully. “What are you two up to?”
Evie tells us about a training course she’s being sent on, and Chrissie chats for a bit about the school inspection she’s preparing for. We talk until my timer goes off to say the bread’s ready, and then we say goodbye, excited to see each other soon.
I take my laptop inside, retrieve the bread from the oven, then glance at my phone as it buzzes again. This time it is a text from Jason, and I pull it up with a sigh.
Don’t suppose you want to go to the cinema this evening?he asks.
I answer with:No thank you.
He comes back immediately:Come on. I know you want to see that new sci-fi.
I feel a surge of irritation. How do you convince someone it’s over? I suppose I could block him, but it feels like a massive overreaction. I don’t want things to turn nasty. I just want him to leave me alone.
I turn off my phone, leave it on the counter, and go out into the sunshine with a book. I’m not going to think about him again. I’m going to think about Titus and Sir Richard.
Smiling, I open my book and begin to read.
Chapter Two
Titus
My first week in England has proven to be super busy, filled with meetings, conferences, and industry talks, and Tuesday the twenty-sixth turns out to be more of the same.
