Page 74

‘But how do we get that phone off him? She won’t be able to move forward while she knows he’s out there, while that image is still out there.’ I was shivering. Sam took his jacket off and hung it around my shoulders. It carried the residual warmth of him and I tried not to look as grateful as I felt.

‘We can’t turn up at his office or her parents will find out. We could email him? Tell him he has to send it back, or else?’

‘He’s hardly just going to cough it up. He might not even answer an email – that could be used as evidence.’

‘Oh, it’s hopeless.’ I let out a long moan. ‘Maybe she’s just going to have to learn to live with it. Maybe we can convince her that it’s as much in his interests to forget what happened as it is hers. Because it is, right? Maybe he’ll just get rid of the phone himself.’

‘You think she’ll go with that?’

‘No.’ I rubbed my eyes. ‘I can’t bear it. I can’t bear that he’ll get away with it. That creepy, nasty, manipulative, limo-driving scumbag …’ I stood up and gazed out at the city below me, feeling briefly despairing. I could see the future: Lily, defensive and wild, as she tried to escape the shadow of her past. That phone was the key to her behaviour, to her future.

Think, I told myself. Think what Will would do. He would not have let this man win. I had to strategize like he would. I watched the traffic creeping slowly past the front door of my block. I thought of Mr Garside’s big black car, cruising the streets of Soho. I thought about a man who moved silently and easily through life, confident that it would always work his way.

‘Sam?’ I said. ‘Is there a drug you could give that could stop someone’s heart?’

He let that hang in the air for a moment. ‘Please tell me you’re kidding.’

‘No. Listen. I’ve got an idea.’

She said nothing at first. ‘You’ll be safe,’ I said. ‘And this way nobody has to know a thing.’ What moved me most was that she didn’t ask me the question I had been asking myself ever since I outlined my plan to Sam. How do you know this will actually work?

‘I’ve got it all lined up, sweetheart,’ Sam said.

‘But nobody else knows –’

‘Anything. Just that he’s hassling you.’

‘Won’t you get in trouble?’

‘Don’t worry about me.’

She pulled at her sleeve, then murmured, ‘And you won’t leave me with him. At all.’

‘Not for one minute.’

She chewed her lip. Then she looked at Sam, and over at me. And something seemed to settle inside her. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’

I bought a cheap, pay-as-you-go handset, called Lily’s stepfather’s workplace and got Mr Garside’s mobile number from his secretary by pretending we had arranged to meet for a drink. That evening as I waited for Sam to arrive, I sent a text to Garside’s number.

Mr Garside. I’m sorry about hitting you. I just freaked. I want to sort it out. L

He left it half an hour before responding, probably to make her sweat.

Why should I talk to you, Lily? You were very rude after all the help I gave you.

‘Prick,’ muttered Sam.

I know. I’m sorry. But I do need your help.

This is not a one-way street, Lily.

I know. You just gave me a shock. I needed time to think. Let’s meet up. I’ll give you what you want, but you have to give me the phone first.

I don’t think you get to dictate terms, Lily.

Sam looked at me. I looked back at him, then began to type.

Not even … if I’m a really bad girl?

A pause.

Now you’ve got my interest.

Sam and I exchanged a look. ‘I just did a little sick in my mouth,’ I said.

Tomorrow night then, I typed. I’ll send you the address when I’ve checked my friend will be out.

When we were sure he wouldn’t respond, Sam put the phone into his pocket, where Lily couldn’t see it, and held me for a long time.

I was almost ill with nerves the next day, and Lily was worse. We picked at our breakfast, and I let Lily smoke in the flat, and was almost tempted to ask for a cigarette myself. We watched a film and did some chores badly, and by seven thirty that evening, when Sam arrived, my head was buzzing so much I could barely speak.

‘Did you send the address?’ I asked him.

‘Yup.’

‘Show me.’

The phone message was simply the address of my flat and signed L.

He had responded: I have a meeting in town and I’ll be there shortly after eight.

‘You okay?’ he said.

My stomach tightened. I felt as if I could hardly breathe. ‘I don’t want to get you into trouble. I mean – what if you get found out? You’ll lose your job.’

Sam shook his head. ‘Won’t happen.’

‘I shouldn’t have pulled you into this mess. You’ve been so brilliant and I feel like I’m repaying you by putting you at risk.’

‘We’ll all be fine. Keep breathing.’ He smiled reassuringly at me, but I thought I could detect a faint strain around his eyes.

He glanced over my shoulder and I turned. Lily was wearing a black T-shirt, denim shorts and black tights, and she had done her make-up so that she looked simultaneously very beautiful and very young. ‘You all right, sweetheart?’

She nodded. Her skin, normally the slightly olive colour Will’s had been, was unusually pale. Her eyes were huge in her face.

‘It’s all going to be fine, I’d be surprised if it takes longer than five minutes. Lou’s been through it all with you, yes?’ Sam’s voice was calm, reassuring.

We had rehearsed it a dozen times. I wanted her to reach a point where she wouldn’t freeze, where she could repeat her lines without thinking.

‘I know what I’m doing.’

‘Right,’ he said, and clapped his hands together. ‘Quarter to eight. Let’s get ready.’

He was punctual, I had to give him that. At one minute past eight my buzzer rang. Lily took an audible breath, I squeezed her hand, and then she answered the entry-phone. Yes. Yes, she’s gone. Come up. It didn’t seem to occur to him that she might not be what he thought.

Lily let him in. Only I, watching through the crack in my bedroom door, could see the way her hand trembled as she reached for the lock. Garside ran his hand over his hair, glanced briefly around the hallway. He was wearing a good grey suit, and tucked his car keys into his inside breast pocket. I couldn’t stop staring at him, at his expensive shirt, his beady, acquisitive eyes as they scanned the flat. My jaw tightened. What kind of man felt entitled to press himself on a girl forty years younger than he was? To blackmail the child of his own colleague?