God, she was aggravating me. ‘Sharon. I have clients arriving in fifteen minutes. Go.’ She had such a skill for getting under my skin.
‘And you also have something going on with that purple-haired girl.’
I didn’t answer. Whatever I said, she’d draw her own conclusions. The lift doors opened but I didn’t shove her in there. I decided to get into the lift with her. I didn’t trust her to go to the ground floor. I pushed the button to go down and let her go when the doors had shut.
‘I want what you owe me, Jack.’ She pouted, leaning back against the far wall. She’d given up trying to get round me and seduce me months ago. Whatever feelings I’d had were well and truly dead – and she knew it.
I hated her now. ‘You never worked a day in all the years since I met you; I owe you nothing. You can keep the apartment and have a one-off settlement, of a reasonable amount, but that’s it. The end. I’m not going to be your cash machine. Invest what I give you wisely or get a job.’ Or bleed some other fucker dry.
She smiled.
She was such a bitch.
When we reached the ground floor the lift doors opened. I pushed the closed button. The doors shut again. I held the button down as my other hand grasped her wrist. ‘And, Sharon, if you have someone watching me, call them off. It’s not going to win you anything.’ I wanted to say, and if you have someone following Ivy… But mentioning that might cause more trouble. I didn’t know it was her. ‘It’s over and as soon as possible it will be over completely and you can move on with the guy you’re screwing. Marry him, you’ll have the cash from me and his open pockets.’
She made a face at me. ‘I told your lawyer I haven’t got anyone following you. I don’t need to. I have memories. I have enough dirt on you.’
‘What you don’t know is how much dirt I have on you. I won’t see you in court. I’m not going, but my lawyer will have a lot to say. Good luck, Sharon.’ I let the lift button go so the door opened, then walked her into the front reception and waited until she’d gone through the revolving door before turning to the desk. ‘That woman, Sharon Rendell. Please don’t let her in again.’
When I got back upstairs I sent Tina out for coffee to charge myself up ready for my clients and headed back into my office.
‘You okay?’ Ivy’s email pinged into my inbox.
‘:) Yes, fine. Sorry you had to see that.’
‘Call me tonight.’
‘I’ll do better. I’ll come over if you want me to?’
‘:) Okay. I’d like that.’
The rest of my day was too busy to think about Ivy or Sharon. But the minute I walked out of the office I thought about Ivy with a longing that was as dry as a desert in need of rain.
When I rode out from the basement car park at my apartment, on the bike, the traffic was still dense from rush hour. I would have weaved through the jam, but a police car had me in its sights, so I decided I’d better not.
I put my feet down on the tarmac to hold the bike steady as I waited for the light to turn green. The engine hummed between my legs. I watched the traffic around me through my dark visor. Then I checked my mirrors. I couldn’t see the car with the first three digits of the number plate I’d remembered. Everything looked normal, but it was busy.
It was busy all the way out to Ivy’s and I kept looking in the mirrors to see the police car following me most of the way, so I couldn’t duck and dive through any of the queues. But when I turned into Ivy’s street, leaning slightly over on my bike and checking the mirror as the indicator ticked, I noticed a car following me that I hadn’t spotted because I’d been focusing on the police car. But this car I knew. This car I’d bought.
I pulled up in the street and the car passed by me, then the indicator went on and it pulled in a few places ahead.
Here we go. I sighed as I slipped my helmet off, but I didn’t get off the bike.
‘Hello.’ Sharon used her bright voice as she walked up to me. The one that said she wanted to play nice games.
I didn’t answer, just sat on the bike with my feet steadying it, my helmet on the saddle in front of me.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Isn’t that my question?’
‘I wanted to know why you’re so bothered about me having someone following you. Is there a woman in there?’
‘Piss off, Sharon. Go home.’
‘I knew you must be hiding something. Is this place one of yours?’
‘No. Go.’ I looked down and unzipped a pocket in the chest of my leather suit, then pulled out my phone and looked at her. ‘Calling John, right now, and if you fail to go, I’ll call the police and have you arrested for stalking.’
She smiled. ‘Going.’ Then turned away. She knew we’d been badly matched. She’d probably known it from the beginning – she didn’t want anything from life other than sex, drugs and the money to buy them, it probably didn’t matter to her that we’d never had anything to hold a conversation about.
I breathed out, pulled the bike up on to its stand, climbed off it and then ran up the steps to the front door. Sharon was in her car, on the phone.
I pressed the buzzer.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi. It’s Jack. Let me up.’
The door clicked.
I ran up the stairs, my heart racing. Ivy was holding the door open for me when I got up there. ‘We’ve got a stalker tonight.’
‘What?’ Her pupils flared.
‘It’s okay. Not like that – it’s Sharon. She’s outside. I told her to go, but I’m not sure if she’s gone.’
‘She saw me watching you earlier. She probably knows.’
‘She didn’t seem to know it was you living here, though. She followed me.’
‘Then the other stuff wasn’t her…’
I gave her a one-shoulder shrug as the fear that statement sent through me struck between my ribs like the puncture of a knife blade. Who then?
Ivy hadn’t dressed up because I’d texted and told her not to, for which I’d had a twisted-face reply on the text, implying what are you going to get me doing? I didn’t think she was going to like my idea, but it was important to me, and so I wanted her to give it another go.
‘What are we doing?’ she asked.
‘Going to the climbing club.’
She immediately slapped my arm. ‘Jack.’
‘It’s different in that setting.’
It wasn’t controlling – I’d been fighting with myself all day on that point. It was something so important to me I wanted her to be able to share in it, that was all.
She stuck her tongue out.
‘Get your climbing kit and your leathers on – I’ll put your shoes in the carrier on my bike. Then let’s get over there and have some fun. It’ll be quiet on a Friday.’
‘I don’t call doing something that freaks me out fun.’
‘It’ll be different at the club. I promise. Go on. And if Sharon follows, she can’t get in there.’
‘You can be a bastard, Jack. You didn’t tell me where you were asking me on a date to tonight because you knew I wouldn’t go if you said.’
‘Correct. But at least I didn’t lie.’
Her fist hit my tummy lightly. ‘That’s playing Captain Control. You should’ve asked me.’
I laughed at her petulance. Which was cruel, I suppose. Maybe I hadn’t got a handle on my alter ego yet, but at least I was trying. She made me want to try. ‘Come on. It will be your choice. I can’t force you to climb. But you know I love climbing – I want you to try it. For me… I want us to be able to climb together. No sales pitch; I am only asking.’
‘But I hate heights,’ she grumbled, as she turned around to her cupboard and started pulling out the clothes she needed.
I sat on the bed and watched her body as she dressed, her pale, slender arms and her flat, washboard stomach, and remembered her saying she did yoga to work out. ‘Where do you do yoga?’
‘A place near work.’
‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll come sometime, if you like, so you can get your own back on me.’
She glanced across at me and shook her head.
‘Thing is, though, yoga doesn’t exercise your heart, it’s too slow.’
She slid her arms into her top and bunched it up to pull it over her head. ‘Believe me, my heart does not need any additional exercise – your randomness is keeping it worked out.’
‘What?’
She slipped the top over her head, then straightened up and looked at me as she pulled it down over her middle. ‘You make my heart race. I never know what you’re going to suggest. You have me terrified half the time.’
‘And the other half.’
She gave me a twisted smile. ‘Excited.’
I laughed. ‘You make me feel excited too.’
‘Yes, but I don’t scare you and make you do the things you hate, and my ex isn’t a she-devil, or even a he-devil.’
‘Don’t be a chicken.’ Those were my last words on the subject as I helped her pull on her leathers. Or maybe Captain Control’s last words.
When I went outside I checked the street. Yes. Sharon was still there.
We walked down the steps and I held Ivy’s hand as Sharon climbed out of the car. I weaved my fingers in between Ivy’s as Sharon walked closer. ‘Sorry,’ I said glancing at Ivy. ‘The she-devil is out of her lair.’
‘It’s okay.’
It wasn’t okay.
‘The purple-haired girl…’
I didn’t answer.
‘She doesn’t look like your type.’
I turned to tell Ivy to put her helmet on, but she let go of my hand and stepped forward. ‘Hi.’
‘So he’s got you all kitted up to go out with him.’
‘Yes.’
I moved forward and wrapped an arm about Ivy’s waist. ‘Come on, Ivy—’
‘Ivy… Nice name. But you do realise, he’s not your type either. You look too tame.’
‘Shut up, Sharon.’
‘No, it’s okay, she can talk. You told me what you were like before.’ Ivy dived right in.
‘Yes, and then I realised what an asshole I was.’ I stared at Sharon.
‘He loves prostitutes; did he tell you that? That’s his type.’
‘That isn’t my type—’ I protested, but Ivy interrupted me.
‘He told me anyway. He also told me you bought them for him, and he sent most of them away.’
‘And they really were not my type.’ I braced Ivy’s waist more firmly.
‘Whatever, she doesn’t look like something you’d want. There’s no fire in her eyes.’ Sharon looked from me to Ivy. ‘He’ll get bored of you in a few months, love.’ She turned and walked off, then she looked back. ‘And I haven’t been following you. I have better things to do.’
I breathed in and faced Ivy. ‘Sorry.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s okay. It’s probably better we got it over with.’
‘I guess. Come on.’ I kissed her on the lips before I slipped my helmet over my head. But things did not feel over. Sharon was still legally my wife and Ivy had just endured one of Sharon’s finest outbursts.
And if Sharon wasn’t the person following Ivy, then who had been?