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  I can’t believe this is happening.

  “Gary, do you wish to change your statement?”

  I look up at him and the policeman, still in a state of shock, unable to react because my mind, my voice, just won’t work.

  “Do you wish to change your statement?”

  This time I manage to shake my head. “No, I don’t want to change my statement.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Why would I change it?” Finding some strength inside me, I start to fight back. “It’s the truth.”

  “You’ve changed your story multiple times,” he says. “If I am correct, you first told the police your name was Lee Wilkins.”

  “Give me a break,” I say. “That was just ticket dodging – everyone does it.”

  “Then you told them Tamara broke her necklace and gave it to you for safekeeping...”

  “I didn’t steal her necklace.” I look him straight in the eye so there can be no misunderstanding. “Them thugs took it, and I got it back!”

  “So why didn’t you return her necklace?”

  I don’t know, and now Tammy’s turned her back on me. Well, I guess I’m for it. “I just forgot I had it.” I still can’t take all this in. My head just throbs with the effort. “Everything happened so quickly, and...”

  “I believe you,” he says. “First you’re all fired up after fighting off Tamara’s attackers, then you’re focused on looking after her, and you want to cheer her up so you take her to her dance. And amongst all that wealth and glamour... I can imagine it was very overwhelming for someone like you.”

  He’s got me all confused, and I don’t know what’s going on. First he calls me a liar, now he seems to be on my side.

  “Trouble is, Gary – can I call you Gary?”

  I nod, it’s my name, after all, and better than a lot of other names I usually get called.

  “No one else will believe you.”

  He’s right. The way he puts things, who would believe me over Tammy? She’s rich and respectable. Me? I’m scum.

  “I’ve got a daughter your age.” He sits down next to me like he’s suddenly my best mate. “Costs me a small fortune in university fees, rent, and holidays. How anyone can live these days on minimum wage...”

  This guy should get a gold medal for depressing speeches, and I find myself slipping farther down the wall. “What are you getting at?”

  “I guess I’m saying I understand. No, I empathise with why you might have forgotten to return Tamara her necklace. Ten thousand pounds, well, that’s life-changing money.”

  “I didn’t steal it!”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he tells me. “I’m just saying how it will look to everyone else, especially after that unfortunate incident with Jack. I don’t suppose – Bill, is it? – will be able to return to work anytime soon.”

  All the time he talks, he keeps looking down at his papers, finding more and more facts from my past to beat me into submission. If he was really smart, he’d realise he’s already floored me. “Are you just deliberately trying to piss me off, or is there something you want?”

  For the first time, he smiles. “Mrs Winters is very grateful to you for protecting Tamara.”

  “So she should be.”

  “That’s why she is willing to drop all charges against you.”

  I still don’t relax. After all, he’s still talking like I did steal the bloody necklace and they’re just forgetting about it.

  “And she would also like to give you a reward for the safe return of her gems and to reimburse you for any inconvenience. I have recommended she give you ten percent of the value.”

  A grand? I should be ecstatic, but I’m not. There’s another thing coming. “And?”

  “You do not see Tamara again.”

  I knew it was coming, but it still hit me hard. I don’t know why it should, but it does. She as good as threw me under a bus, but it’s not easy to stop liking someone just because they’ve stopped liking you, or never even liked you in the first place. It was that way with Grace too – almost a year after her death, I’m still mourning her.

  “There’s another condition.”

  I’m done in. I’ve got no fight left in me.

  “The press – you’re not to sell your story!”

  “What kind of idiot do you take me for?” The hurt spills out of me in hot, uncontrolled anger. “I’d be dead in a week if them two figured out it was me who grassed them up!”

  “I take it you agree to the terms,” he says, unfazed.

  “Too right!” I yell. “Now get me the bloody hell out of here.”

  He turns and leaves. There’s a quick clunking of keys, and I’m locked back in my cell. I wish I had the bow tie and shoelaces now, because if I did, I really would find a way to end it all.

  Sunday Morning I think

  Gary

  Another knock at the door and some more key jangling, and the duty sergeant opens it up.

  “Well, do you want to get out or not?” he growls, standing in the doorway. “Or was that just a sob story about your mate’s brother so we’d go easy on you?”

  I don’t say anything. I can’t be bothered. Everything is too much effort, even reacting.

  “Come on, kid,” says the duty sergeant. “You really don’t want to be here.”

  Something in the way he speaks makes me sit up – don’t know why.

  “Come on,” he repeats, this time tapping his left foot.

  His agitation is starting to make me twitch, and not in a good way. I push myself to my feet, and now I’m sober with the mother of all hangovers, I’m painfully aware how sore my back and ribs are.

  “Now, kid!”

  The second I step out of the cell, I realise why he wanted to get me away. It’s them. Well, one of them. The thin one with the scorpion neck tattoo and kicked-in face.

  “You!” he hisses, but why he’s deciding to pick a fight when he’s under the escort of the biggest policeman I’ve ever seen, I’ve no idea. “I’ll fuckin’ have you.”

  “Yeah, course you will.” Idiot. Even I’m not stupid enough to start a fight in a police station.

  “Cocky shit!” he shouts after me.

  “Cockney shit!” I correct, surprising myself that I’m still bloody funny even with a hangover. “Unlike you, who’s just a pathetic little shit!”

  I don’t even see it coming. He jumps me from behind and I’m on the ground, the little shit hammering his fists into my back and skull. For a few seconds I’m floundering, but I’m twice his size and, spinning round, I get the bastard back with a well-positioned elbow into his already-smashed-in nose.

  His blood splatters my face. He’s hurt. Hurt bad, but he’s so high he’s oblivious to any pain I might have caused him. But he’ll feel it when he comes down from whatever it is he’s on, and I manage to land one more punch before the policemen wade in.

  “I said break it up!” Not sure which policeman said it or pulled Skinny off me, but it was my mate the duty sergeant who dragged me back onto my feet.

  “Come on, you,” he wheezes, shoving me in the direction of the front desk. “You’re taking up valuable cell space.”

  I glance over my shoulder at Skinny, who is being dragged backwards by two cops. Once again, he’s come off worse, but it’s me who can’t stop shaking.

  “You’re dead!” Skinny hisses, his face dripping blood. “Dead, do you hear me?”

  I give him the finger, show I’m not scared, but my stomach’s still churning. Something about that guy really freaks me out, and keeping close to the duty sergeant, I follow him out the front to collect my money and get the hell out of here.

  Sunday 10:00 a.m.

  Tammy

  “He’s out,” says Paula, opening up the door. “He’s just signing for his belongings.”

  Heart pounding in my chest, I leap to my feet. “Is he okay?” I gasp. “Did he ask for me?”

  “He’s with your lawyer,” she explains. “But Ta
mmy, I don’t think it’s a good –”

  “I need to see him.” I’m halfway down the hall when Paula seizes my arm.

  “Hang on.”

  “What’s wrong?” Something in her eyes sends me reeling into panic, and those butterflies start going crazy again.

  “There was some trouble.” Keeping a firm grip on my shoulders and speaking to me like I’m a five-year-old with learning difficulties, she forces me to look at her. “Gary got into a bit of a fight and...”

  I don’t wait to hear any more. Imagining the worst, I tear myself free and race down the hall to the front desk. When I see him, the shock sends me tottering backwards. “Gary!”

  Standing alongside Nick, head and shoulders drooping, he turns to face me, and I freeze. His beautiful face immediately distorts into a hate-filled mask, the bruise on his face is now as jet as his hair, blood splatters his shirt, and his right hand is all bound up. But it isn’t his injuries that will haunt me for the rest of my life; it’s the way he looks at me, eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, and I know now he’s told the police the truth.

  Crumbling in on myself, I silently plead with him to love me again, but the warmth I crave never returns to his delicious chocolate-brown eyes. Turning away, he picks up a pen and begins to sign paper after paper Nick hands him.

  “Gary.” I rush forward a second time, but Paula won’t let go.

  “I don’t think now’s the time.” She can see too just how much he hates me. “Call him later when he’s had chance to calm down.”

  “No.” I can’t let him go. I need to make him understand. Giving myself a Chinese burn in the process, I pull myself free. Flinging my arms around Gary’s neck, I bury my face in his chest.

  “I’m so sorry.” I hold him with all my might and soak his shirt with my tears, but he just stands there, body trembling, like he’s fighting an internal battle within himself whether to hug me back.

  “I really am, but it doesn’t matter, does it, because everything’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” I’m on a knife edge waiting for him to wrap his arms around me again, and in a panic, I start to talk faster and faster. “They let you go. And everything’s going to be okay because Nick sorted everything out. He told me. Nothing’s going to happen to you and now –” I sense Gary’s muscles relax, and my heart leaps for joy. Relishing the warmth of his body against mine, I wait for him to hug me back, but his embrace never comes. Instead, he unhooks my arms from around his neck and, taking a step back, puts a million miles between us.

  “Gary?” A hot poker of pain sears my heart. “Gary, I’m sorry.” I reach out for his forgiveness, but he swerves to avoid my hand as if it’s a poisonous snake.

  “Just stay away from me,” he says in a broken and feeble voice.

  “I can’t,” I stammer, fresh tears spilling down my face. “I want to be with you.”

  He shakes his head and slumps forward, and once again I think he’s going to come back to me, but when he looks up, his eyes are the colour of blood. “I’ve just spent half the night being quizzed by cops because of you!”

  “I’m sorry,” I stammer.

  “They took me away in handcuffs!” he yells, spitting the words at me. “But I thought, ‘That’s all right, because as soon as they speak to Tammy, they’ll realise it was just a misunderstanding, and let me go.’”

  I feel awful, I really do. The guilt is burning me, and had the chief inspector dragged me back in for questioning, I would have confessed everything. I’d have put it up on Facebook to get Gary back.

  “I don’t think this is the place to discuss such matters,” says Nick, placing a hand on Gary’s shoulder.

  “PISS OFF!”

  Nick jumps back as Gary shakes himself free and reaches for his keys.

  “You don’t need your bloody contracts!” he hisses, ripping up the papers he’s just signed and stamping on them. “I never want to see her or any of you ever again!”

  “You’ll forfeit everything.” Nick may sound tough and composed, but I notice he keeps well away.

  “I don’t give a shit!” Gary roars, turning to leave.

  I look to Nick for an explanation, but he’s giving nothing away. Realising he has something to do with turning Gary against me, I run after him. “Gary, wait!”

  He stops in the middle of the car park and whirls round. “What part of ‘I don’t want to see you again’ don’t you understand?”

  I tremble in the force of his anger, my insides quaking. “I didn’t have anything to do with Nick.”

  “No?” Head tilted to one side, he is sarcastic and spiteful. “So what he told the cops, about you just getting ‘hassled by two guys,’ that it was ‘no big deal’ – that was his lie, was it?”

  I shrink back. What else can I say except... “Sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry at all,” he sneers. “You’ve got what you want. I played the role of boyfriend so your stupid friends didn’t realise what a sad loser you really are, and now you’re best of friends with Carrie and the other stupid bitches, you don’t need me at all!”

  “You’ve got it all wrong.” I can’t listen to the hurt in his voice any more. It’s killing me. “I didn’t realise –”

  “Oh, you knew what you were doing, all right!” He takes a step forward so I can see just how much I’ve hurt him. “You’re just like all the others. Did you and your mates have a good laugh when the cops dragged me off?”

  “I didn’t get you arrested!” It wasn’t my fault. “You jumped the ticket barrier.”

  “Because I needed the money to take you out!” He stops shouting and starts pacing up and down, back and forth, up and down. Once again I think he’s forgiven me, but he hasn’t, he’s just too hurt to talk.

  I can’t bear it. I need to hold him, show him just how much I love him, but he jumps back again, like he’s scared of me.

  “I thought you liked me!” His face just inches from mine, each hate-filled word shakes me to the core. “I lied to the police because I don’t want to get you into trouble. I spent the night being paraded around like some stupid prized poodle, and I put my neck on the line grassing up them thugs!”

  I fall back and hug myself as I realise what a bitch I’ve been, the shock sending ripples of panic through me.

  “I thought you were different,” he continues, the pain still pouring out of him. “But you’re just like Grace!”

  “Grace?”

  “Yeah. I thought she loved me, but she didn’t. I was just an extra hundred quid so she could pay the bloody rent!”

  I don’t know what he is talking about, so I just let him get it all out, trying to make sense of it all, lost in some distant memory that is all controlling.

  “I never left Grace’s side. I gave up my place at university to look after her. Bill – he didn’t do nothing. He was nowhere to be seen when there was puke and piss to mop up. I did it all, and do you know what she did?”

  I shake my head, fighting the urge to hug him and take some of his pain away.

  “She sent me away!” he tells me, the anguish he feels overshadowing his physical injuries. “When she died, she wanted Bill with her, and I was sent away!”

  I don’t know who Grace was. I guess she must have been his girlfriend, and I envied, hated, and pitied her all at the same time. Envied her because she had Gary; hated her for rejecting him; and pitied her because like me, she’d lost him.

  I glance over my shoulder as I sense we’re no longer alone and see Nick and the policeman watching. They both look concerned, but when they see Gary sit on the pavement, face buried in his hands, I guess they must take pity on him, and they head back inside the station.

  “They all bloody leave me!” Drawing his knees into his chest, Gary starts rocking, no longer angry – just sad, trapped in his past. “My mum, my gran – they all left...”

  I listen, desperate to learn everything about the guy I have given my heart to, because even though he was the centre of my life from the moment I met hi
m, he is still a stranger. Sitting alongside him on the curb, I reach out and touch his arm, and when he doesn’t shake me off, I relax and relish the smooth firmness of his skin.

  “Then when Grace...” he breaks off and looks at me, really looks at me through his tears, and once again I feel the spark as our souls connect. “I’d never been so happy, I mean...”

  I smile at him to let him know he can continue talking about her. I don't mind. I’m just glad we are friends again.

  “You really do look like a princess,” he says, his brown eyes refusing to release mine.

  I tremble, only this time it is from desire as he leans forward to kiss me. I gasp in anticipation and close my eyes so I know only the warm pleasure of his lips on mine. Then my eyes fly open as I sense him moving away.

  “I can’t do this,” he says, getting to his feet. “I’ve got other stuff in my life, you know, besides you.”

  “Gary?”

  He looks down at me, a strange mixture of fear and anger painted amongst the bruises on his face. “I’ve had enough of being left. This time I’ve got to be the one doing the leaving!”

  When I realise he means he’s leaving me, it knocks all the wind out of me. Gasping for breath, I try to scramble to my feet as he walks farther and farther away from me.

  “Gary, come back.” Casting my stupid shoes aside, I run after him, grabbing his arm to try to stop him leaving. “Please, give me another chance.”

  He whirls around, and to my horror, the hate has taken possession of him again. “I don’t care what you want,” he hisses, taking his arm back. “I’m done caring about other people. Now LEAVE ME ALONE!”

  I knew from the moment I set eyes on him he’d hurt me far more than those thugs ever could. My heart is bleeding from a million lacerations, but it’s not my torment that makes me double up in agony – it’s his. I hurt for him, and I hurt for the pain I have inflicted on him. How could I have been so cruel to the best thing that ever happened to me?

  Sunday 11:00 a.m.