Second Life

I take the tube. I’m thinking back to Lukas’s last message. Who would I bring, anyway? Does he think I know someone who could be trusted with this? A

I emerge from the tube station into the clear light of a su

I check my phone again. I’m here, more or less, the corner of Ke

I light a cigarette, my third of the day. I guess this means I’ve started smoking again. I inhale. Hold. Exhale. Its rhythms calm me, even in these desperate circumstances; I can’t believe how much I’ve missed it. I look at my watch.

I’m late. He’s even later, I think, but then I feel his gaze burning into me and I know. He’s here, out of sight, watching me.

Suddenly I see him approach. He’s in front of me, wearing a blue parka jacket. He’s walking slowly, his head up. I’m aware my hands are shaking. Instinctively I put my hand in my pocket, feel for my phone, just as I’ve been practising. By the time he’s level with me I’m ready, composed. For a long moment we stare at each other, then he speaks.

‘Hello, Julia.’ He glances at what I’m wearing: jeans, a sweater, my Converse trainers. I tell myself not to react. I mustn’t let him make me angry. I’m here to find out exactly what he wants, to make him stop.

I notice the red mark on his cheek. I open my mouth to speak when he lunges for me. He grabs my arm, I yelp.

‘What the—?’ I begin, but he silences me. His grip is strong, and then he kisses me on the cheek. It’s rough, unpleasant, yet brief. Even so, every part of my body reacts powerfully, reflexively. I pull away.

‘For old time’s sake. Come on.’

He tries to direct me down Goding Street, towards the arches under the railway. A street of bike shops and storerooms, the shuttered rear entrances of the bars and clubs of the Albert Embankment. I resist. ‘What’s down there?’ I say, my voice high and anxious. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Somewhere quiet,’ he says.

I have visions of being found, my neck broken, bleeding, gutted like one of Hugh’s patients. I have to remind myself again that he didn’t kill Kate, that I mustn’t let him see my fear. Whatever else he did, he didn’t do that. I repeat it like a mantra.

I shake my arm free. I could run, I think. Into the pub, though its shuttered windows suggest it might not be open.

‘Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Just stay away from me.’ I’m shaking with fear, my voice is unsteady. ‘We can talk here—’

‘You want me to stay away from you?’ He looks incredulous. ‘I want you to stay away from me, and from A

I stare at him. We’re both totally still, as if locked in stalemate, then I speak. ‘No,’ I say. ‘No.’

‘So, you’re the one who won’t leave me alone.’ He points to his cheek. ‘I mean, look at this. Crazy. You’re crazy.’

The wound has healed, more or less. It’s superficial. Soon it won’t be visible at all.

‘You did that.’

He laughs. ‘Are you mad? I brought the knife down with me to protect myself, not so that I could stab myself! I didn’t know you were going to lose it and try to grab it out of my hand …’

‘No. No, no …’ I take a step back. I remind myself why I’m here. To protect Co

‘What?’

‘The bowling alley. He told me.’

He laughs. ‘You’re crazier than I thought! So keep away from me, okay? Or else—’

‘Or else what?’

‘Haven’t you worked it out yet? I can do anything. Anything at all … Hugh? A

‘You’re wrong.’ I try to keep my voice steady. I want it to have a strength I don’t feel. I want him to think I’m telling the truth. ‘You think I care, but I don’t. Hugh and I are only staying together because of Co

‘Anyone?’

I nod.

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘How about Co

I try not to recoil, but I can’t help it. He sees it.

‘Co

‘Oh, don’t worry. Me and Co

I feel a chill. What does he mean? Is there something else, something I don’t know about? Again the fear comes, that he’s got something to do with Evie. I have to remind myself that Hugh’s spoken to her, in real life. He’s heard her voice. It can’t be Lukas. I have to remember that.

‘You don’t scare me.’

‘Don’t you get it? You and me? It was fun while it lasted. But now I just want what’s owed to me. You have to back off. I’m having my fun with someone else. You have to get it into your stupid head that it’s over.’

I’m shocked. ‘A

‘There are lots of different types of games, you know …’

He’s a few feet away, a little further than arm’s length. It might not be close enough. I step towards him. I raise my voice.

‘What’re you doing with A

He’s smiling. It’s an answer in itself, but I want to hear him say it.

‘What are you doing with her? I know this is about the money, my sister’s money, but why involve her?’

He leans in. ‘How else was I going to get close to you?’

I remember why I’ve come here.

‘You don’t love her? You’ve never loved her?’

I’m careful to phrase it as a question. It takes him only a moment to reply.

‘Me? Love A