‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really. But you’re the first girl for a long time. A long, long time.’
Tallulah’s phone buzzes. She looks at it vaguely. It’s another message from Zach.
What the fuck, Tallulah?
It buzzes again. This time it’s a photo. It’s Noah. Zach’s face is pressed close to his and he looks angry.
For a moment Tallulah feels scared. Zach looks like he could hurt Noah. She gets to her feet and then sits down again. No, she thinks, no. Zach would never hurt Noah. Never. He’s just using Noah to control her.
‘You OK?’
‘Yeah. I’m just … my boyfriend.’
‘Is he giving you grief?’
‘Yeah. A bit.’
‘Can’t cope with you having your own life away from him?’
‘That kind of thing.’
Scarlett rolls her eyes. ‘Men,’ she says. ‘They’re such losers.’ She leans forward towards Tallulah and fixes her with her pale grey eyes. ‘Whatever you do,’ she says, ‘don’t let him play you. OK? Stick to your guns. Stay strong.’
Tallulah nods. She’d already decided that that was what she would do.
‘You go to him now, and he’s won, and the next time it’ll be just that bit easier for him to control you. Yeah?’
She nods again.
Scarlett leans back again. ‘Good girl,’ she says. ‘Good girl.’
And as she says these words, Tallulah feels something bubble up inside her, something hot and liquid and raw and red and it rushes from her groin through her heart to her limbs and she jumps to her feet and she strides towards Scarlett and she straddles her with her bare legs against hers, and she kisses her.
31
September 2018
The following morning, Sophie calls her hairdresser in Deptford and makes an appointment for later that day.
‘I’m going into London today,’ she tells Shaun, ‘to get my hair done for the Denmark trip.’
‘Denmark trip?’
‘Yes. I told you. Remember? Next Monday? It’s only for one night.’
He nods, distractedly. ‘Can you not use the hairdresser in the village?’
‘No,’ she says, ‘definitely not. And besides, I’d like to go to London. I might meet someone for lunch. Make a day of it.’
He nods again. ‘That’s nice.’
She suspects that if she asks him again in thirty minutes to tell her what she just told him, he will have no idea.
‘What’s going on with the police today?’ she asks, watching him thread his tie through the back of his shirt collar. ‘Are they coming back?’
‘No idea. I guess I’ll find out once I get to my desk.’