‘I didn’t want to come. I wanted to go home. I still want to go home. I’m calling a cab now.’
She gets to her feet and as she does so, Zach strides towards her and says, ‘No. No, we’re not going anywhere. Not yet.’
He stands close enough for her to smell the chlorine on him, to feel the heat of his breath.
‘I want to go home,’ she says again, a hint of defeat in her voice.
She goes to move past him, but he grabs her arms, hard. ‘Do you know what I was going to do tonight, Lula? Do you have any idea what I was going to do?’ He releases one of her arms and dips his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulls out the small blackbox and shoves it against her breastbone so hard she can already feel a bruise start to form.
‘Ow,’ she says, rubbing at her sternum. ‘That hurt.’
‘Open it,’ he snarls.
She inhales deeply and unclicks the fastening, then stares in numb horror at the tiny nub of diamond glittering at her under the low halogens. There it is, she thinks. There it is. The reason for every last dreadful minute of this evening.
She clicks the box shut again, hands it back to Zach and says, ‘I would have said no.’
The power of her own response leaves her feeling winded.
He rocks slightly. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘Right.’
For a moment, Tallulah thinks maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s done. Maybe her journey with Zach is finally over and it really was as simple as that. But she stares at Zach and sees his expression pass from numb acceptance through confusion and then, quickly, so quickly, into black rage.
‘It’s her, isn’t it?’ he says. ‘This is something to do with her.’
‘Who?’
‘That girl. Scarlett. Ever since she walked into the pub tonight you’ve been on edge. That’s why I came back here. I wanted to see what was going on. So. What’s the deal?’
Tallulah feels something surge through her, like a stampede. ‘We’re together,’ she says bluntly.
Zach’s face contorts into an ugly mask of incomprehension. ‘What?’
‘Me. And Scarlett. We’ve been seeing each other.’
There. It’s done. It’s said. It’s over. Tallulah breathes out heavily and waits.
‘You mean, like …’ He cannot find the words to describe something that he cannot countenance. ‘You and her? Like …’
‘Having sex. Yes.’
‘Oh. Oh my God.’ He stumbles slightly and groans. ‘Oh my God. Oh Jesus. I knew it. Jesus fucking Christ, from the minute I saw that photo on your phone, I knew it. It was so obvious. So, were youhaving sexthen? You and her?’
‘No. God. No. That was only the second time I’d even spoken to her.’
‘But did it start that night?’
‘No. No. Not for ages. Not until you and me started having problems.’
‘What problems? We haven’t been having any problems.’
She blinks at him. She has no idea if he’s being deliberately obtuse or if he genuinely believes this rewriting of their history.
‘Fuck’s sake. Lula. I mean. Fuck’s sake. Withher? Of all the people. She’s not even good-looking. She’s literally ugly.’
‘She’s not ugly. She’s beautiful.’
He clutches his head. ‘This is … this is insane, Lula. This isn’t you. You’re not fucking gay. This is her. She’s done this to you. She’s fucking groomed you. Can you not see that? She’s groomed you.’