‘I reckon that’s an understatement.’ I sigh, trying to work out why Tom would do something like this.
Looking back, he took our break-up far worse than I expected him to, and seemed genuinely upset and reluctant to leave the flat. Then a couple of days after he left, I started receiving phone calls in the middle of the night from an anonymous caller. Someone was breathing heavily – it was really creepy and made me feel very uncomfortable, but I knew it was him. Who else could it be? I didn’t want to pour oil on troubled waters though and, when I told Jas and the others, we all came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do was to ignore the calls.
‘If you phone him up to tell him to stop, then you’re giving him the attention he craves,’ Jas had said, ‘so he’ll just keep on doing it.’
So after that I’d just turn off my phone when I went to bed. But then, one night, at about 3 a.m., I was woken up by this shuffling, snuffling noise outside. It was really weird; it sounded like someone sniffing at the front door. I sat up in bed, the hair ends of my scalp prickling, until whatever, or whoever, it was left. After about twenty minutes, it seemed to stop, but by then I was in tears, petrified. I thought about calling the police, but would they take me seriously if I called them to say I’d heard sniffing around my front door? After all, it might have been just that. One of my neighbours has a dog, it could have been him. But I’ve never heard it before or since.
The heavy-breathing calls were scary enough, but this was just plain creepy, so I called Tom the next day. Of course he denied it. He also ranted down the phone that he was glad he’d left and I was mad, then he’d told me I was obviously too scared to live on my own and he hoped I was sorry.
As Jas said when I told her, ‘That sounds like a confession to me, babe.’ Anyway, she suggested I go and stay with her until he’d calmed down. I don’t think Tom would have ever done anything crazy, but Jas was right in warning, ‘People who get hurt get dangerous.’
‘Come and live in my house,’ she’d said. ‘No one would dare call me up late and ruin my beauty sleep – and as for someone sniffing at my door, well no one’s done that since 2008!’
That had made me laugh. That’s one of the best things about Jas – she can always make me laugh.
So I moved out of my flat and into Jas’s for a few weeks. She risked her own safety to have me at her place, and I’ll never forget that. And even though she isn’t exactly excited about my new relationship, I mustn’t forget how good she’s been in the past.
But it didn’t solve the problem with Tom. He clearly couldn’t find me at the flat and I’d blocked him on my phone, so he started calling the office, trying to get Margaret to put him through. But she’d been forewarned, so politely fobbed him off. Soon, he started calling Harry, and even Sameera, to ask them if I was okay and if they thought I might take him back. The last time that happened was months ago, and I really thought he had moved on, but it looks like he’s still bitter.
Jas takes the roses and throws them in the bin, but I keep the note, I might need it if things continue. I’m so upset, this is just so weird, but since Tom and I broke up I’ve seen a different side to him. Just goes to show, people can surprise you – even people you think you know.
Chapter Six
It’s 7.30 by the time I finally call it a day, and what a day, but even so, I feel guilty, because Jas is still here, and Harry’s working late too. He’s just taken a call from Gemma, who seems to be giving him a hard time.
‘I won’t be too long. I know, I know,’ he’s saying in a placatory tone.
I give Harry a sympathetic look as I stand up to leave, and he nods back and rolls his eyes.
‘Will you be here much longer?’ I ask after he puts down the phone.
He just shrugs. ‘I don’t know. It just seems to have gone mad, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah, Jas’s here late too.’ I nod in the direction of her office.
‘She’s not working though,’ he says.
I’m surprised. ‘Oh, so why is she still here?’
‘Well, when I went in about ten minutes ago, she was trawling through a load of guys’ photos on her phone. I reckon she’s looking for a hot date.’
‘She told me she’d had it with men.’
He laughs. ‘She’s always saying that.’
I grab my bag to leave and, walking past her office, I wave.
‘Hey, Hannah, let me walk you to your car,’ she says.
‘I’m not in my car, I’m going to Alex’s. He only lives about fifteen minutes from here, I think. And I don’t want to drive. I might want a drink,’ I add.
‘Yeah, after what happened today I reckon you’ll need one.’ She sighs. ‘Do you want a lift to Alex’s?’
‘No, I’m fine, I need to call in at the shop on the way.’
‘I’m just worried in case that tosser Tom’s hanging around.’
‘No, he’s a coward, Jas, he’ll be long gone, probably rubbing his hands together after ruining my day. But I won’t let him ruin my night. Although when I get hold of the creep…’
‘That’s my girl,’ she says, waving as I head for the door.
I’m done with Tom, and work and worry now. My day was ruined, but I won’t let him spoil my evening – the rest of tonight is about me and Alex.
I step out into the chilly autumn evening. It’s the start of November already and it feels like we arrive at work in the dark and leave in the dark – and tonight it’s bloody dark. And cold. I wrap my parka around me, pulling up my hood as it starts to spit with rain. I was hoping to go home, have a shower and get changed before I went to Alex’s, but I don’t have time. Nor did I have the foresight to bring any make-up or extra clothes with me to work in case I had to stay late. I can’t believe I’m going to meet Alex, for only the third time, wearing my work clothes and with the remains of the day on my face. So I call him to check it’s still okay to come over as it’ll be close to 8 p.m. by the time I get to his. Also, he needs to be warned that the glamorous woman he went out with the other night won’t be turning up this evening.
‘Hey, Alex. It’s late – I’ve only just finished, are you still sure about tonight?’
‘Of course. Are you heading over now?’
‘Yes, if that’s okay?’ My old insecurities kick in. Is he just being polite, surely not?
‘It’s wonderful,’ he says, in a husky, urgent voice that warms me.
‘I just didn’t want to put you to any—’
‘I made your favourite, pistachio ice cream.’
I’m so touched by this. ‘Well, how can I resist? You had me at ice cream,’ I say and he laughs. ‘But, Alex, I’m warning you, I look like a dog and I need a shower.’
‘Now you’re just trying to get me all excited,’ he jokes.
‘Mmm, if you’re sure you want to enjoy a third date with an un-showered woman falling asleep at the table in her work clothes…?’
‘Sounds perfect, just how I like my third dates.’