“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked with increasing concern and confusion.
“Yes, fine, really.” She sniffed back tears and reverted back to trying to sound positive again.
“Okay, darling, if you’re sure. I’ll call you later.”
After hanging up she stared at her phone in her hand.
“You appear to have forgotten to tell Jon that you’ve had the back of your head split open, your nose punched and your cheek and eye blackened by your ex-boyfriend. Oh, and that you were told not to stay on your own, which was fine when you assured me Jon would stay with you tonight,” chastened Charlie.
“Charlie, I am fine, really.”
“Come and stay at ours, please. I’m worried about you and you really shouldn’t be alone.”
“Charlie, I love you, but you worry too much. I will be fine, honestly,” she said trying to convince him that she would be, but as she looked at his face it was obvious that he was far from convinced.
“If I feel unwell in any way I promise I will call my dad or one of my sisters and go and stay with them, but I really just want to go home to bed and lick my wounds in the privacy of my own home.”
“I will be phoning to check up on you and Lindsay will.”
“That’s fine.” She smiled at him and remembered all of the reasons why she’d dated him in the first place. “You really are a very nice man.”
Steph had changedinto candy striped, shorty pyjamas and gone to bed, just as she’d told Charlie she would. The problem was that she couldn’t get comfortable; she couldn’t lie on her back because of her glued head that was sore and swollen, she found lying on her right side painful as it was the right cheek and eye that was becoming more bruised with each passing minute and as she never slept on her front that only left her with the option of sleeping on her left side, but she could only settle in that position fleetingly, so decided to get up.
She grabbed a glass and was just about to pour a large glass of wine when she remembered that she had been given some painkillers at the hospital, so put the glass away and made some tea. Sitting on the sofa with her tea she began to watch a romantic comedy on the TV that had just started when her phone rang again.
“Hi, darling,” came the familiar sound of Jon’s voice. “Change of plan again. I will be with you in about, ooh five seconds,” he said as she heard a key in the door, which was a shock on two levels. Firstly she wasn’t expecting him and secondly she had no idea that he had a key to her flat.
“No!” she shouted panicking. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she cried, still speaking into her phone.
“No, there was something you needed to tell me hours ago,” he said from behind her, sounding a little annoyed.
She turned slightly from the left side, “Sorry, but . . .”
“Fucking hell, Steph!” he shouted as he moved round and saw the extent of the damage to her face. “Oh darling, why didn’t you call me straight away? Let me see the back of your head.” He was already leaning over her. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he saw the size of the cut to her head.
Sitting next to her, Jon wrapped his arms around Steph, holding her tightly while she simply sniffed back tears. Neither of them spoke for several long minutes.
“I am seriously pissed off with you for not telling me that this had happened, but I really am relieved that you’re okay. You should call the police though, darling,” Jon said seriously, but without the annoyance of earlier.
“No, it wasn’t quite as it seems. I actually did this to myself.” Her claim sounded implausible even to her own ears.
“To yourself? So Simon wasn’t sitting in your car with you after following you from the supermarket to Charlie’s and he wasn’t being a complete arse and grabbing you and bullying you until you ended up in this state?” His anger was reinstated now, although she knew it was aimed at Simon and not her.
“That’s not quite what I meant.” She tried to bury the good side of her face into his chest at the same time as curling her legs beneath her.
“You should have called me though, Steph. This is not something I expect to find out about from somebody else.” With his tone calmer, he gently kissed the top of her head.
“Did Charlie call you?”
“Yes, he was worried about you being alone after you refused to go back to his or call a member of your family, especially as the hospital said not to stay on your own in case of concussion.”
“Sorry.” A loud yawn sounded around them as Steph fought the call of sleep and tried to figure out what she was sorry for.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked curiously, his voice softening further.
“Because I thought you’d be mad that I had put myself in that position in the first place and I didn’t want to cause you any hassle by phoning you and I knew that you were busy with work,” she explained honestly and yawned again.
“I’m not thrilled that you gave him the time of day. You couldn’t have known how it would turn out, but no more, Stephanie. If he so much as appears coincidentally in the same crowded shopping centre as you, we involve the police or at least solicitors. And you could never be a hassle to me.” She attempted to interrupt.
