I wanted to launch myself at her. I’d never wanted to hurt someone as much as I wanted to hurt her in that moment, but my anger bubbled over into tears. I clenched and unclenched my fists, struggling to control the tremors that wracked my body.
“Look, why don’t you sit and take a moment to calm down?” she said. “I’ll go make us both a nice cup of tea, and we can?—”
I turned and left her room, letting the door bang behind me. Within seconds, the door was flung open again. She leaned on the doorjamb watching as I struggledto pick up my things, the wet blanket dripping onto the floor.
“You’re being unreasonable, Catherine. I’m trying to?—”
I stood, letting everything fall from my arms.
Then I was in her face, inches from her. The last time I’d been this close to her, very different emotions had been sparking between us.
Francesca didn’t pull back; she stared me down. I could feel the rage contorting my features; if there’d been a mirror, I wouldn’t have recognised myself.
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word came out in a low growl, a guttural sound laced with a venom I hadn’t known I possessed.
“That’s not what you really want, though.” Her voice was a soft caress, and she traced her fingers up my arms, the touch feather-light at first, then tightening into a possessive grip around my biceps. “I know you, Catherine. I know you better than anyone ever has or ever will.”
I looked into her eyes, flickering with a disturbing mix of darkness and desire, and it sent a shiver of revulsion through me. The desire — that was the dangerous part, the siren song that had lured me in for so long. Now, looking at her, all I felt was the bitter sting of regret.
“I was stupid to think I was in love with you.” The words escaped before I had a chance to stop them. She flinched as they landed on her harder than a physical blow.
I lifted my palms to her chest and pushed her. Shestumbled backwards, her mask slipping as genuine shock registered on her face.
“You’re completely deranged. I meant what I said. Stay away from me, Francesca.”
I gathered my things into my room and bolted the door shut. The small space felt suffocating, but finally alone, the tension broke, and I slid to the floor, wincing.
I couldn’t live like this. In the morning, I would go to Student Services and request an urgent transfer to different accommodation.
But in the morning, I didn’t have to.
Francesca had already gone.
22
EVEN AFTER EVERYTHING
PRESENT DAY
By the time Thursday rolled around, exhaustion had seeped into Catherine’s bones. Spiralling thoughts and anxieties had triggered a bad bout of insomnia, which meant instead of sleeping she’d sat up sipping chamomile and doing the Sappho puzzle.
With a satisfying click, she’d slotted the last piece into place at around 5 a.m. She snapped a photo and texted it to Penny, who replied with an aubergine emoji and said,
Penny:
Marvellous, but you really need to get laid, babe x
As Catherine chuckled at the message and rolled Sappho away, the ceiling creaked, bringing her back to the present. Despite sharing an entranceway and assuming they’d bump into each other all the time, she hadn’t seen Jules since the other morning at Snoots.
Now, she smiled and cocked her head to listen out forthe soft, padded sounds of her new neighbour moving around above her.Penny’s right; you really do need to get laid.
Catherine mentally berated herself for being a creep and committed to an extra lap of the park as penance, although her morning walk was hardly a punishment. The clear sky beyond the puffy cloud breaks hinted at a bright day ahead, but the air was dewy and still cool, so she set off at a quick pace to get her blood pumping. She mindfully focused on the chirps and whistles of birdsong, a big dog’s deep bark, followed by an answering yap from a smaller breed.
Heavy-breathing runners sped past, Lycra shuffling and stretching across rippling muscles. Further along the path, a flock of women power-walked in a synchronised sashay, their matching pink jackets identifying them as the Stroll Sisters. Catherine gave a small nod as they passed. She’d once contemplated signing up, but pink really wasn’t her colour, and she enjoyed the solitude of her morning walks — this was always the calm before the storm of a day ahead, full of complex people and their complex problems.
On the way home, she couldn’t resist the draw of Snoots. Admittedly, it wasn’t just the coffee pulling her in, but the hope that she might bump into Jules again.
Tomorrow. You have a date with her tomorrow. Christ — tomorrow!
