‘What?’
‘You know. Smug gits who like to chuck their money about but do fuck all to earn it.’
Barney’s City friends weren’t my cup of tea, but Ned’s chippy attitude made me cringe.
‘This guy wasn’t in a suit. He was ordinary. Small, dark, a little bit like Tom Cruise, although without the glow-in-the-dark teeth.’
‘Really? He looked like that and he was on a speed-date?’
‘I said a little — we’re talking fractions.’ I held up a thumb and finger. ‘He took a shine to my friend Emily. Emailed her a couple of times but she wasn’t interested.’
‘I thought the deal was that you only got paired up if you both ticked boxes.’
Not if you’re related to Barney, I thought, taking great interest in a chip on the base of my glass.
‘Administrative error,’ I said tightly. ‘Emily kept getting emails from this guy. Then he turned nasty.’ I explained about the day of the screensaver and the coincidental timing of the brick through my window.
‘Sorry.’ Ned frowned and shook his head. ‘I don’t buy that coincidence stuff. It doesn’t sound right to me. Let’s face it. He’s a nutter.’
‘Nooo,’ I said, pulling a face. This wasn’t the response I wanted. He was supposed to be on the side of reason and scepticism. Allay my fears, not make them worse. I stared at him, the wine in my stomach rolling uncomfortably.
‘Yeah! No matter how pissed off you are — a normal bloke does not blag his way into an office. Let alone start leavingmessages on computers. That’s psycho territory. You need to tell someone.’
‘Do you think so?’ I asked in a small voice.
‘See that,’ he pointed to the bandages on my arm. ‘Don’t take any more chances. I’d punch the bastard just for the screensaver. If he chucked that brick, you want to make frigging sure he’s not going to do anything else.’
‘But what if wasn’t him?’
He gave an exasperated tut and rolled his eyes. ‘And what if it was him? He knows where you live.’
Fear iced down my spine, the hairs on my arm rising. Ned’s cold, clear male logic made my stomach contract.
‘Do you think I should go to the police?’ I asked.
‘Yes. You want another drink?’
Obviously we’d covered that topic, it was time to move on.
Halfway into my second glass of wine I asked him what had made him go on a speed-date.
He looked sheepish. ‘It was sort of... a challenge. We were down the Nag’s Head. Me and my mates, Graham and Midge.’
I got the impression he spent a lot of time there.
‘We were moaning that none of us had had a sh... girlfriend for ages. My mate, Gram, decided we needed to do something about it. We each had to choose a different method.’
‘Choose?’
He smiled weakly. ‘We wrote on beer mats different ways of finding a bird — I mean girlfriend — then had to pick one out of the hat. Gram got online-dating. I got speed-dating and Midge had to go to a bar to try to pull someone.’
‘Right — and who’s winning?’ I asked, and immediately wished I hadn’t. ‘Sorry, that’s a bit of a leading question, ignore that.’
He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m the only one who’s managed to get a date so far. Why d’you go? You seemwell... quite good-looking...’ He blushed toying with his empty pint glass, ‘and pretty normal.’
‘What and you’re not normal?’ I asked laughing, trying to keep things light, pleased at the ‘good-looking’ bit. He was still fiddling with the empty glass so I asked, ‘Would you like another drink?’
He looked at his watch and almost squirmed in his seat. ‘Erm, wouldn’t mind but not here. Thing is. There’s a match on. Big one. Starts soon and the screen here’s broken. Do you fancy going somewhere else?’
