“Okay, notwithWill. I was following him.”
Confusion flares up on his forehead and camps there. The frustration is still present, but it seems lighter than it was a moment before. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I was following him.” It’s silly of me to be this glib, but I’mnot sure how else to deliver the news. “Look, I just…I just wanted to see if I could get a better sense of why he’s doing this to us.”
“So you stalked him? Nat, I surely don’t have to tell you how irresponsible that is.”
“He didn’t see me.”
The innocent act doesn’t seem to be working, because James is now on his feet, pacing the living room. “Jesus Christ, Nat. I thought we were done with the crazy. You’re officially not a violent psychopath. Great! Fan-fucking-tastic news. But now you’re stalking people?”
I’m more than a little put out. “Person.”
He stops in his tracks. “What?”
“Person. I’m only stalking the one person. And it was only a onetime thing.”
He looks at me, incredulous. “My god, Natalie. What is wrong with you?”
This one cuts deep. He watches me recoil as if he’s physically struck me. It almost hurts just as much. I don’t know what to say to him, so instead I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them. He’s soon beside me, arm around my shoulders.
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m—”
“No, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. I’m not normal.” I wish I was, but I don’t think I know how to be.
James plants a kiss on my head, holds me tighter. We search for what to say next. He gets there first.
“So what did you see, exactly?” he asks.
I pull away so that I can look at him properly. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you spent the day following my brother. What did you see?”
I pick at a bit of loose skin on my thumb. I like that it hurts. “Not much. Gym, coffee shop, chemist. But, James, before he went to the pub—”
“Wait—he’s still drinking?”
“Yeah, I took a photo. In case you need to fob him off a while longer about starting to work again.”
He half smiles, covering his mouth with a hand. “Don’t take me smiling as encouragement.” I do anyway, and he knows it. “This is useful. He’s broken our terms. I’ll figure out a way to deal with it without incriminating you, but that’s it. He’s not coming back.”
“There’s more. He went to the pharmacy section of the chemist. Does he take medication for anything?”
James stops, thinks. “Well, he struggles with anxiety sometimes, I guess. He’s got a prescription. Valium, I think.”
“Oh.”
I try to keep my face passive, try not to show how I’m storing this piece of information away.
“And is that it?”
“No. I think Vanessa’s kicked him out. He’s not staying in the family house anymore.”
“Probably serves him right.”
