Page 19 of The Tourist

“Nothing’s…the matter. I’m good. I just want you to stop callingme.”

Throughanother small knot of silence, I could hear Calder breathing moreheavily. His voice sharpened. “I’ll call you if I wantto.”

“No.” Oh God. “This stops now.”

“What stops,Ricky?”

Whatindeed? “I don’t want anything to do withyou anymore, Calder. We’re finished, you know we are. We’ve bothmoved on.”

“Ricky.” Hisvoice softened. To my embarrassed shock, I felt my body reacting.“Is that so? I can’t say things have changed that much for me. Letme show you. I’m not far from Fulham. I can be with you inminutes.”

“Calder, forGod’s sake…”

“I canremember every moment together, Ricky. Every touch. Every groan.Every stretch of your sweet arse towards me.”

A rivulet ofsweat tingled between my shoulder blades. “No…”

“Everystrike.”

Everywhat? To my disgust, Iwas half hard, just from the sound of his voice, but there was nopleasure in it. Nausea pooled in my throat. Everystrike? The old ache inmy ribs gave a shudder of remembrance. Calder hit me. Calder hurt me.

“You needcare, Ricky. We were good together. You can’t tell me to stopcalling—”

“No?”

Calder’s voicetightened again. “Ricky, don’t be stupid. You don’t want to dothis.”

Threateningme, now? I watched my fingers fold tightlyaround the phone. “Bye, Calder. And by the way, I’m changingnumbers tomorrow.” And I disconnected.

For a second,the silence seemed to ring in my ears, a sharp hum of memory andecho. Then I heard a drop of water fall in the kitchen sink. A carswept past outside, blaring its horn. My heart thudded and mythroat felt painfully dry.

But I feltgood. Alive. At last, I’d finished it. And it hadn’t been that bad.I just needed to find some balls, just like Dan said…

Dan!

I hit thespeed dial on my phone, eager to talk to him, then quicklydisconnected before speaking. No. That wasn’t good enough. I neededto see him. How long had it been since he left? I was pretty surehe’d make his way back towards the bar and then beyond, goingstraight home. I could catch him up.

So get going!

After grabbingmy jacket, keys and phone, I left the flat. Stepping out into thecool evening air, I instinctively sucked in a slow, deep breath.The street was almost empty of traffic, even fewer pedestrians. IfI cut through the park, I’d be able to catch him up just past thebar. I jogged down the steps, two at a time, leaving the door tothe building to close behind me with a sharp click.

CHAPTER 10

I heard footsteps behind me. Aman’s.

Hey. Not sostrange. It was a public road; a lot of people took this shortcutto the centre of town. But no one had been behind me when I cut offinto the park. I hesitated, then doubled back a short distance andturned abruptly, cutting across a different path around theperimeter.

The footsteps followed me.

I breathedcarefully, though my heartbeat was thudding hard. Matty’s Meetwasn’t far from the park—I could head there, find somewhere open;people still around. Make sure I was safe, before going on toDan’s. I flexed the muscles of my shoulders and curled my hand intoa fist at my side. I should turn around, face whatever and whoeverit was, for God’s sake. It’d just be another guy looking for ashortcut home, or some guy looking for his dog.

And if itwasn’t?

Even if it wasa mugger, I’d take him on. I’d handled ugly drunks at the bar; I’descaped a few homophobic bullies in my teenage years. The situationdidn’t—shouldn’t—hold any fear for me.

But it did. It did.

The suddendebilitating fear was mine, but it was still a shock as it swampedmy senses. Why wouldn’t my mind clear? Why couldn’t I thinkobjectively about this?