by Ellis, Kay
The window of the salon was gone, and Stef stood inside the now empty frame, frozen to the spot in a sea of broken glass. Blood speckled his face and trickled down his right arm, but he didn’t seem to be badly hurt. He lifted his wide, frightened eyes to mine, and the tears began to fall.
“Alex…”
“Stay there, baby. Don’t move.”
The broken glass would slice through the thin canvas of his Converses like a knife through butter, and cut his feet. I stepped through the opening, glass crunching beneath my heavy boots, and swept Stef up into my arms.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I got you.”
I carried him free of the shattered glass and set him back on his feet at the back of the shop. His colleagues and the customer grabbed Stef and pulled him away from me, staring at me like I had two heads.
Stef looked up at me, bottom lip quivering.
“Why did you have to do it, Alex?” he said.
7
Everybody stared at me, like they were actually expecting me to answer Stef’s question. In turn, I stared at Stef, waiting for him to take back what he just said. I mean – what the ever-loving fuck? Why would he say something like that? Why make out I was responsible for breaking the window? Now, he was cowering behind his workmates, and making out like he was scared shitless of me. They all looked at me like I was scum, and he stood back and let them. Okay, he must have had a fright when the window smashed and showered him with glass, but he knew me. He knew I would never do anything to hurt him.
Stef’s eyes went wide at something over my shoulder. I knew what happened next, even before I turned and saw the two police officers heading my way.
“Everyone okay?” one of the officers asked, surveying the damage. “Anybody hurt?”
“Stefan was hit by flying glass,” one of the women said. I recognised her as Stef’s manager. Her name was Fiona, if I remembered correctly. Or, maybe she was Jenny and Fiona was the girl who washed hair. It didn’t matter either way. At the end of the day, she was another one who pretended to like me for Stef’s sake, when really she couldn’t stand the sight of me. “It’s a miracle the brick missed him.”
The second officer stepped away to speak into his radio. Stef looked a little panicked at the mention of an ambulance, but then he’d hated hospitals ever since my old gang had snuck into my room and tried to end me while I was unconscious. He’d damn near killed himself trying to protect me, so his dislike was understandable. He was bleeding, however, and I wanted him to go and get his cuts checked out. The wounds might look small and insignificant, but he needed to be sure there were no slivers of glass in there.
“Anyone see what happened?” the first officer asked.
“Yes, I most certainly did!” Fiona/Jenny spoke up, shooting me an accusatory look. “It was him. He did it.”
“You’re a lying bitch!” I spat. “You can’t have seen anything, because I didn’t do it.”
The policeman looked me up and down, assessing me. I knew what he was thinking. Would I go quietly? Could he take me down if I chose to resist? Should he call for back up, taking into consideration I was probably twice his size?
“And you are?” he asked, his confidence taking a small boost from the return of his colleague.
“He’s Stefan’s ex-boyfriend,” Fiona/Jenny said, looking at me as though I gave her a bad taste in her mouth. “He’s been harassing him for weeks. They just had an argument out the front here. That’s why he threw a brick through the window.”
“What the fuck? I’m not his ex, I’m his fiancé. We’re getting married. Stef, tell them.”
Stef shook his head, tears pouring down his face as he retreated further behind his own personal wall of protective workmates. What the hell was happening? I didn’t understand any of this, or why Stef was basically hanging me out to dry. I wanted to go to him, make him tell me what it was I’d supposedly done to make him turn on me, but even my big, thick head knew I wouldn’t get anywhere near him. That bitch manageress would probably stab me with her hairdressing scissors if I took so much as a step in his direction.
“Sir, I think you should come with us,” the copper said, taking a hesitating step toward me. “We’ve got a few questions for you down at the station.”
“Stef,” I said again, thinking that he loved me, and he wouldn’t let this happen. He knew how I felt about the police, especially those who were trying to arrest me. Obviously, I was kidding myself, though, because Stef stayed hidden behind his friends and offered no help or support at all.
“Fine,” I told the policeman. “I’ll come with you, but no cuffs.”
“You don’t call the shots,” the second one said. “We do, and we need to cuff you for…”
“If I see even a hint of handcuffs,” I growled, fixing him with my deadliest stare, “I will break every bone in the arm holding it. Or… I could just walk behind you like a good little boy. Your choice.”
“I think that would probably be the most sensible option,” the first cop said quickly, even while his partner bristled and looked like he’d rather take his chances with a broken arm than give in and let me have the last say. “No need to cause more of a scene than we already have, eh?”
I said nothing to that, not knowing if it would be seen as an admission of guilt. I’d been through it all before. Knew the drill. Keeping schtum was par for the course. They had nothing on me. Nothing to charge me with. All I had to do was keep my big mouth shut, stay out of trouble, and they’d have to let me go. Then, like it or not, Stef would be giving me some bloody answers.
I maintained my silence all the way to the station, and through the booking procedure. Refusing to react or respond was my way of sticking the middle finger to the bastards. It didn’t bother me that they locked me in a holding cell while I waited for a duty solicitor although it did piss me off that they made me leave my boots outside the door. What did they think? That I was going to hang myself with my laces over a broken shop window? I’d been in trouble for worse without killing myself, so I wasn’t likely to cave this time – especially as I hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place.
When the duty solicitor finally arrived, what felt like an eternity later, I was escorted to an interview room. I wasn’t surprised to see some nervous, spotty faced kid who didn’t look old enough to shave. He was smart though. I always thought I’d been good at hiding my thoughts and feelings, but this kid saw through me like glass. He took one look at the doubtful expression on my face and rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry. I’m older than I look. I assure you I’m qualified, Mr. Gill.”
“Sure you are.” I dropped into the plastic chair at the table, and folded my arms across my chest as I glared at him. “So, come on then, do your stuff and get me out of here.”
“Okay, it might not be that straight forward, given what they have on you.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “They’ve got nothing on me.”
“Apparently, there’s a witness…”
“She’s lying.”
“Why would she lie?” He shot me a doubtful look across the table, and then sighed. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, Alec, and we’ll take it from there.”
“Alex.”
“Sorry, what?”
“My name. It’s Alex, not Alec.”
Turned out that being called the wrong name shit was really annoying. Who knew? Well, Rufus probably had an idea, but the whole point of doing it with him was because it amused me to piss him off. It wasn’t so funny when someone did it to me.
“Of course. I apologise.” Absent mindedly, he picked at a spot on his chin, and glanced at the file on the table in front of him. “Anyway, let’s get back to today, shall we? You had an argument with your ex-girlfriend – Stephanie, isn’t it? – and then you threw a brick through the window of the shop where she works.”
“Are you for real?” I stared at him, feeling my anger rising, and knowing it wouldn’t do either of us any good if I le
t my temper get the better of me. This guy had to be taking the mickey, though. He had my fucking file right there in front of him, and he still couldn’t get any of the details right.
“Now what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding exasperated, like I was the one causing the problem.
“First of all,” I said stiffly, “I have a boyfriend, not a girlfriend. His name is Stefan, not bloody Stephanie. And he’s not my ex. We’re still very much together. That’s before we get onto the fact there wasn’t an argument, and it wasn’t me who smashed the fucking window.”
“Look, I’m doing my best to help you here. I don’t see how I can do that if you’re not going to co-operate.”
“You’re right. You can’t. So why don’t you do me a favour and fuck off, yeah?”
The guy didn’t need telling twice. He gathered up his stuff and was out of there in the blink of an eye. Hard to put my finger on it, but I got the distinct impression he was glad to be rid of me. Some lawyer he was going to make if he ran home crying to mummy every time the bad guy said something to him that he didn’t like. He was going to come across a lot worse than me if he stayed in this line of work.
Unsurprisingly, the cops were not that pleased at my binning off the duty solicitor. On the other hand, though, I think they took my lack of legal representation as an excuse to see how much they could get away with. There were some thinly veiled threats about remanding me in custody as I was still serving a suspended sentence, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of letting it worry me. They had nothing on me, and we all knew it.
We went back and forward for a couple of hours, going over and over the same old crap. They said I’d done it. I said I hadn’t. They said they had witnesses. I said they had fuck all. Luckily for them, I chose to play nice. I could easily have gone down the ‘no comment’ route, but I always thought that was for people who actually had something to hide. I was being straight up with them, and keeping a tight hold on my temper, although it was probably a good thing there were no windows in the room. Otherwise, the next person to refer to Stefan as my ex might have found themselves thrown through it.
“Look, I didn’t do this,” I said for about the thousandth time. “I’d never hurt Stef. Check the CCTV. There must be some on the street.”
“We can’t,” the interviewing officer answered. “The camera overlooking the precinct was vandalised last night. That’s something of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” I said grimly. “And not the kind I believe in.”
“Meaning?”
“Come on, think about it. This attack on the salon was planned, and not by me. Someone’s targeting Stef. So instead of keeping me here, when you know I had nothing to do with smashing that window, maybe you should be out there looking for the fucker who really is behind all this.”
“Behind all what?” The officer asked, looking genuinely puzzled. “Other than the broken window, we haven’t had any other reports of violence against Mr. Gold.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face and groaned. We were getting nowhere fast, and all the time I was wasting in this bullshit interview, was time I should be spending protecting Stef. I was sure whoever had broken the window was the same person who had bruised his wrist, and I was also sure that Stef knew their identity. By the end of the day, I was going to make sure I knew too. Whether he wanted to or not, Stef was going to tell me. The police were no fucking use. It was up to me to find this bastard and put an end to whatever twisted game he was playing.
There was a knock on the door, and another policeman entered with a note for the interviewing officer. Whatever was in it, he didn’t look too pleased. I had a sneaking suspicion that could only be good news for me. He suspended the interview, and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a scowl.
“You’re free to go.”
“Yeah?” I stood up quickly, wanting to get out of there before they changed their minds and decided to hold me on remand after all. “Want to tell me what changed?”
“Apparently, the witness has admitted she didn’t actually see you throw the brick,” the officer said sourly, sounding decidedly pissed off at having lost his prime suspect. “Plus, there are actually several members of the public who have come forward with a description of the real perpetrator, and it doesn’t match you.”
And that was the end of it. There was no apology, of course, but then I hadn’t really expected one. I found myself tossed out onto the street without so much as an offer of a lift back to my car. I’d have a ticket for sure this time, but there was nothing I could do about it. I’d only taken a few steps when I spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets, collar turned up to protect him from the wind. I stopped in front of him, not sure whether I should be angry or not.
“I’m sorry,” Stef blurted out, looking up at me through tearful green eyes. “I’m so, so sorry, Alex.”
“Just tell me why,” I said. “Why did you tell them it was me.”
“I didn’t. At least, I didn’t mean to.” He dropped his gaze, and huddled into himself, shivering. I wondered how long he’d been outside waiting for me. As usual the jacket he wore was designed to make him look good as opposed to keep him warm.
“Come on, let’s walk.” I held out my hand and Stef grabbed at it, seeming relieved that I wasn’t mad at him. “We need to get my car, assuming that prick traffic warden hasn’t has it towed. We can talk on the way.”
Stef trotted alongside me obediently, although it was several minutes before he spoke again. “When I asked you why you did it, I wasn’t talking about the window. I knew that wasn’t you. I didn’t expect Fiona to assume that’s what I meant. I’m sorry she lied, but she honestly thought she was protecting me.”
“So what did you mean?” I asked, deciding to ignore the whole Fiona issue. Right at that moment, it wasn’t something I could talk about without getting angry, and if I showed even the slightest hint if annoyance, Stef would clam up on me. “You said “why did you have to do it?”. If you didn’t mean breaking the window, what was it I’m supposed to have done?”
Stef was quiet for a minute two, while he thought about how to answer that. I waited patiently.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you, that’s all.”
“That’s not really an answer, Stef.”
“Okay, then, you shouldn’t have come to the salon. That’s what I meant. You don’t need to check up on me all the time. And I… I don’t want you hanging round when I’m working. It makes me look bad.”
I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to respond to that. Letting go of his hand, I strode ahead of him. I didn’t need to look at him to know he’d be staring at me with an injured expression, his eyes brimming with tears. Hadn’t it always been that way with us? I did or said something Stef didn’t like. He cried. I apologised. Stef had me wrapped around his little finger and he knew it, but he never seemed to understand that his words and actions had the power to hurt me too. Just because I didn’t cry or pout like Stef and bloody Rufus did when they wanted to get their own way, it didn’t mean I was incapable of having my feelings hurt.
He trotted behind me in silence the rest of the way back to the seafront, so at least he had the sense to know when he was in the wrong. We’d been together long enough for him to know when he needed to give me space. Not that I’d ever hit him however hard he pushed me, but there was always the possibility of my big mouth saying something unforgivable that I could not take back later.
We arrived at the car park to find a Mini parked in the spot where my car had been.
“Shit.”
“Are you sure this is where you parked it?” Stef asked, looking around the car park as though he expected to see the car in a different space.
“I’m sure, Stef,” I said, perhaps more harshly than was necessary, but sometimes my boyfriend acted like a bit of a dick. “That bastard warden had it towed.”
“Are you –” Stef saw the look on my face an
d stopped abruptly. “Sorry.”
I walked over to the sea wall and slumped against it, defeated. It took a lot to make me feel that way. Even with all the crap I’d been through in the past, I’d never felt that life was so utterly hopeless. Everything I had was running like sand, through my fingers. My job, my home, my car – I was losing it all and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. It even felt like Stef – who was standing right in front of me – was slipping away. He’d been lying to me. Hiding things from me. Now he was ashamed of me too? Not wanting to be embarrassed by his hulking great boyfriend in front of his new friends and colleagues.
“Are you okay?” Stef asked in a small voice.
“Not really.” I was honest if nothing else. Well, these days I tried to be anyway. “The car’s gone, Stef. There’s no way I can afford to get it back.”
“Maybe Tony would give you an advance on your wages.”
“Yeah, somehow I doubt that.”
There was a long pause, and then Stef said, “I love you.”
I closed my eyes. “I wish I could believe you,” I replied.
8
It was a long, cold walk home. Stef trailed behind me, miserable, the whole way. More than once, I heard him snivelling, but I didn’t turn around or offer any comfort. I tried not to be angry, or blame him for the day’s events. It was hard, though, when everything that had happened was actually his fault. If Stef had told me the truth about his bruised wrist, if he hadn’t cried himself to sleep, I wouldn’t have had that awful conversation with Tony. If he’d phoned me at lunchtime like he was supposed to, then I wouldn’t have walked out on my job and I wouldn’t have gone to the salon. If he hadn’t made it sound like I was the one who broke the window then I wouldn’t have been arrested. If he hadn’t let me get carted off to the police station for something I hadn’t done, I wouldn’t have lost my car.
