She didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.
‘Not here, though,’ he said. ‘It’ll be somewhere more private for you.’
He took a deep inhale, like he was sucking her fear down into his lungs, wanting to hold that part of her.
A car horn honked behind her and Walton didn’t even flinch. He just released her arm and ambled away, hands shoved into his pockets.
The horn sounded again and she started to move out of the vehicle’s path, on automatic, one numb footstep after another into the back lobby and then the lift, and she was shaking, teeth clenched, vision filmy. When she tried to fit her key in the lock, it kept skidding away from the hole.
And all the while she had the smell of him in her nostrils, could taste the reek of him.
Billy opened the door and she forced her way past him, kicking the door shut and dropping her bags.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, face tight with worry. ‘You look like you’re about to pass out.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, voice wobbling. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’
‘Mel, you’re freaking me out right now.’ He took hold of her hands and she fought down the urge to snatch them free, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, making her shudder even at his touch. ‘What happened?’
She took a deep breath.
‘Walton was downstairs.’
He pulled away from her, reaching for the door. She moved fast to block him off, threw her full weight at the fake walnut ply, slamming it shut again.
‘Please don’t go down there.’
‘My God, what did he do to you?’ Billy’s hands were on her shoulders, eyes searching hers. ‘Did he hurt you?’
‘Just leave it.’ She grabbed the front of his shirt. ‘Walton’s gone, alright? I saw him off.’
He let out a groan of frustration, deep and guttural, as he dragged her into a hug, arms tight around her shoulders. ‘Shit, Mel. Come on, I’ve got you.’
They stood like that for a minute, neither speaking, and she felt the fear beginning to dissipate, her body slowly accepting that she was safe now, that she had escaped, that there was nobody here to fight. She rubbed her face against his neck, breathed in the familiar scent of him, the stale cigarettes and faded aftershave; inhaled him, exhaled Walton. Kept doing it until she felt ready to speak again.
‘Can you get me a drink?’
She held on to his hand as they went into the kitchen, watched him close the blinds before he took a bottle of rum from the cupboard, the good dark stuff, twenty years old. He poured two glasses and drew her back through into the living room, sat her on the sofa and lowered himself carefully next to her.
‘Is this the first time he’s approached you?’
She nodded, knowing that telling him about Walton being outside the night before would only make things worse.
‘Okay, you need to tell me exactly what he said.’
‘I handled it.’
It was a lie but she couldn’t admit that she got lucky, that she didn’t know what would have happened next if that car hadn’t come along.
‘Mel, you need to tell me, please.’
‘He wants to know where his girlfriend and son are,’ she said.
‘Is that it?’
She nodded, her hand going to the place where he’d gripped her arm. ‘For a second there I thought about telling him.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I’d never do it,’ she snapped. ‘For God’s sake, what do you think I am?’
He apologised, lowering his eyes.
‘That’s what Walton does,’ she said quietly, back in the moment. ‘That’s how he got away with what he did for so long. He gets up close to you and he just bludgeons you with his presence. He’s – shit, I don’t even know how to explain it – he has this force field around him almost.’ Her fingers gripped her glass. ‘And once you’re inside it, you’re not the one in control any more. You feel like he could make you do anything.’
Billy slipped his hand into hers, stroked her knuckles.
‘If I felt like that, what the hell did all those other women feel like?’ She took a mouthful of rum, held it on her tongue, letting its fire burn away that admission of weakness.
‘It’s okay to feel like that.’ Billy kissed the side of her head. ‘Honestly, of all the fucking animals I’ve encountered in this job, Walton’s the only one who really got to me. The only time I’ve ever felt like I was going to lose it during an interview was when you walked in on us and I saw how he looked at you. I wanted to tear his throat out with my bare hands.’
She wished she could say something funny – tell him it was every girl’s dream to watch her man tear out a throat for her – just to drain the intensity from the moment, but found she couldn’t. Instead she screwed her body up small and laid her head against his chest.
‘What do you want to do about this?’ he asked finally.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. Riggott’s already warned you off approaching Walton.’
‘That was before.’
She straightened away from him. ‘But this doesn’t change anything, does it? Walton hasn’t done anything illegal. We can’t charge him with being in a car park.’
‘It’s harassment,’ Billy said.
‘No, it isn’t. Not yet. Not one time. And even if it was, we both know how bad harassment needs to get before a case gets anywhere near a courtroom.’ She went for another drink and found her glass empty. ‘People are stalked for years and it ends, at best, with a three-month prison sentence.’
‘We can’t wait until he actually attacks you,’ Billy moaned. ‘Because that’s what we’d be doing. It’s what we are doing already, waiting for him to attack someone so we can arrest him.’ He gripped her hand tighter. ‘I’m not going to let that person be you.’
‘He’s not going to do that,’ she said, trying to sound like she
