He leaves just after midnight and I kiss him all the way to the door, clutching at his shirt when he comes back for one final embrace. Our lips curl with laughter as we press them together. I don’t want him to go but he can’t stay. Not unless we’re both ready for the next stage, and I don’t think we are. Not yet. We knew it was time to stop making out when he spent more time adjusting himself than touching me, his face taking on a glaze of discomfort.
It didn’t mean it was easy, though.
“I’ll call you.” He kisses me again and I run my fingers through his hair, tugging at it.
“First thing. Before you get up.”
“All right, bossy girl.” Another brush of his lips. “I’ll be up with the dawn chorus.”
There’s something so easy about our interaction. It’s gentle and light-hearted, a stark contrast to the heated passion of before. He leans forward for a final kiss before leaving, and I stand at the door, watching as he clambers down the stairs. When he turns a corner I run to the kitchen, spotting him as he heads toward his car. He’s just a shadow in the street light but I’d know that walk anywhere. The same almost-swagger I remember from when we were young.
I barely sleep all night. When I’m not thinking about Niall I’m fretting about Allegra and praying she’s safe tonight. I left a message for Grace that I want to meet with her tomorrow, not knowing what else I can do. I can hardly call the police and tell them I’ve seen a suspicious leather jacket loitering around the house. They’d laugh me off the phone then arrest me for wasting their time. The only thing to do is wait until tomorrow and pray nothing happens in the meantime.
* * *
The next morning my phone rings at half past six and I talk to Niall. His voice is heavy with sleep; hearing it makes me feel giddy. He tells me about his day—meetings about shows and commissions—and he asks me not to go anywhere near the estate without him.
It isn’t an ultimatum or a demand, just a heartfelt plea. I find myself agreeing.
I’m at the clinic when Grace calls. She’s on a home visit but offers to drop into the clinic at two. As it’s a Friday there’s no class, and I agree readily, hopeful we can finally sort things out. With a few hours to kill and a quiet morning ahead, I clear out the art cupboard, a chore I normally avoid at the best of times. Today it’s cathartic. Throwing away dried-up bottles and brushes that have turned stiff as boards takes my mind off the bigger things.
I’m still in there when I hear a small rap on the door, and I pop my head around to see Grace O’Dell.
“Oh, hi.” I smooth back my hair, knowing I must look a state. “Is it that time already?”
“I’m early. My last appointment cancelled. Do you have time now?”
There’s something in her manner—a certain tenseness—that puts me on my guard. I feel my forehead crease into a frown. “Sure, do you want to talk here?”
“As good a place as any.”
We sit down on the orange plastic chairs. They’re covered with dried paint but Grace doesn’t appear to notice. In her job she’s seen much worse.
“Do you want to start?” she asks.
For a moment I flash back to all those years ago. Another room, but the same sort of feeling. As if I’m losing from the beginning. I don’t know why I get the impression that she’s judging me before I get to say a single word.
“I think Darren Tebbit’s back.”
“What makes you think that?” Her words are clipped, almost dismissive.
“I saw his jacket in Daisy’s flat. When I asked her about it she got all defensive, as though she was trying to hide something.”
“So you saw a jacket. Anything else?”
I realise how lame I must sound. Wi
thout Cameron’s information I’m just a paranoid fool, but I can’t tell her that he’s been spying. “No, but I know he’s back.”
Grace raises her eyebrows but keeps staring, like I’m the bad guy in this. “I saw Daisy this morning. She told me you went barging into her flat making all kinds of accusations.”
“That’s not true,” I protest. “She was the one shouting.”
Grace raises a finger as if to silence me. “Then I went to Allegra’s school and asked her if Darren had been hanging around. She told me she hasn’t seen him for months.”
“But Daisy was so defensive. When I saw the jacket she practically pushed me out of the door...”
“See it from her point of view. She’s trying so hard to make it work, putting her all into doing the right thing by Allegra. Then you swan in and make her feel like she’s being judged.”