The Girl With No Past (14 page)

I was about to protest but realised it was the least I could do for Ben if he was willing to meet me at such short notice and help me out when there was little in it for him. Besides, Julian lived in Bethnal Green so I couldn’t expect him to come all the way here. I had to look at this as training.

I told Ben I’d meet him at one o’clock and he suggested we meet outside Waterstones in Piccadilly.

‘There’s a roof terrace café there and it’s got a great atmosphere. Plus, it’s always nice to have a browse through the books, isn’t it?’

Trying to hide my concern, I told Ben that this would be my treat, cutting him off when he tried to protest. I told him we’d sort it out later and was about to hang up before I remembered something. ‘Pippa won’t mind, will she?’

‘No, course not. She’ll probably be grateful to have the house to herself!’

Although it would take me longer, I decided to get the bus straight to Piccadilly Circus. That way I could at least avoid the crowded tube and stay huddled in the back corner, avoiding eye contact with other passengers.

I sat upstairs, my head buried in my book – I had just started
The Color Purple
and, although I had read it before, I couldn’t remember much of the plot – and was so engrossed it in I barely noticed people getting on and off. So far, it was all going well, and I shoved any thoughts that someone might be watching me to the back of my mind.

Ben was right; the café was nice and surprisingly not too full. We sat at a table at the back and talked about what books we were reading. We both ordered salmon and I was surprised to find I felt relaxed. Would it be this easy with Julian? Somehow I didn’t think so. It was easy to feel at ease with Ben because I wasn’t attracted to him, I wanted or needed nothing from him other than company. There was nothing riding on our lunch, whereas everything depended on my date with Julian. It had the potential to change my life.

Thinking of this reminded me there was someone out there determined that I shouldn’t be able to do this. But, once again, I pushed it aside and focused on Ben.

‘How long have you been with Pippa?’ I asked, poking my fork into a chunky chip.

Ben’s face lit up, convincing me he loved his girlfriend and I had nothing to worry about. It was easy to hide the truth behind words – I should know – but there was no faking what I saw in Ben’s expression. ‘Oh, six years now. She’s great. My family all love her too and that helps, believe me.’ He fell quiet and I wondered if he’d had a bad experience before he’d met her. ‘How about you? Are you happy being single or are you looking for someone special?’

An image of Adam flashed before me but I blinked it away. Things always came back to Adam. I had no idea how to answer his question, but before I could speak, Ben frowned and his glasses tipped further down his nose.

‘I’m really sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business. But I do have to say, I’m surprised you’re not attached.’

I wanted to say
you wouldn’t be if you knew me
, and the words were at the edge of my mouth, desperate to spill out, but I couldn’t do that to Ben. Instead, without thinking, I told him about Julian.

‘That sounds promising,’ he said, once I’d finished filling him in. ‘You should definitely meet up with him. Don’t worry, what’s meant to be will be, so if you’re right for each other then the date will go well. Nothing you can do to control it.’

I thought about this carefully. Did I believe in fate? That everything happened for a reason? I didn’t think I could believe that, otherwise what did it mean for those I had hurt? For me?

Shaking my head, I placed my knife and fork together. ‘I don’t think I believe that. It’s too easy. I think we’re in control of what we do.’

Ben watched me for a moment. ‘Well, maybe. But if that’s the case, you have to make things work with this man. If that’s what you want, of course.’

After lunch, we browsed the books and Ben bought three crime thrillers. ‘I’ll be bringing them to the library soon,’ he said. ‘Unless you want to borrow them?’

I told him I mostly read classics or literary fiction and a frown crossed his face, but he said nothing. I didn’t want to appear judgemental, so quickly added that I needed to branch out and explore more genres.

When he’d paid for his books, we walked outside and Ben told me he was walking up to Oxford Circus to get the Central Line. I said I would get the bus from just across the road so we said goodbye, Ben directing me to keep in touch.

I changed my mind once he’d gone and I was left alone in the crowds, and decided to attempt getting the Tube to Earl’s Court. I could then get the train straight to Wandsworth Town. I needed to know I could do it. It was a small step, but who knew what it could lead to?

On the platform, I let three trains go because the carriages were too crammed. I just needed a corner, somewhere where there wouldn’t be a body encroaching onto me. Even if it meant I would let several more go before that chance came.

I hadn’t paid attention to anyone else on the platform, so there was no way I could have foreseen what happened next. There was nobody close to me and when someone barged into me, knocking me to the edge of the platform I had no time to stop myself falling. I heard a scream, and then I was lying flat on the train track, the cold metal digging into my cheek. I didn’t have time to feel fear, or anything else, because immediately someone was dragging me upwards and over the platform edge, back to safety. I felt nothing. As if I was watching it all happen to someone else.

‘I think it was a woman who did it,’ I heard someone saying faintly, as if they were a mile away. ‘But it happened so quick. Is she all right?’

I couldn’t tell if it was the same person speaking and I didn’t care, I just closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again I’d be in my flat and none of this would have happened.

A gush of wind forced me back, followed by a Tube train grounding to a stop. It was barely seconds since I’d been lifted from the track.

Someone ushered me to a seat and gradually things came into focus. I didn’t think I was badly hurt because I could stand up and walk, but drops of blood from my cut face splattered onto the floor.

Then an Underground employee was checking me out, asking if I was okay, telling me they were calling for an ambulance.

‘No!’ I almost screamed. ‘I’m okay. I’ll be fine. I just want to get home.’

But my plea fell on deaf ears as he mumbled something about paperwork and following procedures. I finally convinced him to let me see a first-aider instead and he trotted off to fetch someone, moaning to himself.

While I waited, I felt questioning eyes on me. I stared at the ground, waiting for everyone on the platform to be replaced with new bodies, people who had no notion of what had just happened. It was only then I realised something was wrong. My bag wasn’t hanging across my body. I hobbled to the edge of the platform and peered over, but it wasn’t on the tracks where I had just fallen. Even if the train had crushed it there would still be some evidence left. I patted the front pockets of my coat and was relieved to feel my keys and phone. I didn’t usually keep either of them in my coat but thanked God I had that day, for whatever reason.

Fate, Ben would say.

The Underground man reappeared with a woman carrying a green first-aid case. They spoke between them for a moment, each of them glancing in my direction. When the woman told me to follow her, I went without argument. It was better than the alternative.

‘So what happened?’ she asked, as we walked, her eyes flickering to the gash on my cheek.

‘Someone accidentally knocked into me and I fell,’ I said, trying to sound believable. There was no way I could tell her I’d been mugged. That would mean police involvement, statements, police stations. All things I never wanted to think about again. Anyway, this was London; people got mugged all the time, and when did they ever catch the culprits?

Other than my purse, there was nothing much of value in my bag and although it would be time-consuming, cancelling my debit card would be fairly straightforward. And I was alive. Maybe only by a few seconds, but Ben would say I was never meant to be crushed by that train. But as I let the woman clean up my wound, I wondered whether I had been deliberately singled out.

At home, I lay on the sofa with a blanket, shaking from the low temperature in the room and from fear. I tried to reason with myself: the incident was a random mugging, nothing more than coincidence. But every time I thought this, a louder voice told me it had been deliberate. There were no coincidences.

Eventually I concluded that if I didn’t speak of it to anyone, not even to myself, then perhaps I could fool myself into thinking it hadn’t happened. What good would come of dwelling on it? I was okay.

I took some sleeping pills I found in the bathroom cabinet and went to bed, willing sleep to catch me quickly.

THIRTEEN

Over the next two weeks I heard nothing more from the emailer. I tried to remain cautious but somehow, this time, it felt as if it was over. I had even convinced myself that the mugging was definitely random.

I emailed Julian every day, pretending to be in Italy with Mum, and he replied to each one, long accounts of everything he was up to at work and at home. Even though we had not yet met, through his words I had begun to know him. And it strengthened my resolve to meet up with him, and find out for certain if this could be something real.

Of course I still wondered whether I could actually have a normal life. Go out with a man and enjoy myself without the heavy burden of guilt weighing me down. It seemed too much to hope. But I had to take a chance. Julian was my chance. Even though I knew I didn’t deserve it, my compulsion to see him in the flesh grew stronger.

The trouble was, even though I knew what he looked like – I’d stared at his photo long enough to memorise every feature on his face – every time I pictured him it was Adam’s face I saw.

We agreed to meet on the Saturday I was supposedly back. Julian picked Hammersmith for our meeting point, and although it was further than I wanted to go, I could get a couple of buses there easily enough. I was determined not to let the mugging put me off meeting him, not when I had made such progress.

Since arranging the date and time, I had decided I would not try to change myself. I would dress in my usual jeans and not fuss too much with my hair. I had to be myself, otherwise what was the point? With Adam I had never tried to change myself so I wouldn’t do that now.

But that Saturday evening, as I was about to leave, I changed my mind and wished I had some decent clothes to wear. Something that showed I was making an effort. But it was too late now. At least it was cold outside; if I kept my coat on all night he’d never have to see how dull my wardrobe was.

My mobile rang in my pocket as I walked to the bus stop. Ben’s name flashed on the screen and I immediately answered, happy to hear from him. He said he was calling to wish me luck, but couldn’t speak long. He was taking Pippa out.

When the call ended, I realised I had come to think of Ben as something like a friend. Sort of. I hadn’t told him about the mugging or anything else, but he was someone I was starting to believe I could rely on. A bit like Maria. I never thought I’d be able to call two people friends, but any normal person would consider the two of them to be just that. I only hoped that Julian could be even more.

On the bus I realised there was one small flaw in my plan to meet Julian: we were meeting at the entrance to the Tube, but what if he wanted to go to a pub for a drink? There wasn’t much else we could do there so I could hardly argue against it. What would he think of me if I politely refused and suggested somewhere else, anywhere but a pub? Surely it would make him wonder about me? This was just one of the paranoid thoughts that raced through my head as I sat hunched against the window, willing every passenger who got on not to sit next to me.

Heading through the shopping centre, swarms of people rushed past me in all directions, disorientating me. It was too busy and I began to panic. What was I thinking meeting a man I hardly knew? No good could come of it. I turned around, ready to head back up to the bus terminal. But then I felt a hand on my shoulder.