Page 70 of Crocodile Tears

Feeling a surge of impotent fury, he struck out wildly, his fist connecting with people, lenses, and then with the pavement as he fell down.

He looked up blearily, through the sweat and crocodile tears, to see the cameras flashing like a firework display, surrounding him on all sides.

Someone pushed through the crowd and picked him up, then hauled him bodily through the throng, and he could have wept, because the last thing he wanted was Neil bloody Grant saving his arse.

Neil and Solange pulled him back into the building and up the stairs to the privacy of the flat, locking the door behind them. Neil dumped him on the floor, and Solange crouched down beside him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, handing him a glass of water. “You’re okay now, Alex. We’ve got you. Thanks, Neil.” Their saviour was breathing heavily, his brown shirt torn at the chest. She shot him a grateful smile.

“You know, Alex, whether you like it or not, I’m the best friend you’ll ever have,” Neil said.

“Christ, I hope not,” he said. “Even I don’t deserve that.”

“Alex, don’t be so mean,” Solange scolded. “Neil just dragged you out of that mob.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, just go! Go on – piss off,” Alex yelled at her. She sat back on her heels, staring at him, her mouth open in shock. “Fuck off. I don’t want to see you again, Solange – not now, not ever.”

“Alex, you don’t mean that?—”

“Yes, I bloody well do. I was only using you for the croc; I’ve been bored of you for ages,” he said viciously, wanting to lash out at anyone in sight and knowing precisely what would hurt her most. She got to her feet and ran to the door without another word.

Footage of the incident was all over the news sites within minutes. Alex stared at himself dejectedly on his nanopad. His eyes were wet from croc, his face scrunched up in a roar of frustration as he lay onthe ground, blinking at the flashbulbs. He looked like a wild animal, snarling in rage; he barely recognised himself.

“No wonder the whole bloody world hates me so much,” he said. “Stupid fucking bastards. As if they could ever hate me as much as I hate myself.”

His onscreen image lashed out, snapping and growling, his face twisted into a mask of hate. He wasn’t human – he was the other, a creature the world could project all its ugly emotions onto, because he didn’t matter. He’d lost that right four years ago on a country road. Like Neil said, every good fairy story needed a villain, and he was playing that role to perfection.

There was a ping, and his father’s face popped up. With a sigh, Alex accepted the call; Noah would only call Neil if he didn’t. His father appeared onscreen, his face creased with concern.

“Alex – I’ve just seen the news – are you okay? What the hell is going on?”

“It’s the bloody press! They’re harassing me; I can’t go anywhere without them getting in my face.”

“I’ve told you before – just ignore them. Don’t engage with them. I don’t know why this is so hard for you.” His father looked tanned and relaxed. “Who was that pretty girl with you?” he asked, unexpectedly.

“Her name is Solange.”

“Well, she looked nice. You should bring her to meet us.”

“We just split up,” Alex said sullenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” His father sighed. “Look, it’s a shame things aren’t going so well for you right now. I knew you should have come with us to Mexico.”

“I told you why I didn’t bloody well want to go to Mexico. And I don’t see how it would be any better if I was there instead of here.”

“You’d be having a good time. It’s lovely here – we’re being made very welcome. There have been issues with protestors – the usual stuff, some countries less affected by the Rising don’t approve of our IS system – but they aren’t prepared to help with our refugee situation, so…” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, that’s all been taken care of quite discreetly and doesn’t affect us at all. Charles is being treated like a hero wherever he goes.”

“He must be loving that.”

“Don’t start, Alex. Charles deserves this, and I’m doing my best. I’m not Isobel, but I hope I’m the next best thing.”

“I’m sure you are,” Alex said quietly. “And I’m sure he appreciates that.”

“Look, he wants to talk to you – be nice, okay?”

“Fine.”

His father disappeared, and Charles took his place, looking blissfully happy.

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