Page 72 of The Dicktionary Club

That afternoon, Katy and I walked on eggshells. We explained to Andrea that Zola was researching ideas with a client, and although our boss didn’t bat an eyelid, I felt sick. Everything was racing through my mind.Why did she do that? Should I have met Alvaro instead? What would Curtis say? What if he hurt her?I didn’t think for one second that he would be capable ofthat, he was always such a chilled-out guy, but I’d watched far too many true-crime series to know it was always the ones you least suspected. I felt like the clock was ticking slowly, and I’d occasionally catch Katy’s eye. She looked equally worried.

Eventually, just after four, our phones beeped simultaneously.

One new message from Zola:

That’s it done. Katy, can I come round to yours after work? X

I breathed a sigh of relief. My friend was still alive, but I knew it hadn’t gone well if she now needed to stay away from her flat.

Katy:Of course! Are you OK? Xxx

Ella:I’ll come too. I’m proud you did the right thing. x

Zola:Thanks. See you soon x

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ella

Katy and I sat nervously on her small green chesterfield sofa that evening after work. I’d always liked Katy’s flat; it was bright and homey, just like her. She had pink tiles in her kitchen, with smiley-faced emoji artwork hanging on the walls, and apart from the odd bit of clutter darted around, like hairbrushes on the coffee table or kirbies that seemed to pile up in a half-burned candle, she kept it clean and tidy. It wasn’t my pristine aesthetic vibe, but it suited my friend to a tee. Around six, Katy’s door knocked, and we both looked at one another cautiously. Katy stood and went to answer it.

‘Hey, are you OK?’ I heard her ask.

There was a quiet, muffled exchange from the hallway. Zola came towards me with a small suitcase wheeling behind her.

‘Hey,’ I said.

‘Hey,’ she responded.

‘Oh, I can take this,’ Katy offered, taking the case and wheeling it into her bedroom. ‘You can sleep in with me, it’ll be fun!’ she called out, sounding excited at the prospect, like this was a childhood sleepover and not the end of our friend’s life as she knew it.

Zola slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes.

‘Can I get you anything, Zo?’ Katy asked, returning to theliving room.

‘Have you got any paracetamol? My head is pounding.’

‘Erm .?.?.’ Katy popped into the kitchen, and I could hear her rummaging through her drawers. She returned a few moments later. ‘I haven’t got paracetamol, but I have wine!’ She smiled widely and revealed a bottle of Chardonnay from behind her back. ‘Ta-dah!’

I laughed at how cute she was. ‘You’re the perfect host, Katy McIntyre.’

Katy grinned and squeezed onto the sofa beside us, forcing Zola into the middle.

‘Well, how’d it go?’ I asked as Katy jumped back up, fetching the glasses from the kitchen.

‘Terrible. Well .?.?. you can imagine. He asked me to repeat the story over and over and over again.’ Zola rubbed her eyes, which were swollen and irritated with tears and the trauma of the awful situation. ‘He said he couldn’t be with me after that. He said he might move back to London, that nothing was keeping him here.’

Katy gasped loudly, returning and pouring the alcohol.

I pulled a face for her to be quiet, trying my best to soothe our friend. ‘He’s probably in shock, though, Zo. Let him cool down for a few days, then talk about things. No one cheats for no good reason,’ I said, trying my hardest to offer some sort of support.

Zola was zoning out, lost in a daze as whatever she’d been through that afternoon played out in her head again.

‘Have you been happy, Zo?’ Katy asked, sounding nervous at probing her.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said softly, taking a long pause as her mind worked overtime to assess her situation. ‘Curtis can be hard work at times. He plays those stupid games twenty-four-seven if he’s not at work, he is unmotivated and quite happy to lie around all day every day. Sometimes I feel like he’s my child and notin a nice way; it’s not exciting or romantic or anything like that anymore. But it did feel different when I spoke to Alvaro. He was different. But I suppose that’s just the chase, the thrill of the unknown, isn’t it?’

‘Hmm.?.?. Maybe. And have you heard from the Spanish guy?’ Katy asked.

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