Page 46 of Close to You
I look back to him and then he turns and strides back towards the entrance. I figure that’s the end of it, but then, less than a minute later, he returns. This time, he doesn’t bother standing at the second table, he strides directly towards us. His hands are out of his pockets and he’s jabbing a finger towards me.
‘You’ve got some nerve,’ he says with a snarl.
I stare at him, wondering if he’s someone I know, although my mind is blank. I have no idea who he is.
‘Sorry…?’ I reply.
‘My dad’s in hospital because of you. You should be in prison.’
He spits the final word, with flecks of saliva spinning from his teeth and landing on his pockmarked acne-splashed chin. He wipes it away, before pointing his finger at me again.
‘Left him for dead.’
It suddenly dawns on me that this must be the son of the person who was hit by my car. Trevor-someone. I have no idea how he knows who I am.
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘Don’t give me that. You nearly murdered a bloke and now you’re here playing pool? Pah!’
He turns to look around the room. There are only a dozen or so people in the games room, though everyone is now turning to watch.
‘Sorry?’ he continues. ‘You’resorry? How about you go tell the police what you did?’
‘It wasn’t me,’ I manage. ‘I didn’t—’ I’m stammering and spluttering but the words aren’t coming easily.
Andy’s far from the combative type, but, before I know it, he has stepped between me and the man. His arms are wide and welcoming; his tone calming.
‘Her car was stolen,’ Andy says firmly.
The man begins to fire back, though some of the confidence has left him: ‘Yeah, sure it was. How’d they get the keys?’
I start to reply, but Andy speaks over me: ‘I think you should probably go, mate. This isn’t doing any good, is it? It’s not helping the police. Not helping your dad…?’
‘Don’t talk about him.’
Andy takes a step closer to the man, who takes three or four steps towards the door. ‘OK, I won’t,’ Andy says. He angles towards me, although he never takes his eyes from the man. ‘We’ll leave, all right? We don’t want any trouble.’
The man is nodding, though it’s clear from the way his eyes are darting to the onlookers that he’s suddenly unsure. ‘We’re going anyway,’ he says.
It’s only then that I notice a woman hovering by the door. She’s half hiding behind the frame, not wanting to be here. Without another word, the man turns and hurries away. As soon as he gets to the door, the woman turns and follows. A moment later and they’re gone.
There are a few seconds in which it feels as if everyone has frozen. It takes a moment and then the group by the window playing a board game swiftly turn their attentions back to what they were doing. A dart thuds into the board and, even though I know everyone is still half-watching me, at least it’s not their full attention.
Andy turns and threads an arm around my shoulders.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks.
‘I think so. I want to go.’
‘Let’s give it a minute.’
We wait awkwardly at the edge of the pool table. The balls are still scattered across the baize; a match that will never be finished. Andy returns the cues to the rack and then we leave hand-in-hand. There’s a momentary pause when we get outside as Andy scans the car park. A tingle tickles along my spine; a sense of being watched. I’m not sure if Andy feels it, though he grips my fingers tighter and leads the way across to the stable where his car and van are parked.
‘Do you want to follow me back?’ he asks.
I know the way, of course, but that’s not what he’s asking.
‘Sure.’
