Page 41 of It's Only Make Believe

It doesn’t work though. I walk in the direction of my place, knowing Justin’s place is in the opposite direction. I hear the pub door open and close, and Justin follows behind me. I’m not even to the next building yet and I don’t want this creep following me any further. I stop walking and turn around.

“Seriously. Why don’t you just fuck off?” I snap.

“Why don’t you take your own advice?” Justin says. “Fuck off away from Louisa or I will make you sorry.”

“Is that so?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

“Damned right it is,” Justin says.

He slurs something else I can’t make out, and then he’s coming at me. I reach out to shove him, shocked he’s taken things this far. What a fucking loser he is. I can’t believe I thought he was an ok guy, even for a moment.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

TIA

Ihad a really good time this evening with the people from the book club. We talked about the book we’ve just finished, Blindness by Jose Saramago, and afterwards, we just chatted in general. We drank wine and ate the snacks I had prepared, and I definitely think the night was a success. I’m already looking forward to our next meeting when we will discuss our next book, The Turn of the Screw by Henry James.

The meeting went later than I thought it would and it’s now almost eleven o’clock and I’ve just finished washing the dishes and tidying up after the last guests left. I’m tired, but pleasantly so, the sort of tired you feel after a good meal or a fun time.

I’m debating between whether to shower now and have an extra fifteen minutes in bed in the morning, or whether to just crash now and shower in the morning. I’m still debating it when my intercom buzzes.

At first, I think one of the book club group members must have left something behind, but I can’t see anything that doesn’tbelong, and I can’t see anyone coming back at this time of night for something left behind anyway. I smile when I realize it’s most likely Luke finished his drinks with Justin and decided to pop in. I go over to the intercom and press the talk button.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi Tia. Can I come up?” a voice says.

It’s not Luke and it takes me a second to place the voice. Justin. He’s obviously alone because he called me Tia not Louisa. He sounds a bit tipsy, and I don’t particularly want to let him in drunk at this time of the night.

“I’m just about to go to bed,” I say.

“Please Tee, it’s important,” he says.

“Five minutes," I relent with a sigh I hope Justin doesn’t hear.

I press the button to unlock the door and when I hear it open, I release the button. I go to my apartment door and unlock it and open it. I go back to the living room to wait for Justin to appear.

I don’t have to wait long. I hear my front door close and then he’s in the living room doorway and my jaw drops when I see him. Both of his eyes are black and swollen. His nose looks slightly crooked, and blood slowly trickles from it, although judging by the front of his shirt, it was gushing out a lot faster than that when it first happened. He has a small cut above one eyebrow and his bottom lip is cut and swollen.

“What the fucking hell happened to you?” I say.

He waves my question away with the flick of one hand and then he winces at the movement.

“It doesn’t matter. I just came to see if you have any painkillers. I know I don’t have any in,” he says.

“Go and sit down at the dining table,” I say, pointing to the door to the kitchen and dining room in one. “While I go and have a look for some painkillers, gauze and steri-strips.”

Justin does as I say, and I go to the bathroom. I open my bathroom cabinet and pull out a bottle of painkillers and some gauze and a packet of steri-strips. I go to the kitchen and run the tap and fill a glass with water. I take the glass and two of the painkillers to Justin. He takes them and thanks me. While he’s swallowing the painkillers, I go back to the sink, and I fill a bowl with warm water. I go to the table and sit down beside Justin. He sees the bowl and the gauze and shakes his head.

“You don’t have to do any of that,” he says.

“Shush,” I tell him.

He tries to smile but winces instead.

I start with the cut above his eyebrow first because out of all of his injuries, it looks the least painful and the easiest to deal with. I dab it gently with wet gauze and see it’s barely more than a deep scratch when the dried blood washes away.

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