Mam will see this as a sign that things are getting better. Faye is beginning to look after herself, take pride in her appearance. Mam doesn’t know I’m contriving to meet the love of my life. The man Tara Moore robbed me of.

My hair is tied in a loose ponytail pulled to one side and hanging down over my shoulder. It’s all the rage. As is the two-tone colour. The red I dyed my hair earlier in the year has grown out and is now only visible on the bottom half of my hair but it looks deliberate, it looks cool. I think Andriu will like it. He always said I had a funky way with fashion. That was before I could afford to buy new clothes whenever I wanted. I had to make things look their best, adding a bow here or a belt there and it helped that Tara and I wore the same size. We could borrow one another’s clothes. Like sisters but without the rows. My own sister never shared her clothes with me. I remember borrowing a denim shirt once from her wardrobe to go to a party and she threw a fit when she found out, resulting in her locking her bedroom door every time she left. Like I was some sort of thief. She need not have worried. There was nothing else in there that interested me.

Having make-up on my face all day feels heavy, like I’m wearing a mask because I don’t usually wear make-up at the clinic. The black jacket covering my silver, silk shirt, looks effortless over my tight grey jeans but none of this is stalking gear. I’m freezing, standing here in the dark looking up at a cascade of balconies jutting out from this tall, boring-looking building and wondering which one is hers. Which balcony does Tara Moore drink her coffee on in the morning? Which balcony does she fuck her boyfriend on at night?

The lights are beginning to flicker on in quite a few of these boxes. People are arriving home from their comfortable offices, with their communal toilets and brightly coloured chill-out areas. The apartment block is in the middle of a hub of major financial companies so I imagine the rent is pretty high. Tara’s boyfriend is probably paying for it.

I’ll have to make my move soon. I’ll have to confront her. I wonder what she’d look like dangling from one of those balconies.

Pulling my jacket across my chest does little to keep the cold out. I make my way across the road where I pass the pub on the corner of the building and get motivated by the smell of beer oozing out from the doorway. Not yet Faye. Not yet.