It was only at twenty to twelve that they’d seen a taxi draw up slowly outside number eleven. Louise had emerged a minute later, her hair twisted up into a bun and her dress and leggings exchanged for jeans and high heels. With a sigh, Hanson had asked, ‘Any wagers on where she’s going?’

29

Louise

I didn’t think I’d be writing any more, at least not yet. But more has happened. I made it happen. I suddenly found myself unable to sit alone and let this all just build and build beyond my control.

With the awful realisation that nobody was looking for whoever had attacked me, I felt like I needed to do something. With no other obvious paths open to me, I tracked Alex Plaskitt down online and discovered a treasure trove. A YouTube channel full of fitness videos.

I found myself watching video after video, watching obsessively for signs of his character. What I hadn’t really been prepared for was the reality of him. For how much of a punch to the gut it would be to see him alive, and animated, and likeable. He seemed less and less like a predator and more and more like a victim whose death I had helped to cause.

And as I watched, a suspicion that’s been creeping up on me for the last two days crystallised into certainty.

What I finally faced up to was that I did spend time with Alex Plaskitt that night. Every time I denied having met him, I was lying, and I think some part of me knew it. She knew it.

I don’t think I just talked to him. I think I flirted, and I think it was entirely deliberate. Not just something that Drunk Louise wanted to do, something all of me wanted to do.

At some point on Friday night I sat beside him at the bar. I have a fleeting memory of imagining I was Dina. I remember consciously imitating what April had told me. I remember putting my hand on his arm as I laughed at something he’d said.

But that was all I could remember. Everything else was still a yawning void, and it was driving me to agitation. I couldn’t calm myself, even with more cleaning. I felt certain that I’d done something awful.

I knew I needed to know what I’d said to him. Whether I’d agreed to meet up with him at our house. I needed to know how much of this shit I’d brought on myself.

It was a momentous thing, leaving here alone, just before midnight, with a destination in mind that intimidated the hell out of me. But I did it. I had to.