I was with her, the only woman I’d ever need. She was trailing her fingers down my arm and her breath was warm against my neck.

It wasn’t Scott. It was her, her, my beautiful perfect her.

“We should get married,” she’d said once, as we both lay sweaty and sorely contented in a hotel room.

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

“My parents…”

She’d tenderly kissed my forehead. “You can’t let them rule you forever.”

“You don’t understand. They’d never talk to me again.”

“It must be a strange god,” my earthbound angel whispered in my ear, as her fingers trailed up my naked thigh, “to care about what body parts people use to express their love.”

“We’re an abomination.” I moaned as her fingertips pushed against the still-tender place. “We’re bound for Hell, both of us…”

34

LAUREN

Markus must’ve been waiting for the doorbell to ring. The moment Lauren pressed down on it, the door swung open. He was a small thin man, with brown-grey fuzz smoothed across his balding pate. Lauren guessed he was in his mid-thirties – his face was young – but his haircut, combined with his beige sweater, made him seem older.

He looked her up and down. “You’re not Scott.”

“He asked me to come.”

“Why?”

“How much do you know?”

“About him and Casey?” Lauren nodded, and Markus blew out a long breath. “I know she’s… she’s doing what she does, what she did to me, but to him.”

“So there you go. That’s why he can’t come.”

“I see.”

“Can I come in?”

He looked around his garden, back down the narrow hallway, and then finally at Lauren again. “Who are you? To Scott, I mean?”

There was no way she could answer this honestly. Even if she explained her connection, Markus would still question her motives. He’d wonder why she was getting involved. And it wasn’t like Lauren was going to tell him about the idea she was toying with: using whatever leverage she gained to make Scott tell her the truth.

“I work with him. I’m his friend. That’s why he asked me to do this; I can report back anything I learn. School is the only place she leaves him alone.”

Markus stood aside, waving his hand. The hallway was neat, photos of a little girl hanging from the walls, some of them with Markus and some of them with an elderly couple. “Your parents?” she asked.

Markus nodded. “Polly loves them. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Sure, two sugars, please.”

They sat in the living room, Markus in the armchair and Lauren on the sofa. There was a big display unit opposite them, glass, with more photos inside. Lauren didn’t spot any of Casey. But of course, there wouldn’t be.

“How bad is it for him?” Markus asked, after taking a sip of his tea.

“Pretty bad. He doesn’t tell me everything. But he doesn’t have to.”