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allowed to leave the station. Since relieved of my clothes, I was lent some by a policewoman, so I didn’t have to continue wearing the paper suit. Home was out of bounds, the blue police tape covering the front entrance. Mrs Brown waited at her door to greet me with a warm embrace before leading me into her house. The smell of her perfume sweet, but after the interview room’s sterile scent, comforting.

‘They rang me to let me know you were coming. I told them you would stay here. Though I hope you don’t mind the sofa.’ As she closed the door behind us, she whispered, ‘I’ve put your father in the spare room. He’s flat out. He tried to stay awake. Poor love, it’s been all too much for him.’

I nodded as she sat me on the sofa already made up.

‘Can I get you anything?’

I shook my head. ‘No, thank you,’ I said, glancing around. Her living room was warm. The sofa with two matching armchairs, looking as if they had been shoehorned in. While on the walls, pictures of her grown-up children and husband. A flowery smell and what had been eaten for dinner lingered in the air. Her cat, Milly took one look at me and hid around the back of an armchair; we were never friends.

I was so tired I just wanted to sleep, the sofa, the floor, I didn’t care. I rested my head on the pillow she provided. I couldn’t even undress, listening to her voice as she talked about what had happened. Guessing she needed to work through it, but my eyes closed.

 11

Wide awake the following morning, a commotion was going on outside the house. I could hear Mrs Brown telling someone to go away. Still dressed in the clothes I’d slept in, I wandered up behind her at the front door.

‘Kimberly West, could you answer a few questions?’ came a shout from a man who was there wearing a press badge. Several others were behind him, some with cameras. Mrs Brown slammed the door screaming at them to go away and leave the girl alone.

An agitated expression on her face, she puffed, her cheeks bright red.

‘I’m sorry I’ve brought this down on to you,’ I said. I was preparing myself for her to burst into tears.

‘My dear, this is not your fault. It was that evil man who tried to kill you who caused all this,’ she said. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me away from the door and back towards the sitting room. Coming down the stairs was dad. He nodded at me.

‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ I murmured, getting my arm back from Mrs Brown.

Both dad and I sat at the kitchen table, our neighbour doing her best to carry on as if nothing had happened. What would we like for breakfast? Did I prefer tea or coffee?

We settled for tea and toast, trying our best to ignore the doorbell going off.

‘Have the police still got my phone?’

‘Afraid so, but you can borrow mine,’ said Mrs Brown, jumping up to snatch her phone from the worktop like it was urgent and placing it under my nose.

I picked it up, and I was surprised it was an iPhone and not just an iPhone, but the latest. Mine was still a 7.

I needed to let Emma know I wouldn’t be in for a bit. But pretty certain she might have realised that by now. As expected, Emma, who sounded harassed, tried to talk to me while dealing with a client, agreed I should take time off. In the background, I could hear Flossy shout, ‘Give her my best.’

Next, I thought I’d text Linda, see if I couldn’t lend something to wear as I was not allowed back home. And she was about the same size as me. All I needed was a pair of jeans and a couple of tops. Mrs Brown glanced to my dad and winked, moving closer to him, she whispered, thinking I couldn’t hear her, ‘She is organising herself. That’s a good sign.’

***

 

Linda arrived to pick me up outside Mrs Brown’s, deciding it would be a good idea to get out. First, having to run the gauntlet through the local press besieging the house, throwing questions to me, and answering them.

‘How do you feel this morning?’ and ‘Are you relieved?’ and so on. Linda had opened the passenger side door for me so I could slide in. I closed it behind me, shutting the shouts out while trying to hide my face from the cameras. It wasn’t just the local press anymore, a call from a figure in the crowd.

‘The Daily Echo readers would like to hear your story.’

 I covered my ears, trying to blank out the calls.

Giving them a wave, Linda drove off.

‘Do you think my picture will be in the paper?’ She asked, checking herself out in the rear-view mirror. ‘If I’d known there was going to be cameras, I would have sorted out my hair. Bloody hair just won’t behave this morning. I mean, look at my fringe, all over the place.’

‘You look great,’ I murmured, trying hard not to roll my eyes.

‘You think?’

‘Yes, I see someone else has been doing it?’ And she blushes.

‘Well, didn’t like to put you to any trouble. The streaks needed touching up,‘ she said, flashing me a look.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ The truth was I didn’t care and was asking myself why I even noticed.

We arrived at Alex’s flat as Linda was under strict instructions to take me there first. I noticed a bag in the back of her car, hoping it contained a few things for me to wear. I wasn’t comfortable still wearing the clothes I had slept in, and to be honest, pencil skirts weren’t my thing. I was in the mood for

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