‘It’s funny,’ I said, feeling momentarily flustered, like I’d suddenly been asked out, ‘but I’ve had to turn down two invitations out for drinks with other students, on the grounds that it’s against college regulations.’

She laughed. She’s pretty when she laughs – her eyes crinkle and her chin goes really pointy. I always feel so fascinated by lesbians. I instantly start wondering if they fancy me, and then feel affronted when they don’t. I suppose that’s how most men are, around pretty women. I like the idea of a ‘lesbian experience’, although I’m not sure I’d have the nerve to go through with it.

‘Male students, I take it. Well, not difficult to guess which ones, since we only have the two.’

I tried to bluff it out, pretending that I’d meant the students were from other classes I’d taught, and not this one. It would have been a bit indiscreet. But I’m sure she wasn’t fooled.

We got comfortable in the two big tatty armchairs near the fireplace with our drinks – vodka and tonic for me, Jack and coke for her, and, just for something to talk about, I started telling her about the underwear delivery. I was laughing, saying how batty I’ve been lately, but she looked at me a bit strangely.

‘There’s no way you could have bought that off the Web without noticing,’ she said.

‘Well, I must have done. It’s on my credit card.’

‘You would have to have typed in your address, approved the amount, entered your card details, and then the site would almost certainly have confirmed your purchase with an email afterwards. They do that, to stop fraud.’

‘Then how…?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ve got no idea. Unless you really are losing your marbles.’

Yeah, thanks Kathy.

I sighed, tempted for a moment to pour out my heart about all the other weird things which had happened over the past two weeks, but instead we drifted into a conversation about writing, and then publishing – Kathy used to have an agent, but the agent dropped her after failing to find a publisher for her first novel – so we had a lot in common. I told her about the TLA fiasco, and she sympathised, which made me feel worse. There was a time when people were impressed that you’d been published, not sympathetic. I can’t stand being a has-been.

I was about to say goodbye and go, when Kathy got up. Her legs in jeans were inches away from me, and I suddenly wondered what she’d do if I pressed my face into her. She has nice legs, like a Barbie doll’s. All the men in the pub looked at her when she stood up.

‘Another drink?’

I checked the time on my phone – ten thirty – although my decision wasn’t time-dependent, since I’d already decided I wanted to go home. ‘Better not. I’m a bit wrecked, to tell you the truth.’

‘Want a lift? My car’s just across the road. It wouldn’t be a problem.’

I laughed – how ironic, in retrospect. Why did I not just accept? ‘No, it’s fine, thanks. It’ll only take me five minutes to walk.’

There was a moment’s awkward hovering at the door of the pub. I didn’t know whether to shake her hand, or kiss her cheek, and it seemed that nor did she. In the end we grinned at each other and waved self-consciously.

‘See you next Wednesday, then.’

‘Yeah. Thanks for the drink, neighbour. Bye.’

Kathy vanished round the corner, pulling on her coat and simultaneously fishing around in the pocket for her keys as she walked. She strikes me as a multi-tasking kind of person. I wondered if, once the course was over, we could be friends and decided that it was quite possible. It would be nice to have a mate – I nearly said ‘girlfriend’ – living locally, none of my other friends do.

Then I began to walk home, across the swimming pool carpark, and that’s when I got chased.

Oh God, what if it is the same person who sent the card, and the flowers, and the underwear? That means he’s been in my house. What do I do? Should I tell the police? Have I got a stalker? I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. I know for sure I’d be terrified, if I really believed I had. No.

It’s just not possible.

Chapter 10

Alex

Wednesday

Seeing them together tonight made me feel sick. The way they were laughing, leaning close together across the table, looking so happy in each other’s company. It was bad enough seeing that she'd accepted Kathy as a friend on Facebook while ignoring my request, but this was a more visceral disappointment. It should have been me in there with Siobhan, having a drink with her, telling her about myself, swapping smiles. It should have been me! She told me a lie: that she wasn’t allowed to socialise with students. That hurts more than anything – maybe even more than the fact that she chose Kathy over me.

Why do the people we love always have to disappoint us so?

I hope Siobhan isn’t going to go off with Kathy and embark on some crazed Sapphic affair. I don’t think Siobhan’s a lesbian. I’ve seen the way she looks at me – it’s a look that says ‘I like men’, even if she hasn’t realised exactly how she feels about this man yet. But I still feel so betrayed. After following them from the college to the pub, I looked in through the window and had a clear view of them. My stomach lurched and I only just stopped myself from vomiting.

After they’d said goodbye I followed Siobhan for a little while, just wanting to be near her. Needing to gain strength from her proximity. But she almost saw me – I had to duck into the shadows – and then she ran off.

Oh, Siobhan, I don’t hate you now. I still love you. I still want us to be together. So no, my sweetheart, my angel, I don’t blame you. Of course not. It’s that bitch Kathy. I blame her. She persuaded you to go to the pub with her; maybe even coerced you, nagged you until you felt you had no other choice.

I wonder if you were wearing your new underwear tonight, Siobhan. Kathy didn’t know about that, did she? About the delicious silk you were wearing beneath your clothes. That was our secret. You and me.

I can picture you taking it off: slipping off the shoulder straps in front of the mirror, your breasts buffed to even greater softness by the smooth touch of the silk; then sitting on the bed and pushing down the rest of it, kicking it aside, a wicked look on your face. And I’m there with you, like a shadow. You can’t see me, Siobhan, but you can feel me. You open your arms and I fall into your embrace. We kiss and you run your hands down my back and you’re moaning, saying my name, oh Alex, please, I want you, and you pull me towards you, and you’re already wet, so wet, and I slide into you and . . .

Kathy could never give you that.

Thursday

I’ve got a terrible headache and feel as if somebody’s removed all the blood from my veins and replaced it with sand that’s been soaked in lager and dipped in an ashtray. I’ve just read what I wrote last night before I passed out. There’s an empty vodka bottle beside the bed which I shouldn’t have bought. I can’t afford it.

I vaguely remember going on the Web last night as well. Did I order more stuff?

Ow… my head. Need water. More sleep. I want to write more but it hurts too much so I’m going back to bed. At least I don’t have a fucking job to go to.

Afternoon. After returning to bed this morning I didn’t wake up again until four. I staggered out to the kitchen looking for water. Simon and Natalie were there. They both raised their eyebrows at me.

‘Have you been asleep?’ Natalie asked.

I grunted in the affirmative.

‘Haven’t been on Monster.com then?’ said Si. He’d promised me that he wouldn’t hassle me about finding another job, although I’d assured him that I would do everything I could to find one quickly. He was actually really good about it when I told him I’d been sacked. He said he could cover the rent for a month until I found something new. So I don’t know why he suddenly started going on about job hunting today. Maybe Natalie had been nagging him about it – worried that he might have less cash to spend on her, no doubt.