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FORTY-ONE

Emily Mead sat and had another little cry, thinking about the friends she was unable to see; might not see again for a very long time.

In truth, she hadn’t been the ideal friend for a while, hadn’t really been anyone’s idea of a proper mate since the night Adam Callaghan had dropped in.

She could hardly blame the girls she used to hang around with when they’d decided to stop calling.

She might well have done the same thing herself.

How many times could you reach out to someone only to be told that they didn’t really fancy a girls’ night, or they didn’t feel up to it, or they just weren’t in the mood for coffee and a natter that day?

How much time and effort could you put into a friendship before you gave up and cut your losses?

Too much for most people, as it had turned out.

She wondered if, when this was finally over, she’d have anyone left at all.

It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of choice, though.

How could she have got herself dressed up and sat in some bar while Jade or Abby or anyone else for that matter asked how she was and what was happening, or – even worse – if she was seeing anyone?

It wasn’t in her to do it, simple as that.

She couldn’t pretend, she couldn’t make stuff up and she certainly couldn’t ever have told them the truth.

Well, yeah, there’s been loads happening, as it goes. There was this copper who raped me and some other bloke who stood there watching and talking him through it, but it is what it is, I suppose. Oh, and now I’m off my tits on drugs most of the time. So, who’s up for another pina colada?

Sometimes, she wondered if perhaps she should have put herself out there now and again after it had happened; the odd day when things weren’t feeling quite as hopeless.

Maybe if she’d spent just a little time with other people, heard a few more voices, she might have been able to drown out the one that was still echoing in her head morning, noon and night.

Look at her, she’s loving it .

I think she wants it a bit rougher . . .

Emily picked up her phone. She scrolled through her contacts, past the names of people whose voices she was starting to forget.

Jade, Abby, her parents who’d been told she’d gone travelling, and Will, the nice guy she’d been out with twice before Callaghan came knocking and who probably thought she’d ghosted him.

She stopped when she got to the name of the only person she was permitted to talk to. She could contact the police whenever she needed to of course, but the panic buttons in every room were a far quicker way of doing that. There was only one number she could actually call .

Why the hell not?

She needed to talk to someone. Anyone.

She prodded at the red call button. It wasn’t very late, besides which she remembered him saying that he didn’t sleep much anyway, and she could always leave a stupid message if he didn’t answer.

‘Emily? Is everything OK?’

‘Yeah, fine . . . ’

‘Do you want to send another message? I haven’t heard anything from Tom or Nicola.’

‘Right, yeah, no . . . I just fancied a natter.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘It’s no problem if you’re busy.’

‘Well, I was about to lay siege to the Icecrown Citadel,’ Hobbs said.

‘Oh, well . . . sorry.’

‘But I’m sure the other Elf Druids can do without me for ten minutes.’

‘Have you got a girlfriend, Greg?’

Hobbs laughed. ‘Is that question prompted by what I just told you I was doing, or is it more of a general enquiry?’

‘A bit of both,’ she said.

‘Well then, yeah . . . kind of.’

Emily lifted her feet up on to the sofa. ‘ Kind of because she’s a large-breasted alien queen or some even larger-breasted Lara Croft type? I am talking about an actual, three-dimensional woman, Greg.’

‘Oh, she’s definitely real,’ Hobbs said. ‘ Kind of , because I’m not actually sure she wants to be my girlfriend any more.’

‘OK . . . ’

‘Now you’re waiting for me to tell you why, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, obviously,’ Emily said. ‘And don’t leave anything out. I want all the lurid details, in fact the lurider the better.’ She laughed. ‘Is that even a word?’

‘It is now.’

Emily carried on laughing and it took her a while to stop, because it wasn’t something she’d done in a while. ‘So, go on, then,’ she said, eventually. ‘Tell Auntie Emily all about it.’

‘It might take a while.’

‘Fine with me. I’m sure those Elf Lords can manage without you.’

‘Druids,’ Hobbs said.

Emily lay back and closed her eyes. ‘Whatever . . . ’