A jab to the belly and another to the tits had shut her up and put her down on the floor. Now he straddled her chest, knees pressed down on to her arms, his hands pulling at his own hair in frustration.
'We were going to do the business later on. I was well up for it and tonight could have been the night we did something special. Made a new life.'
'Lee, please…'
'You. Fucking. Spoiled. It.'
'We can still do it, Lee. Let's go upstairs now. I'm really horny, Lee…'
He shook his head, disgusted, gathering the spit into his mouth. She knew what was coming, he could see it in her eyes and he waited for her to try and turn her head away as he leaned down and pushed the saliva between his teeth. Instead, she just closed her eyes, and he thought he saw something like a smile as he let a thick string of beery spit drop slowly down on to her face.
As soon as the seven o'clock news had begun, Alan reached for the phone and dialled the number.
It was answered almost immediately, but nobody spoke.
Alan whispered, realized as soon as he had that he was being stupid. He wasn't the one who needed to be secretive.
'Rachel, it's me…'
Suddenly, there was a noise, above the hiss and crackle on the line. It was a guttural sound that echoed. That it took him a few moments to identify. An animal sound: a gulp and a grind, a splutter and a swallow. It was the sound of someone sobbing uncontrollably but trying with every ounce of strength to assert control. Trying desperately not to be heard.
Alan sat up straight, pressed the phone hard to his ear.
'Rachel, I'm here, OK? I'm not going anywhere.'
He watched the comings and goings with something like amusement.
For a fortnight he watched her leave the house in Barnet mid-morning, then come home again by late-afternoon. He stayed with her most of the day when he could, saw her meet him in the woods or sometimes go straight to his flat when they couldn't be arsed with preliminaries.
When they wanted to get straight down to it.
He watched her leave the flat, eyes bright and hair wet. The smell of one man scrubbed away before she went home to another.
He wondered if the man he saw climbing into the silver sports car every morning knew that he was a cuckold. On a couple of occasions he thought about popping a note under his windscreen to let him know. Just to stir things up a bit.
He hadn't done because he didn't want to do anything that might disturb the routine. Not now that he was ready to take her. Besides, mischief for its own sake was not his thing at all.
Still, he couldn't help but marvel at the things people got up to.
On the day Alan had hoped to give Rachel the bracelet, his mother tripped on the stairs.
So many things that could have been different…
Two weeks before, the jeweller had shown him a catalogue. There had been charms that would have carried more or less the same meaning but Alan knew what he wanted. He'd ordered one specially made. He'd decided against the diamond spots and gone for the enamel, but still, it wasn't cheap. He'd thought of it as a dozen decent sessions with one of his private patients. He always thought in those terms whenever he wanted to splash out on something.
A fortnight later, half an hour before he was due to meet Rachel in the woods, he walked out on to Bond Street with the bracelet. Then, his mother called.
'Don't worry, Alan. It's just my ankle, it's nothing…'
A message that said 'Come and see me now, if you give a shit.'
He phoned Rachel and left a message of his own. She was probably on her way already, was almost certainly somewhere on the Northern Line. He made for the underground himself, steeling himself for the trip to his mother's warden-controlled flat in Swiss Cottage.
As he walked, he realized that his mother would see the bag. It was purple with white cord handles and the name of the jeweller in gold lettering. He couldn't show her the bracelet for obvious reasons…
He decided that if she asked he'd tell her he'd bought himself a new watch…
Lee wasn't stupid – God, it would all have been a lot easier if he were – but it couldn't be very much longer before he noticed how often she was going to the toilet or taking a shower just before seven o'clock…
She collected her bag on the way upstairs, then, once she'd locked the bathroom door, she switched the phone on, set it to vibrate only, and waited.
Tonight she was desperate, had been since Alan had failed to meet her at lunchtime. She'd waited in the woods for twenty minutes before she'd got a signal, before the alert had come through. She'd listened to his message once then erased it as always. Walked back towards the tube, unravelling.
Sitting with her back against the side of the bath, she thought there was every chance that he might not ring at all. His excuse for not turning up had sounded very much like an excuse. Not that she could blame him for wanting to call a halt to things; she knew how hard it was for him in so many ways…
She almost dropped the phone when it jumped in her hand.
'Where were you?'
'Didn't you get the message? I was at my bloody mother's.'
'I thought you might have made it up.'
'Jesus, Rachel.'
'Sorry
A sigh. Half a minute of sniffs and swallows.
'God, I wish I could see you,' he said. 'Now, I mean. I've got something for you. I wanted to give it to you this afternoon…'
'I'd like to see you too.'
'Can you?'
The hope in his voice clutched at her. 'There might be a way…'
'By the tree in half an hour. The woods don't shut until eight.'
'I'll try.'
When she'd hung up she dialled another number. She spoke urgently for a minute, then hung up again. When she heard the landline ringing a few moments later she flushed the toilet and stepped out of the bathroom.
Lee was holding the phone out for her when she walked into the lounge. She took it and spoke, hoped he could hear the shock and concern in her voice despite the fact that he hadn't bothered to turn the television down.
'That was Sue,' she said afterwards. 'Her brother's been in a car accident. Some idiot talking on his mobile phone, ploughed into the back of him on the motorway. I said I'd go round…'
Lee's team had been awarded a penalty. Without turning round to her, he waved his consent.
He was astonished to see her leave the house alone at night. The husband did of course, jumped in his sports car every so often to collect a takeaway or shoot down to the off licence, but never her…
He'd been planning to do it during the day; he knew the quiet places now, the dead spots en route where he could take her with very little risk, but he wasn't a man to look a gift horse in the mouth.
This was perfect, and he was as ready as he'd ever be.
He presumed she'd be heading for the tube at High Barnet. He got out of his car and followed her.
It took Alan ten minutes to get to the woods. By half past seven he'd got everything arranged.
He hadn't wanted to just give her the bracelet. He'd wanted her to come across it, to find it as if by some piece of good fortune. Luck had played such a big part in their coming together, after all, which is why he'd chosen the charm that he had. There was only really one place that he could leave it…
The light was fading fast. The few people he saw were all moving towards one or other of the various exits. He dialled her number.
'It's me. You're probably still on the tube. Listen, come to the tree but don't worry if you can't see me. I'll be nearby, but there's something I want you to find first. Stand where the ball was found, then look up. OK? I'll see you soon.'