Lizzie

‘Who is it?’ I call, voice shaking.

A familiar voice comes from the other side of the door. ‘It’s me. Stuart.’

‘I’m a bit upset, Stuart. Now isn’t a good time.’

‘Let me in,’ Stuart calls, voice deep but soft.

I don’t answer.

‘Lizzie, I heard shouting. I need to make sure you’re okay.’

‘I’m okay,’ I call back.

‘If you don’t open the door, I’m going to break it down.’

‘Okay, okay, I’m coming.’ I go to the door, put a hand to it, then slowly turn the Yale lock.

Stuart fills the doorway with his tall, broad frame, and for a moment I wonder what it would be like being his girlfriend instead of Olly’s.

Stuart is handsome, like Olly, but with a broken nose that kinks in the middle. He’s a little older – nearing forty – and his brown hair recedes slightly at the temples, which I think is why he often wears hats.

‘Doll.’ Stuart’s eyes crinkle with sadness. ‘Are you okay?’

I give a stiff nod.

‘Did he do this?’ Stuart touches the long, linear bruise on my arm.

I nod again, looking away.

‘I’ll kill him. This has to stop.’

‘No. Please, Stuart. He’s getting better. Truly.’ I don’t know if I believe this. All I know is I want to believe it.

‘Where’s the baby?’

‘Olly took him out. They’re visiting his mother. Margaret.’

Stuart puts his arms around me. ‘You deserve so much better. Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.’

I give a half-hearted laugh.

‘That’s better. So what happened? Do you want to talk about it?’

‘What’s there to talk about?’

‘You. Olly. The future. You can’t go on like this.’

‘He’s a good father. He does things to hurt me, but he loves Tom.’

‘Are you sure about that? How can you be? I hear some of the things he says. Blaming you for his bad leg. Calling you names. A man like that is capable of anything.’ Stuart takes my face in his large hands, and I feel tiny – a little girl beside a giant. He has coarse, brown stubble and lovely white teeth. And really, he’s very kind.

Stuart kisses me gently and then with increasing pressure. He pulls my body tight to his. Perhaps I should say no – he’d back off, be a gentleman about it. But I don’t. Olly is right. I don’t plan. Things just happen to me. And right now, this tenderness feels wonderful.

‘Run away with me, Doll,’ Stuart whispers. ‘How many times do I have to ask?’ He lifts me into his arms and carries me out of the flat and downstairs to his own ground-floor apartment.

Anyone could see us. Olly. Anyone.

But they don’t.

Stuart kicks his door closed behind us, staring deep into my eyes like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

The next minute, he is lifting my dress over my head, pushing me onto the sofa. Then he pulls off my knickers, positioning himself between my legs, holding me close, moaning and calling my name as he enters me.

We have sex in different positions, ending with me on my knees by the window wearing nothing but a bra, Stuart behind. He is a little rough sometimes, not realising how strong he is. Or maybe he enjoys throwing me around. I don’t know. Maybe all men are violent deep down.

When we’re finished, Stuart asks me again to leave Olly. He can finish his current contract any time. His family have property in the Shetlands.

But Stuart isn’t Olly. Despite his kindness, he doesn’t make me feel the way Olly does. When Olly and I have sex it’s like two souls coming together. We become one person, which both scares and thrills me. And, of course, Olly and I have a child.

So I crawl back upstairs and pray my husband never finds out about another stupid mistake.