Chapter Two

‘It’s over. Finished. Can’t you get that through your head?’ Nicole’s hand was on the doorknob.

‘No!’ Dave lunged towards the door preventing her from leaving. ‘It can’t be. We love each other,’ his voice faltered.

Nicole looked up at him, and laughed. ‘Love,’ she said. ‘No it was never that. Attraction maybe, lust certainly. But never love.’

He reached for her, entwining his fingers in her blonde hair. ‘But I gave up everything for you.’ He fought against the tears pricking behind his eyes. Men didn’t cry.

‘Then you’re a bigger fool than I took you for.’ Nicole shook his hand off, and glared at him through icy blue eyes. ‘But you said you loved me. You said if I promised to divorce my wife, you’d divorce Scott and marry me.’

‘Words, words.’ Nicole laughed harshly.

His eyes filled with tears, and he ran his fingers through his short brown hair. ‘You knew I’d phoned her to say I was coming home to talk things over.’

‘That’s your problem, now get out of my way, and go back to your wife. At least she wants you.’

For a moment Dave wanted to put his hands round her lovely white neck and squeeze. But damn-it-all, he still loved her. ‘I can’t live without you, Nicole.’ He despised himself for having to plead.

‘Tough,’ she said, pushing him aside.

Despair flooded through him and he stood away from the door. ‘I won’t be responsible for my actions if you leave.’

‘You do whatever you have to do.’ Nicole hesitated in the doorway before stepping through it into the darkness of the corridor. ‘But I’m going and I’m not coming back.’

He followed her. ‘Don’t go,’ he said, catching the entry door before it swung shut, but she was already running up the street to her car. He watched until she was out of sight. Then, swearing loudly, he kicked the door shut and thumped the corridor wall with his fist. An upstairs door opened sending a sliver of light through the gloom of the landing. ‘Nosy sod,’ he shouted and the door closed.

He massaged his hand as he entered his own flat. It seemed empty without her. Picking up the framed photograph, he caressed the face with his fingers. But even her laughing image seemed to be mocking him and he laid it face down on the table. His fingers lingered on it for a moment, wanting to turn it over again, but he could not bear to see the mockery in her eyes. Anger surged through him, his fingers tightened on the frame and he threw the picture across the room. It hit the wall and boomeranged back to him, coming to rest at his feet. He ground his foot on top of it, and then covered his face with his hands. Life hardly seemed to be worth living without her.

The sound of the doorbell woke him out of his misery. No one ever came here except her. She must have returned.

‘I knew you’d come back,’ he said, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor.

The door at the end was open, although he was sure he had closed it when he came back. A faint light from the street filtered in, but the hallway was empty. The stairs at the other end of the corridor were shrouded in darkness. There was no movement or sound from them, so he knew it had not been one of his upstairs neighbours who had rung his doorbell or left the outside door open. It must have been Nicole with one of her unpredictable changes of mind. His heart lightened. She had come back, but had not stayed. That meant there was hope for him and their relationship, for he knew she was like a bird beating its wings in a headwind, blowing this way and that, ruled by the turbulence of her emotions.

He ran down the corridor to the front door. If he could catch her he would persuade her to stay. But there was no Nicole and her car had gone.

His shoulders slumped and the weight on his heart returned. Tears blinded his eyes so he did not see one of the shadows on the stairs detach itself and move towards him. And he did not expect the ligature round his neck as he turned to enter his room.