the items in it, the occupants were doing pretty well for themselves. His eyes fell on a picture that had fallen from the hall table. The glass in the frame had smashed and as he picked it up, shards tinkled onto the polished wooden floor.
She was almost unrecognisable. The photograph showed a laughing, carefree woman with bright green eyes and long, red hair being whipped by the wind. He looked back down. The hair was much shorter now, though still fiery red, the fragile beauty masked beneath layers of bruising and blood.
‘Wonder if this was what started it, Sarge.’ The other policeman had been surveying the apartment as they waited for the ambulance. His partner craned his neck round to look through into the bedroom where the other officer was standing. Two suitcases were packed and the room had been cleared of any female touches.
‘Seems like she wised up.’
Turning back to the semi-conscious figure on the floor, his colleague moved a strand of hair, sticky with blood, from across her eye. ‘Yeah. Just not soon enough,’ he replied sadly as a wailing siren began to close in.
*
Ellie blearily opened her eyes. Rather she opened one. The other remained swollen and shut.
‘Zak?’ she squeaked out. Her throat was sore and tasted funny. Like blood.
Across the room, a mop of floppy blonde hair in a chair started out of a doze. Zak scooted the chair up to the bed and took her small hands in his.
‘Ellie! How are you feeling?’
Ellie raised her one working eyebrow.
‘Sorry! God! Stupid question.’ There was a pause. ‘Bloody hell, Ellie, you look dreadful.’ At least he was honest.
‘Thanks. I feel dreadful.’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s OK. I think we’ve known each other long enough to be insulting. Why change the habit of a lifetime?’ She tried to smile in a way that involved the least amount of muscles as possible.
‘The police are charging him with resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer for a start.’
Ellie nodded, as he continued. ‘They said they’ll be in touch with regards to any charges you want to press.’ He paused. ‘Ellie?’
She knew what was coming. Zak was her closest friend this side of the Atlantic, ever since she had joined his infant publishing group as a contract illustrator seven years ago – an endeavour which had since gone from strength to strength.
Initially Ellie had to admit that she’d thought Zak was the clichéd public-school-boy type who had been given a company to play with by a rich daddy. She soon realised that she’d been too hasty in her assessment of his character. The money to start the company had indeed come from his family but it was in the form of a business loan, to be paid back with interest, just as a standard bank loan would have been. Zak’s father had built up his own very successful business from nothing and Zak intended to do the same. The only thing his father was prepared to offer for free was advice, and then only when it was requested. But Zak had worked hard and his business was doing well, and they were currently in the process of recruiting several more staff.
‘No.’
‘No what?’
‘I’m not going back to him. That is what you were going to ask, isn’t it?’ Ellie turned her bloodshot eye on him.
‘Yes. It was.’ Relief flooded Zak’s face, as he tenderly found an un-bruised piece of Ellie’s and kissed it, very gently squeezing her hands. Ellie looked back at his handsome face. Normally it was full of smiles and laughter, but now it was filled with concern. Concern for her. It was the catalyst she needed. A big tear plopped onto the starched sheets.
‘I’m so sorry!’ she sobbed, emotion breaking her voice. ‘I should have listened to you. I should have left before. It’s just that he would apologise and he seemed to mean it. He really did and then …’ The sobs became more continuous, painfully wracking her broken ribs.
‘I know darling, I know,’ Zak soothed as he stroked her hair. ‘I know.’
*
Three days later, Ellie was released from hospital. Zak collected her and they drove back to his apartment.
‘I am quite capable of being on my own, you know,’ she said, leaning against a countertop in the large kitchen of his Kensington apartment.
‘I know that,’ he replied, glancing back at her bruised face as he poured freshly brewed coffee into two bone china mugs. ‘I just don’t want you to be at the moment.’ He handed her one, taking in her expression as he did so.
‘Indulge me just for a bit,’ he said/ ‘After all, isn’t that what friends are for!’ he asked before proceeding to sing an appropriate line or two in his best, not-very-good Dionne Warwick voice.
‘Zak!’
‘Please. Just for a while.’
Ellie sighed. ‘OK. So long as you promise not to sing.’ Taking her drink, she headed through to the living room and eased herself down on the squashy sofa. Zak followed and sat opposite on its twin. He was wearing his ‘mortified’ face.
‘I’m hurt.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘Fine. Fine,’ he mumbled before his face suddenly brightened. ‘How about humming? I’m pretty good at humming. Or whistling?’ He pursed his lips and blew a few notes before a cushion landed square on his nose. Picking it up, he gave Ellie a wry brow raise. ‘I’m taking it that was also a no.’
‘You’re tone deaf and dogs are beginning to howl, so yes, that was most definitely a no.’
*
‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.’
‘Hmm?’
Zak placed a mug of tea on the low table next to the sofa.
‘What time is it?’
‘Just after seven.’
‘Really?’ Ellie sat up. ‘You should have woken me.’
‘Why? There was nowhere you needed to be. Besides, I think a few snoozes are allowed after what you’ve been through. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re vital.’ Zak was concentrating on dunking a biscuit in his tea.
Ellie smiled. He really was a sweetie. Why on earth she had picked someone like Carl over someone like Zak, she had no explanation for. Not that she and Zak would ever date. They’d just never felt like that about each other. It had been a familial relationship from the first time they’d met. And she was glad. Zak meant the world to her and she certainly wouldn’t have wanted a relationship gone bad resulting in her losing both her lover and her best friend.
‘I spoke to – oh bugger!’
‘What?’
He
