Three Steps Behind You (22 page)

‘Here I am!’ she says. Her eyes are wide, like the time on the dodgems. She does not look much fresher. I lean round her into the room, allowing my arm to graze her shoulder, to turn off the light.

As I do so, I see that the duvet has been lifted. And the treasure chest has been moved.

‘Come on then, Dan, let’s go and eat. Mm, I’m really hungry!’ Nicole takes hold of my arm and starts trying to drag me from the bedroom.

‘You go through,’ I say. ‘I need to use the bathroom, too.’

But I don’t go to the en suite. When she is gone, I approach the bed. I pick up the box. The catch is open. I look inside. Book three is turned in on itself, handwriting showing, rather than cover.

Nicole has read book three.

So she knows.

BOOK 3

6 January 2007

Today is epiphany day, says my diary. So a perfect day to share my epiphany. I know that is meant to happen at the end of a book. They taught me that much, in the classes, in Feltham. But why waste time? I know now what I must do
.

Here it is: I must rape Adam
.

Rape is such an ugly word. It will not be an ugly act. All I mean is, that Adam will not surrender to me willingly. So he must surrender unwillingly. Which, in the eyes of the world, is rape
.

And the thing is, I must have him. When I wake up, it’s Adam. When I eat, it’s Adam. When I shower, when I walk, when I wank, when I work, when I sleep, and when I dream – particularly when I dream – it’s Adam
.

Which
means, it is my calling to be with him. Truly with him. As close as two people can ever possibly be
.

I tried to explain that, with book two, but he wouldn’t hear me. He wasn’t open to me, then
.

But he’ll have to be, now
.

7 January 2007

Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam.
ADAM, ADAM, ADAM, ADAM, ADAM.

8 January 2007

I apologise for yesterday. I was too excited to write anything other than what I felt
.

Since then, I have made some better plans
.

Much as I would like Adam to open his arms to me, to embrace me, to realise it is me, and to love me, I am not naïve. That is why I am using force. I will need a disguise, and an alibi. And a night when Helen is out
.

Helen. She does not know how lucky she is. In her head, I bet it is like this:

CLOTHES
SHOES BABY Adam CUPCAKES BABY

When really she should just devote all her thoughts to him
.

Inside his head, I wonder what it is like. I wish it was:

DAN DAN DAN

but I suspect it is:

BONDS STOCKS SHARES FELTHAM HELEN BABY BONUS oh here’s Dan round for dinner.

What a waste
.

9 January 2007

Shopping list:

Duct tape rolls x 2

Handcuffs

Gloves

Condoms (extra-strong)

Balaclava

Chloroform

Whisky

And yoghurt. I like yoghurt
.

11 January 2007

B&Q don’t sell chloroform. Nor do Pets at Home, Superdrug or Boots
.

But luckily I have found some on the Internet. I did not use my real name. I am not stupid. I used Luke
.

12 January 2007

Helen goes out to paint flowers every Monday evening. She doesn’t paint the actual flowers. They already have colours on them. No, she paints them using oil on canvas. I bet she rubs her great big belly while she is doing it. She can probably hardly get close to the canvas – just flicks paint at it, all modern arty RUBBISH. Probably gets it in her hair and thinks it’s sexy. Rather than just dirty. And fake, on her already fake hair dye. Oh yes, I’ve seen the bottles, in that mouldy bathroom. She displayed some of it once, the art. I thought a child had drawn it. Except they can’t, from inside the womb, I’ve heard. I saw better pictures inside Feltham. Darker, maybe – literally, a full black wash, with maybe just some shadows on it – but better. More expressive
.

Anyway, never mind whether her ‘art’ is any good. The point is, every Monday, there she is. Cycles. Even though she’s pregnant, she wobbles along on her bicycle – wobble, wobble, wobble, jelly on a bike
.

Which means Adam is home alone
.

17 January 2007

You cannot write every day, because sometimes things are too exciting to write. Although I know I must commit to this project, because I will want to look back later and cherish it. But today is exciting, because I watched a film and it gave me an idea. It was
The Importance of Being Earnest
. In that, there is a man with a sick friend near death in the countryside who always needs looking after when the man wants to have an excuse for being out of town. There are always lots of aunts, who it is universally acknowledged are all-powerful, and not to be challenged
.

Therefore, I will have an aunt. She will be sick, and need visiting. For two weeks beforehand, I will go and care for her
.

18 January 2007

I have asked work for three weeks’ compassionate leave to look after my aunt. It turns out she is called Belinda. They asked why three weeks. I said that her usual carer is in Spain. Belinda has advanced MS. It is very sad
.

19 January 2007

Shopping list: three weeks’ supply of food, and an open return railway ticket to Bath. That is where Belinda lives. I must be consistent. But I mustn’t leave the house
.

The chloroform arrived today
.

21 January 2007

Imagine that moment, how complete, how sublime it will be. I will be so close to him, utterly at one. And the pleasure, of course, the ultimate excitement, the bliss that I will feel, so erect, so turned on, so

Later, 21 January 2007

Sorry, I had to stop writing. Got a bit carried away
.

Visiting Adam tomorrow, to tell him I need to go away. I am bringing a cake too, because it’s Helen’s birthday. They trust me not to poison the cake, which is good of them. I am told it must be cooked properly because otherwise the Helen-Adam creation in her stomach will die. What a shame
.

I told Helen I learnt to cook in Feltham. Adam began shaking his head at me. Helen took him for better or for worse (I know, I was there) but he is not prepared to share the worst with her. Feltham is our secret. And actually, it makes me feel much more positive about what I’m doing. Because Adam knew, with that girl, that she didn’t want him. But he said that we should just take her anyway. So I know that really he would approve of me doing what I’m doing. If it weren’t to him
.

The recipe (for cake, not rape) is 4 eggs, 400g flour, 400g sugar, 400g margarine. No wonder pregnant women are so fat
.

22 January 2007

I thought my heart would break today when I said goodbye to Adam. I told him I was leaving for three weeks to go to care for Aunt Belinda. He was very sad, too, but he hid it well. I told him I would call while I was gone. He told me not to worry about it, which is good of him. It was like Feltham all over again. I thought, when we arrived there, that we would always be together. During the first strip search, the initiation, I didn’t mind, my thoughts were elsewhere. They’re sure to put me and Adam together, I thought. And he won’t be able to try to give me his own space, like when I had to share his room, before his parents opened up the box room. I know he was only being considerate then, spending so much time out of the room, coming in after I’d gone to sleep, getting into his own bed without talking
.

Yes, I thought, we will have our own little room. And I felt so happy. Too happy – the person strip-searching me cleared his throat several times about the extent of my happiness. I’d heard all about Feltham before I got there. Adam’s mother had told us, over breakfast, in tears. I knew its reputation. I knew we’d be locked up for maybe twenty-two hours a day if we’d been bad, and that we’d have to form our own gang to survive. Lie down with me, I would say one night, that we may become one flesh. That way, we’d be our own gang forever
.

But it didn’t go like that, in Feltham. Our own rooms, not even next to each other. Heartbreak as they locked us in. Locked us apart. Adam was so brave. He managed not to cry
.

When I got to Adam’s today, I found Helen had bought a cake from Louis Patisserie for her birthday, ‘just in case I forgot’. Bitch. I sat in the garden with her niece and some champagne, and a poison tongue. Helen started hinting towards the door early. I told her I was going anyway, because of Belinda. I showed her the train ticket. When the door shut, I heard Adam telling her not to be so harsh on me, I’m not that bad really. He had to tone it down: he couldn’t say, ‘that’s my best mate, be nice to him’, because Helen thinks she is his best mate. She said so, in her wedding speech. That is ridiculous, but it’s kind of Adam to humour her. At the wedding, he kissed her to shut her up. He could just have shoved all the taffeta into her mouth, like a gag. There was a lot of taffeta, and pearls, and violins, and chauffeurs, and men with matching waistcoats. Except me, of course. I didn’t match. Just sat and watched him, and all that money on display
.

But anyway, enough of that. Because finally, it’s about doing, not watching. Two weeks today. Fifth February, I will live again
.

23 January 2007

AD (Adam & Dan) minus 13 days
.

I wish I hadn’t bought quite so much tinned tuna. It is not very tasty. And of course there is the danger of mercury poisoning. Tomorrow I will switch to spam and crisps
.

24 January 2007

AD minus 12 days
.

The doorbell rang today. I had to sit very still inside and not breathe. I don’t know who it was. But I wasn’t in
.

Other things today: I am practising my technique. Not for that bit. That will come naturally. No, the disabling bit, with the chloroform. I am going to try it on myself to see if it works
.

26 January 2007

AD minus 10 days
.

Sorry for the gap. Chloroform works. But I think I used too much
.

Also, spam lives up to its reputation. I will go back to tuna
.

27 January 2007

AD -9
.

Adam
.

The perfect man, the ultimate sire
.

Adam
.

Friend of old, lover new
.

Adam
.

Two becomes one, I become you
.

Adam
.

Feel no pain, only desire
.

Adam
.

Dan
.

Me
.

You
.

Us
.

Now
.

Yes
.

28 January 2007

AD -8? About midnight, so not sure. At all, whether I should do it, any of it
.

Because what if he knows it is me? I mean, he is not stupid. He knows how I feel about him; he’s read book two. He will
know
. And then I will go to prison, and he’ll get a restraining order, and he’ll never see me again. And I’ll get raped, all the time, because this will be big boys’ prison, with people who aren’t afraid of their sexuality, are old enough not to care what people say, not like Feltham
.

I need to get Aunt Belinda to speak to Adam. That will do it. Then he will know it could not possibly be me, because I genuinely am here with my aunt. The day of the rape? No, too obvious. A couple of days before. I can call him, she can speak in the background
.

I do a convincing falsetto. I’ll record it onto a tape. Then I’ll press play, while I’m on, muffled in the background, calling me back
.

2 a.m.

But how will I get into the house without him knowing it is me? How will he not just pull off my balaclava and call the police?

4 a.m.

Pretend to be a motorbike-riding gas man. Wear a crash helmet over the balaclava. When he opens the door, come inside and use chloroform immediately
.

Who would open the door to a man in a crash helmet?

I don’t even have a crash helmet
.

Better use the spare key, then sneak in, wearing mask. He’ll be watching TV, on the sofa, back to the door. If he’s not, use the baseball bat. It won’t be fatal; I won’t hit him hard
.

7 a.m.

Maybe I should just write him a love letter, tell him again how I feel. Maybe I can get him to consent. That would be simpler. Less risky
.

Dear Adam
, it would go
,

We are two of the same. Feltham taught us that, and before Feltham, school.

Just the two of us, inseparable, remember how it was, before the others came along.

We could be like that again. Adam and Dan. Dan and Adam.

It is impossible for you not to love me. I love you so much, you see, that it must be reciprocated. You must no longer repress that feeling when we look into each other’s eyes, that shiver when I stroke your skin, that obsessional need to see you every day. You feed me your food and I feast on your love.

Lust, Adam, is even better. Taste the forbidden fruit. You know you want to. Kisssss me, snake your hands around me, twist yourself round my trunk and reach up to pick the fruits of your desire.

Allow me, let me, love you. As a favour to a friend. A one-off gift. Let me inside, just this once.