Don't Get Caught

Chapter 14 - Ariel

Now, I'd known some interesting men in my time. I'd been with guys from all walks of life, religions and ethnicities. Tall, short, fat, thin, ugly, good-looking, introverts, extroverts, smart, stupid, rich, poor, cool, geeky, abled, disabled, old, young, married, single. My little black book was full to bursting.

What was missing from my repertoire was a murderer.

For a moment I thought I might pass out. I gripped the steering wheel, making my fingers hurt. What the actual fuck? A flood of emotions hit me. The first was fear. I'd been sleeping with a murderer; I'd been at his house alone with him many times. The second was anger. How could Danny do something like this and then run from it? How could he keep it from me? And finally, doubt. Danny wasn't a murderer. He'd been arrested but not found guilty yet. He was most probably innocent.

But he had known this day was coming. I'm scared of getting caught.

I should do something but I had no idea what. If I went to visit Danny, he would be mad at me for tracking him down. But I couldn't just do nothing. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I didn't speak to Hasmita and Leah about it. I already knew what they would say.

I also didn't know what to do about the additional information I had. There was the unopened package for a start. I could open it; find out what he'd ordered. Perhaps it was nothing – maybe some more paint. Or it might tell me something new about him. And I also had his surname now, but I was too afraid to look him up.

The Amazon parcel sat on my kitchen table for a couple of days until I finally caved and opened it. With the box still on the table, I ran a knife down the tape holding it together and unfolded the flaps to reveal--just a book. And an innocuous one at that. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. So, Danny can read. I flung the box and its contents onto the cold tiled floor in frustration, raking my fingers through my hair.

After a few days more of disorientation, off I went to the prison for visiting hours. I'd booked my slot and just hoped that Danny would agree to see me. I walked from Brixton station through the busy town into what appeared to be a quiet residential area, when suddenly the large grey building rose from the streets and loomed over me. It gave me chills. People lived around here and yet right in the midst of everyday life stood a building full of criminals.

It was intimidating walking in the front entrance, immediately out of my depth as I was searched by a large, angry-looking man and sent through to a holding room where I waited.

Finally, I was allowed through to the visiting area and I sat at my empty table as the prisoners started to file in, with my heart in my mouth as I waited. I was frightened to see him, but also scared that he wouldn't show. I assumed he still had the freedom to refuse visitors.

When he walked through the door, nausea gripped my stomach. He was wearing a grey tracksuit and, as he approached, I could see he hadn't shaved in a while. He looked like a stranger to me. My blood ran cold. His expression was hard - his mouth in a straight line, his eyes narrow. I swallowed uncomfortably as he sat down opposite me. He didn't speak.

"Hi," I squeaked. I coughed and tried again. "Hi."

Danny shook his head but his expression didn't change and he didn't say anything. He was definitely angry. So why see me then? Why not stay away?

"I had to come... I'm sorry. I know you must hate me," I stammered.

I needed him to say something to break the tension. I chewed the inside of my lip while I waited.

"I've been worried about you," I continued, to fill the silence. "Are you OK? Are you having a trial? I guess you have a good lawyer?"

"You don't want to know if I did it?" His voice sounded different too. What the hell was I doing there? I didn't know this man. I never had.