33
I don’t even look at the screen. Not properly. Just enough to find the green answer button.
‘Just f**k off!’ My voice is strained and staccato. I struggle to push the words out between heaving sobs. Even with the blood rushing in my ears, I can hear quite quickly there’s another noise on the line which wasn’t there a moment ago. It sounds like traffic, and a passing train.
‘Alice? Is that you? Are you alright?’ the voice asks. I vaguely recognise it, but I can’t pitch it. I pull the phone away from my cheek and wipe my eyes, trying to focus on the blurred screen. I can just about make out the name. Simon.
‘Yes. Sorry,’ I reply, trying to force the sobs back down. It’s too late, though. There’s no way in hell I can make out that I’m not upset or haven’t been crying. I’m just going to
