The next few hours were slow and turgid. The man, who she now knew was called Alex, walked her across the hospital car park into A&E. The reception area was bright and bustling, full of people whose Friday night, like Lenny’s, had not gone quite as planned. As she spoke to the receptionist, Lenny was aware of her recovered house keys being pressed into her palm. When she was asked to take a seat, Lenny turned to find herself abandoned in a room filled with the sick and injured.

Eventually, she was ushered into a cubicle. A cursory examination by the doctor revealed nothing was broken but she could expect symptoms of concussion and whiplash. Nonetheless, they wanted to keep her in until x-rays could be taken and the results examined. A nurse tended to her surface wounds quickly and efficiently. She paused in her ministrations and gazed at Lenny pensively, pulling a card from her pocket. ‘You don’t have to put with this. There are people you can talk to.’

Lenny laughed bitterly at the nurse’s misconception. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she said. The nurse gave her a pitying look and pointedly left the card on the bed, informing Lenny that she would be collected for an x-ray as soon as possible.

Surprisingly, she didn’t have to wait long and soon enough she was returned to another cubicle to wait with nothing but a cup of greasy coffee for company until the results came back. 

From within the curtained sanctuary, she could hear footsteps and trolleys passing by – everyone seemed to be in such a hurry and yet it took an eternity for anything to happen. In here, for the first time since she’d arrived, Lenny had a chance to reflect on the evening’s events.

During the drive to the hospital, Alex explained that as he stood outside the shop, he noticed Christian hovering at the corner of the other side of the street. When Lenny left the store, Alex watched him follow her down the road and round the corner.

‘It was ... inappropriate.’  Alex spoke with a low voice and a vague Eastern European accent. He used very few words but expressed himself quite succinctly, choosing his words with care. He was silent for a moment, chewing on his lower lip, anxious and distracted.

‘Will you go to the police?’ he had asked as he walked Lenny to the entrance doors at Accident and Emergency.

‘I suppose I should, don’t you?’

Lenny sensed his unease as it mingled with her own. Christian had stirred up a great disquiet within her. That she had not seen the signs made her feel sick inside. She could have taken control of the situation and tonight would never have happened. She was grateful for Alex’s intervention but what next?  She wouldn’t feel safe until she knew where Christian was. Lenny realised she had no choice but to report the assault.

It was just before four in the morning now. The cubicle curtain rattled to one side; her doctor, pale and hollow-eyed reported an all clear from the x-rays. She gave Lenny a prescription for painkillers and declared her fit to go. As she stepped out into the waiting area, Lenny felt a rising tide of fatigue and anxiety.

She crossed over to the payphone to call a taxi, hand shaking slightly as she lifted the handset. With the other hand, she fumbled to fetch some coins from her bag, dropped it and then dropped the coins. She wanted to cry. Swearing softly, she crouched down to pick up her belongings and became aware of a pair of suede trainers in her line of vision. She looked up, past the faded jeans and the baggy olive green sweater under the ancient black leather coat into Alex’s face.

‘Want a lift?’ he asked.

Other than asking for the address, Alex kept his own counsel on the drive home. Lenny was grateful for this; it allowed her to stare blankly out into the waking streets and their inhabitants. The dog walkers, the joggers, newsagents rolling up their shutters and taking in their daily delivery of tabloids and broadsheets. Inside, however, was a different matter. Her mind raced and scrambled over an overwhelming mountain of information she hadn’t had time or the strength to process. Hundreds of questions, so few answers. And what the hell was she doing accepting a lift from a stranger after nearly getting herself raped only a few hours earlier?

She looked down at her hands lying limply in her lap. God, she needed to get out of these clothes. They felt tight and gritty, like her skin, and she shifted in the seat trying to get comfortable.

‘Pull up by the post box, that’ll be fine, thank you,’ she said as they entered her street. Alex slid the car into a parking space, knocked the gear into neutral and switched off the engine. He got out, opened the passenger door and walked Lenny to the front door, waiting patiently as she searched for her keys. She paused, hand half raised to the lock. Not daring to meet his eyes, she addressed the door.

‘I don’t know how to thank you. I really thought he was going to … you know. And then you turned up and …’ she faltered, painfully aware words were falling out of her mouth unchecked. She shuddered and said simply, ‘He has my address.’

Turning to face him, Lenny took a deep breath. ‘I’m stalling because I’m scared he’ll be here. Would you come in – just for a minute?  Please?’  There was a hint of desperation in her voice and she immediately hated herself for it.

Alex regarded her for a while, his hooded dark eyes giving nothing away. Then, like a cloud shadow moving away from the hillside, she saw a fleeting softness before he dropped his gaze to the floor.

‘Okay,’ he said.

It was not a particularly large house, a simple Victorian terrace she and David had bought soon after they were married. Alex took his bearings and bounded up the stairs in just a few steps. She heard him move from room to room as she stood at the foot of the stairs, and watched him apprehensively as he descended.

‘It’s good,’ he confirmed as he passed her in the hall and walked into the lounge. He made his way to the kitchen at the rear and before she could stop him, he was filling the kettle, pulling mugs from the draining rack and rooting through drawers for teaspoons. Even in his busy-ness, there was something very still and deeply sound in his presence. Not just his grounded stance; every movement was made with grace and quiet confidence.

Lenny leaned against the door frame, watching this stranger quite at home in her kitchen. She took in the black hair, olive skin and dark eyes. There were so many Eastern European immigrants in Bedford these days; mostly Poles, some from countries she never heard of.  Lenny had a good idea where Alex came from; he looked a lot like one of David’s friends, except Simon had the inescapable Jewish nose.

‘Are you Russian, Alex?’ she asked.

Another brief smile. ‘How did you know?’

‘David – my husband – he was Russian.  His parents came to England between the World Wars to escape the fighting.’

Alex nodded solemnly, staring at the counter. ‘Fighting is never good. Necessary sometimes, but not good.’

Lenny thought he suddenly looked older; his face was drawn and sallow.  She wondered if he had been in the military himself. It was very possible. Most children from Eastern Europe knew how to strip and reassemble a rifle by the time they were ten.

A disquiet thought worked its way to the forefront of her mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her looking and raised an eyebrow in question.

‘What happened?  To Christian, I mean, where did he go?’ she asked.

‘He left.’ Alex looked out of the window as if to gather his thoughts before speaking again. ‘He won’t trouble you again,’ he said eventually.

Lenny’s jaw dropped. ‘Jesus! Are you telling me that you hurt him?!’

A small fluid shrug. ‘Only a little.’

There was an awkward pause as Lenny tried to define how she felt about this news. She broke the silence by saying she needed to change out of her clothes. Upstairs, she stuffed the garments she was wearing into a plastic bag and quickly pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms and a hooded sweatshirt. Not knowing what the protocol was, she decided to shower after she spoke to the police. When she came down, Alex was standing in the lounge in front of a pen and ink drawing hung by the lounge door, holding two mugs. His cup was already half-empty.

'You drew this?’ he asked without looking away from the picture, offering her the full cup. Lenny murmured her assent. ‘I did all of these, actually.’

Alex’s eyes did not follow her hand as she gestured around the room to a number of paintings and drawings. He was focused on the image of a group of wolves streaming forward from a midnight forest, the pack leader appearing to leap straight out of the frame.

‘I like this one,’ he stated. Draining his mug, he placed it on the coffee table and took his car key from his pocket. Lenny could not suppress the dismay she felt at his leaving so soon. He caught her expression and smiled kindly.

‘You’ll be alright.’ Self-consciously, he patted her arm as he would a male companion and moved out into the hallway.

‘I have to call the police,’ she blurted out.

Alex nodded ruefully and let himself out, taking the aura of calm and confidence with him. Tears pricked her eyes and she rubbed them away with the heel of her palm. She suddenly felt cast adrift, a watered down memory of the abandonment she felt after David died.