‘Who is she, Russ. I mean, that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Who is she?’ Russ sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘There is no she, Liz. This is about you and me.’ ‘Oh, bullshit Russell. Men don’t dump a woman like me unless there is someone else involved. You’re a fucking liar,’ she screamed. There were tears flowing now, and Russ got up from the bed. ‘Stay the fuck over there,’ Liz screamed. She grabbed the alarm clock from the dresser and hurled it at Russ, connecting with his shoulder. ‘Just leave me alone.’ Liz finished dressing and grabbed her jacket. ‘I’m going to tell you something, mister. I’m going to figure out who this bitch is, and I’m going to ruin it for you. I can’t believe what a prick you are.’ With those words, Liz turned on her heel and burst from the room. She slammed the door as hard as she could on the way out of the house, and Russ sat alone in silence. Russell Abbott married young and was divorced by thirty. He had spent the previous five years chasing an array. I pulled off at the services and drove into the usual expanse of tarmac, thankfully quiet, but still so exposed. I decided to park in a corner farthest away from the buildings, in the hope of affording myself some privacy from prying eyes. I reversed into the space so I could face the incoming traffic, turned off the engine and sat back to wait.Barely had my engine stopped than my phone beeped a text message – black car to your right, get out and walk to it. I looked round but the only car that could fit the description was about 50 metres away in the opposite corner beside a few picnic tables clumped together. No way could that be him, could it? I was tempted to reply to the text but had been told never to respond to messages, simply obey them. I looked again and as I did the headlights flashed twice, shit, that really was the car and he wanted me to walk to him. I thought there and then of backing out, of simply driving home and putting the whole thing down to a perverted fantasy,.
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