Free Love Your Enemies by Nicola Barker Page A

like a recipe …?’
    Jane looked uncomprehending, ‘Like what? No, I don’t think so.’
    Stephanie frowned. ‘Like when you first fell in love with Mitch, like when you first decided to have your hair cut, or the feeling you get when you want to dive into a pool but know that the water is cold, but you want to dive in anyway.’
    Jane sipped her lager and watched as one of the men at the bar walked over and put some money into the juke box. Doris Day started singing ‘Move Over Darling’. She tapped her foot in time and tried to respond appropriately to what Stephanie was saying.
    ‘I don’t know what you mean. Did you go swimming after all? Why all this talk about swimming all of a sudden?’
    Stephanie looked crestfallen. She knew that she was already losing Jane’s sympathy. ‘That was a simile. Remember? Like Gerard Manley Hopkins or someone. I was trying to explain a feeling.’
    Jane rolled her eyes. ‘Just tell me what you mean . What about that skinhead, the shoplifter. Did you catch him?’
    Stephanie nodded. ‘Yes, I caught him.’
    ‘And then?’ Jane drained her glass of lager and placed it decisively down on a beermat. Stephanie studied her own glass, watched the condensation on the exterior of its bowl and around its base. The glass left a ring of moisture on the surface of the table when she picked it up. She took a sip and replaced it, but in a different place so that she could study the damp ring on the table’s surface, moisten her finger in the dampness and then draw on the polished wood. She drew another circle. ‘I walked over to him and told him that I knewhe had placed some socks inside his jacket. I asked whether he intended to pay for them.’
    ‘What did he say? Didn’t you try and call the store detective? I would have.’
    Stephanie drew two dots inside the circle and then a straight line. The circle was now a face, a round, rather simple but glum-looking face. ‘No, I didn’t call the store detective. It was almost twenty-to-six. I didn’t want the hassle.’
    ‘Weren’t you frightened?’
    She nodded. ‘I suppose so. He was tall. At first he just stared at me. Then he turned, as if he was going to walk away.’
    ‘And then?’
    ‘I put out my hand and grabbed his arm. He had one of those weird jackets on, a puffy green jacket. He must’ve been almost six feet tall. Mean-looking.’
    Jane stopped tapping her foot as the Doris Day song finished on the juke box. She looked over to see if the two young men at the bar were going to put another song on but they had recently been joined by a third man and were deep in conversation. Stephanie smiled at her. ‘Can I get you another drink yet?’
    Jane shook her head. ‘Not yet. Wait a while. So what happened then?’
    Stephanie looked down at the table again, at the face she had drawn, which was already evaporating. She picked up some more moistness from the ring left by the glass and cut across the face with several rapaid strokes. ‘I took hold of his arm and said, “You can’t leave here until you put those socks back.” He grinned at me and said, “Which socks? I haven’t got any.”’
    ‘Did he pull his arm away?’
    Stephanie looked disconcerted. ‘Um. No. I don’t think he pulled his arm away. It was all very quick. The aisle was empty. The whole shop seemed empty.’
    ‘What did you say then?’
    Stephanie took another sip of her drink. ‘I said, “You have got socks there, I saw you pick them up. I’m not stupid. Please just put them back and I’ll leave you alone.”’
    ‘And did he?’
    She shook her head. ‘No. He looked down at my hand on his arm and started to smile. He said, “I haven’t got any socks, only on my feet.” I said, “I know you’ve got them,” and indicated with my other hand towards a bulge in his jacket where I’d seen him put the socks.’
    ‘Why didn’t you call one of the store detectives? I’m surprised they didn’t notice him come in. Probably on a tea