Part 3. This is going to get happier very soon, I promise! Huge thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far: Thyqua, gemS, heleni0, Amy, Starr123, Em, Lizzi, Lauren, Vixi89 & dinabar, please keep them coming, and now is the time to review if you haven't done so yet :)

Love Flossie xxx

Sheila goes out with her mate Stella,

Gets poured all over her fella,

Because she says that he ain't no better,

Than the next man kicking up fuss,

Drunk, she stumbles down by a river,

Screams calling 'London',

But none of us heard her coming,

Guess the carpet weren't rolled out.

You've come to the conclusion that you're friendless, as well as without a family. You've gone through your entire phonebook three times now, and you've realized that there are 5 people you'd consider calling in a situation like this: Harry, Leo, Janet, Sara Laurence and Martha. Trouble is, you've tried Harry countless times, you've already ruled out Leo and Janet, and Sara and Martha are an 11 hour flight away; hardly practical for coming to pick you up in the early hours of the morning. So that leaves you alone, drunk out of your mind and lost, without a clue as to what to do next. You can't seem to think forward, to find a solution; all you can do is look back. Look back and regret not going home after you walked out of the restaurant, after you saw Andrew for the sex-obsessed bastard he really was and got out of there as fast as you could.

Nikki sighed softly to herself as she perched on the edge of the bar stool, staring aimlessly into the depths of her 4th glass of wine. What with that and the bottle she and Andrew had shared earlier in the evening, not to mention the worryingly brightly coloured shots she'd had at the previous bar, she was beginning to feel rather numb. But numb was good. Numb meant that she couldn't feel betrayed, couldn't feel used, and couldn't feel hopeless. Even if she knew perfectly well that being out alone, late at night, this drunk, was most definitely not a good idea.

"Nikki?"

She whipped down at the sound of her name, only to find Andrew standing behind her, a half-apologetic, half-smug and hungry look on his face. God, she hated him, Nikki thought in her drunken state. He'd followed her. She'd stormed out of the restaurant, made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him, and he'd bloody gone and followed her. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Andrew!" she slurred angrily, sliding off the bar stool and turning to face him. "Andrew, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Nikki, listen," her once-boyfriend protested. "Nikki, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Listen, why don't you come back to my place tonight, we can-"

"We can what?" Nikki said spitefully. "I know what you want, Andrew. And the answer's still no, just as it was earlier! No, I mean it! No!"

"Nikki, don't be like this!" Andrew shouted, clearly oblivious to the fact that several people were now turning to look at them. "Just come back with me tonight, please! That's all I'm asking!"

"No, I don't think it is! Listen Andrew, I don't want to see you again, OK? It's over! It's over, now leave me alone!"

Angrily, Nikki threw some money down onto the counter to cover the drinks and made to leave, storming out of the bar and slamming the door behind her. But when she turned to look over her shoulder as she crossed the road, heading towards the taxi pick-up point (knowing full well that she was far too drunk to drive) she saw Andrew following her, about to cross the road at the same point. 'He's just heading home, too,' she told herself. 'Maybe he needs to get a taxi too, it's fine.'

Yet something about it unnerved her; him following her like that. Intentionally or unintentionally, he was scaring her. And she wanted it to stop.

You've never experienced that panic on a date before, and rarely outside of that scenario, and it scared you. You've been followed a couple of times at work, but 'work' means that the police- and Harry, now you think about it- are never far away, and even though you're always nervous, you know at the same time that help will be coming as events unfold, even if it's only a tiny voice at the back of your mind. Maybe that was what spooked you earlier, because you knew then that the situation was very different. No one knew where you were, and still no one knows now. If you get yourself into any kind of trouble, they'll be no one around to save you. You'll have to deal with it alone. And that scared you, big time. It still scares you now.

Something within Nikki told her that it was wrong, Andrew following her like that. It made her feel scared, uncomfortable, like she was letting him win. She wasn't prepared to do that, and she certainly wasn't prepared to stand next to him in a taxi queue, trying to make polite conversation. No, she decided, she would walk through town a little, pick up a taxi on the way. It would be fine. Yes, it would all be fine.

Nikki made one last paranoid check over her shoulder as she made her way through another street, in the opposite direction of the taxi point. She had been walking for a good 5 minutes now; Andrew would have broken off in a different direction. But as she stole a glance over her shoulder, Nikki saw him there, walking perhaps 10 metres behind her, but it was definitely him. He was following her.

Hastily she broke into a run, as fast as was possible in her heels and considering the large amount of alcohol she had consumed in the last couple of hours. There was no way Andrew should still be behind her, not unless he was following her. But he was just trying to freak her out, get her back for breaking up with him; it wasn't anything more sinister. It couldn't be.

Nikki glanced over her shoulder again, half-terrified, to see Andrew still following her, having now started to jog. Still there, still a comfortable distance away from her, yet clearly following her. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

There was nothing for it. Nikki stopped briefly to kick off her shoes, before grabbing them quickly in one hand and beginning to run. She could still sense him behind her; hear his footsteps pounding on the pavement, taunting her.

She was running blind now, not really caring where she was headed, just as long as it was away from Andrew. Helplessly, Nikki turned a corner before diving into a small gap between 2 buildings, hiding behind a skip before crouching down, shaking as the footsteps got closer and closer. She couldn't quite believe she'd had to resort to this: cowering behind somebody's rubbish in a dark alleyway, out of fear of what would happen if her latest ex-boyfriend found her. How the hell had this happened? How had she been so horribly wrong about Andrew, judged his character so badly that she had failed to see all this coming? How had she managed to get herself into this situation, a situation which seemed so bizarre that no one could possibly make it up. Had anyone else told her about something like this, she would have laughed. Except that it wasn't particularly funny when it was you who was being followed.

Nikki waited until the footsteps had passed before making her move; jumping to her feet and dashing down the alleyway, reaching the end before turning left on a whim, slowing to a walk and wandering along the pathway, paying next to no attention to where she was going. She was almost certain that she had shaken Andrew off, so there was no further need to run barefoot. It was dark too, almost pitch black, but she didn't care, not in the slightest. She didn't care what happened now; nothing could be as horrible as being stalked, as feeling exposed and vulnerable. Nothing, not even being lost alone in the middle of the night. Or at least, that was what Nikki told herself.

You don't know what to do anymore. You don't know what to do. You're completely and utterly lost, and still he hasn't called. Now you're starting to despair; wondering what will happen if nobody comes to your rescue. Maybe you'll be out here all night, half-frozen to death by the time the morning comes, thoroughly drowned in your sorrows and depressed to the core. Maybe no one will even notice you're gone, but that's OK. You don't care anymore. You really don't.