26.01.2023 Views

_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

“You didn’t see her, but you had something useful to tell him?”

I hesitate for a moment. I’m not sure how much I should tell him,

whether I should keep this just for Scott. “It’s about Megan,” I say. “She

was having an affair.”

“Wait—did you know her?”

“Just a little,” I say.

“How?”

“From her gallery.”

“Oh,” he says. “So who’s the guy?”

“Her therapist,” I tell him. “Kamal Abdic. I saw them together.”

“Really? The guy they arrested? I thought they’d let him go.”

“They have. And it’s my fault, because I’m an unreliable witness.”

Tom laughs. It’s soft, friendly, he isn’t mocking me. “Rachel, come

on. You did the right thing, coming forward. I’m sure it’s not just about

you.” In the background, I can hear the prattle of the child, and Tom says

something away from the phone, something I can’t hear. “I should go,”

he says. I can imagine him putting down the phone, picking up his little

girl, giving her a kiss, embracing his wife. The dagger in my heart twists,

round and round and round.

MONDAY, JULY 29, 2013

MORNING

It’s 8:07 and I’m on the train. Back to the imaginary office. Cathy was

with Damien all weekend, and when I saw her last night, I didn’t give

her a chance to berate me. I started apologizing for my behaviour

straightaway, said I’d been feeling really down, but that I was pulling

myself together, turning over a new leaf. She accepted, or pretended to

accept, my apologies. She gave me a hug. Niceness writ large.

Megan has dropped out of the news almost completely. There was a

comment piece in the Sunday Times about police incompetence that

referred briefly to the case, an unnamed source at the Crown Prosecution

Service citing it as “one of a number of cases in which the police have

made a hasty arrest on the basis of flimsy or flawed evidence.”

We’re coming to the signal. I feel the familiar rattle and jolt, the train

slows and I look up, because I have to, because I cannot bear not to, but

there is never anything to see any longer. The doors are closed and the

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!