_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

“I left you a note a couple of days ago. I thought we should talk—”
“I didn’t get a note.” Another, heavier sigh. “Fuck’s sake. That’s why
she’s pissed off with me.” Anna must have taken it, she didn’t give it to
him. “What do you need?”
I want to hang up, dial again, start over. Tell him how good it was to
see him on Monday, when we went to the woods.
“I just wanted to ask you something.”
“What?” he snaps. He sounds really annoyed.
“Is everything OK?”
“What do you want, Rachel?” It’s gone, all the tenderness that was
there a week ago. I curse myself for leaving that note, I’ve obviously got
him into trouble at home.
“I wanted to ask you about that night—the night Megan Hipwell went
missing.”
“Oh, Jesus. We’ve talked about this—you can’t have forgotten
already.”
“I just—”
“You were drunk,” he says, his voice loud, harsh. “I told you to go
home. You wouldn’t listen. You wandered off. I drove around looking for
you, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Where was Anna?”
“She was at home.”
“With the baby?”
“With Evie, yes.”
“She wasn’t in the car with you?”
“No.”
“But—”
“Oh for God’s sake. She was supposed to be going out, I was going to
babysit. Then you came along, so she came and cancelled her plans. And
I wasted yet more hours of my life running around after you.”
I wish I hadn’t called. To have my hopes raised and dashed again, it’s
like cold steel twisting in my gut.
“OK,” I say. “It’s just, I remember it differently . . . Tom, when you
saw me, was I hurt? Was I . . . Did I have a cut on my head?”
Another heavy sigh. “I’m surprised you remember anything at all,
Rachel. You were blind drunk. Filthy, stinking drunk. Staggering all over
the place.” My throat starts to close up, hearing him say these words.
I’ve heard him say these sorts of things before, in the bad old days, the
very worst days, when he was tired of me, sick of me, disgusted by me.
Wearily, he goes on. “You’d fallen over in the street, you were crying,