_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

SUNDAY, AUGUST 18, 2013
EARLY MORNING
I wake with a fright; it’s still dark. I think I can hear Evie crying, but
when I go through to check on her, she’s sleeping deeply, her blanket
clutched tightly between closed fists. I go back to bed, but I can’t fall
asleep again. All I can think about is the phone in the bedside drawer. I
glance over at Tom, lying with his left arm flung out, his head thrown
back. I can tell from the cadence of his breathing that he’s far from
consciousness. I slip out of bed, open the drawer and take out the phone.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I turn the phone over and over in my hand,
preparing myself. I want to know, but I don’t. I want to be sure, but I
want so desperately to be wrong. I turn it on. I press one and hold it, I
hear the voice mail welcome. I hear that I have no new messages and no
saved messages. Would I like to change my greeting? I end the call, but
am suddenly gripped by the completely irrational fear that the phone
could ring, that Tom would hear it from upstairs, so I slide the French
doors open and step outside.
The grass is damp beneath my feet, the air cool, heavy with the scent
of rain and roses. I can hear a train in the distance, a slow growl, it’s a
long way off. I walk almost as far as the fence before I dial the voice
mail again: would I like to change my greeting? Yes, I would. There’s a
beep and a pause and then I hear her voice. Her voice, not his. Hi, it’s
me, leave a message.
My heart has stopped beating.
It’s not his phone, it’s hers.
I play it again.
Hi, it’s me, leave a message.
It’s her voice.
I can’t move, can’t breathe. I play it again, and again. My throat is
closed, I feel as though I’m going to faint, and then the light comes on
upstairs.