_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

EVENING
Scott’s just called to say he has to work late, which is not the news I
wanted to hear. I’m feeling edgy, have been all day. Can’t keep still. I
need him to come home and calm me down, and now it’s going to be
hours before he gets here and my brain is going to keep racing round and
round and round and I know I’ve got a sleepless night coming.
I can’t just sit here, watching the trains, I’m too jittery, my heartbeat
feels like a flutter in my chest, like a bird trying to get out of a cage. I
slip my flip-flops on and go downstairs, out of the front door and on to
Blenheim Road. It’s around seven thirty—a few stragglers on their way
home from work. There’s no one else around, though you can hear the
cries of kids playing in their back gardens, taking advantage of the last of
the summer sunshine before they get called in for dinner.
I walk down the road, towards the station. I stop for a moment outside
number twenty-three and think about ringing the doorbell. What would I
say? Ran out of sugar? Just fancied a chat? Their blinds are half open,
but I can’t see anyone inside.
I carry on towards the corner and, without really thinking about it, I
continue down into the underpass. I’m about halfway through when the
train runs overhead, and it’s glorious: it’s like an earthquake, you can feel
it right in the centre of your body, stirring up the blood. I look down and
notice that there’s something on the floor, a hair band, purple, stretched,
well used. Dropped by a runner, probably, but something about it gives
me the creeps and I want to get out of there quickly, back into the
sunshine.
On the way back down the road, he passes me in his car, our eyes
meet for just a second and he smiles at me.