_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

MEGAN
• • •
THURSDAY, JANUARY 10, 2013
MORNING
Sometimes, I don’t want to go anywhere, I think I’ll be happy if I never
have to set foot outside the house again. I don’t even miss working. I just
want to remain safe and warm in my haven with Scott, undisturbed.
It helps that it’s dark and cold and the weather is filthy. It helps that it
hasn’t stopped raining for weeks—freezing, driving, bitter rain
accompanied by gales howling through the trees, so loud they drown out
the sound of the train. I can’t hear it on the tracks, enticing me, tempting
me to journey elsewhere.
Today, I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to run away, I don’t
even want to go down the road. I want to stay here, holed up with my
husband, watching TV and eating ice cream, after calling him to come
home from work early so we can have sex in the middle of the afternoon.
I will have to go out later, of course, because it’s my day for Kamal.
I’ve been talking to him lately about Scott, about all the things I’ve done
wrong, my failure as a wife. Kamal says I have to find a way of making
myself happy, I have to stop looking for happiness elsewhere. It’s true, I
do, I know I do, and then I’m in the moment and I just think, fuck it,
life’s too short.
I think about that time when we went on a family holiday to Santa
Margherita in the Easter school holidays. I’d just turned fifteen and I met
this guy on the beach, much older than I was—thirties, probably,
possibly even early forties—and he invited me to go sailing the next day.
Ben was with me and he was invited, too, but—ever the protective big
brother—he said we shouldn’t go because he didn’t trust the guy, he
thought he was a sleazy creep. Which, of course, he was. But I was
furious, because when were we ever going to get the chance to sail
around the Ligurian Sea on some bloke’s private yacht? Ben told me