_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

Riley and Gaskill exchanged a look, I wasn’t sure if it was irritation or
amusement. I could taste the sweat on my upper lip. I took a sip of water;
it tasted stale. Gaskill shuffled the papers in front of him and then pushed
them aside, as though he was done with them, or as though whatever was
in them didn’t interest him all that much.
“Ms. Watson, your . . . er . . . your ex-husband’s current wife, Mrs.
Anna Watson, has raised concerns about you. She told us that you have
been bothering her, bothering her husband, that you have gone to the
house uninvited, that on one occasion . . .” Gaskill glanced back at his
notes, but Riley interrupted.
“On one occasion you broke into Mr. and Mrs. Watson’s home and
took their child, their newborn baby.”
A black hole opened up in the centre of the room and swallowed me.
“That is not true!” I said. “I didn’t take . . . It didn’t happen like that,
that’s wrong. I didn’t . . . I didn’t take her.”
I got very upset then, I started to shake and cry, I said I wanted to
leave. Riley pushed her chair back and got to her feet, shrugged at
Gaskill and left the room. Gaskill handed me a Kleenex.
“You can leave any time you like, Ms. Watson. You came here to talk
to us.” He smiled at me then, an apologetic sort of smile. I liked him in
that moment, I wanted to take his hand and squeeze it, but I didn’t,
because that would have been weird. “I think you have more to tell me,”
he said, and I liked him even more for saying “tell me” rather than “tell
us.”
“Perhaps,” he said, getting to his feet and ushering me towards the
door, “you would like to take a break, stretch your legs, get yourself
something to eat. Then when you’re ready, come back, and you can tell
me everything.”
I was planning to just forget the whole thing and go home. I was
walking back towards the train station, ready to turn my back on the
whole thing. Then I thought about the train journey, about going
backwards and forwards on that line, past the house—Megan and Scott’s
house—every day. What if they never found her? I was going to wonder
forever—and I understand that this is not very likely, but even so—
whether my saying something might have helped her. What if Scott was
accused of harming her just because they never knew about B? What if
she was at B’s house right now, tied up in the basement, hurt and
bleeding, or buried in the garden?
I did as Gaskill said, I bought a ham and cheese sandwich and a bottle
of water from a corner shop and took it to Witney’s only park, a rather