_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

“You still use your husband’s name. Why is that? If a man left me for
another woman, I think I’d want to get rid of that name. I certainly
wouldn’t want to share my name with my replacement . . .”
“Well, maybe I’m not that petty.” I am that petty. I hate that she’s
Anna Watson.
“Right. And the ring—the one on a chain around your neck. Is that
your wedding band?”
“No,” I lied. “It’s a . . . it was my grandmother’s.”
“Is that right? OK. Well, I have to say that to me, your behaviour
suggests that—as Mrs. Watson has implied—you are unwilling to move
on, that you refuse to accept that your ex has a new family.”
“I don’t see—”
“What this has to do with Megan Hipwell?” Riley finished my
sentence. “Well. The night Megan went missing, we have reports that
you—an unstable woman who had been drinking heavily—were seen on
the street where she lives. Bearing in mind that there are some physical
similarities between Megan and Mrs. Watson—”
“They don’t look anything like each other!” I was outraged at the
suggestion. Jess is nothing like Anna. Megan is nothing like Anna.
“They’re both blond, slim, petite, pale-skinned . . .”
“So I attacked Megan Hipwell thinking she was Anna? That’s the
most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. But that lump on my head was
throbbing again, and everything from Saturday night was still deepest
black.
“Did you know that Anna Watson knows Megan Hipwell?” Gaskill
asked me, and I felt my jaw drop.
“I . . . what? No. No, they don’t know each other.”
Riley smiled for a moment, then straightened her face. “Yes they do.
Megan did some childminding for the Watsons . . .” She glanced down at
her notes. “Back in August and September last year.”
I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine it: Megan in my home, with
her, with her baby.
“The cut on your lip, is that from when you got knocked down the
other day?” Gaskill asked me.
“Yes. I bit it when I fell, I think.”
“Where was it, this accident?”
“It was in London, Theobalds Road. Near Holborn.”
“And what were you doing there?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Why were you in central London?”