_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

I shrugged. “I already told you,” I said coldly. “My flatmate doesn’t
know that I’ve lost my job. So I go into London, as usual, and I go to
libraries, to job hunt, to work on my CV.”
Riley shook her head, in disbelief perhaps, or wonder. How does
anyone get to that point?
I pushed my chair back, readying myself to leave. I’d had enough of
being talked down to, being made to look like a fool, like a madwoman.
Time to play the trump card. “I don’t really know why we’re talking
about this,” I said. “I would have thought that you would have better
things to do, like investigating Megan Hipwell’s disappearance, for
example. I take it you’ve spoken to her lover?” Neither of them said
anything, they just stared at me. They weren’t expecting that. They
didn’t know about him. “Perhaps you didn’t know. Megan Hipwell was
having an affair,” I said, and I started to walk to the door. Gaskill stopped
me; he moved quietly and surprisingly quickly, and before I could put
my hand on the door handle he was standing in front of me.
“I thought you didn’t know Megan Hipwell,” he said.
“I don’t,” I said, trying to get past him.
“Sit down,” he said, blocking my path.
I told them then about what I’d seen from the train, about how I often
saw Megan sitting out on her terrace, sunbathing in the evenings or
having coffee in the mornings. I told them about how last week I saw her
with someone who clearly wasn’t her husband, how I’d seen them
kissing on the lawn.
“When was this?” Gaskill snapped. He seemed annoyed with me,
perhaps because I should have told them this straightaway, instead of
wasting all day talking about myself.
“Friday. It was Friday morning.”
“So the day before she went missing, you saw her with another man?”
Riley asked me with a sigh of exasperation. She closed the file in front of
her. Gaskill leaned back in his seat, studying my face. She clearly
thought I was making it up; he wasn’t so sure.
“Can you describe him?” Gaskill asked.
“Tall, dark—”
“Handsome?” Riley interrupted.
I puffed my cheeks out. “Taller than Scott Hipwell. I know, because
I’ve seen them together—Jess and—sorry, Megan and Scott Hipwell—
and this man was different. Slighter, thinner, darker-skinned. Possibly an
Asian man,” I said.