_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

We are happy. We had lunch and lay out on the lawn, and then when it
got too hot we came inside and ate ice cream while Tom watched the
Grand Prix. Evie and I made play dough, and she ate quite a bit of that,
too. I think about what’s going on down the road and I think about how
lucky I am, how I got everything that I wanted. When I look at Tom, I
thank God that he found me, too, that I was there to rescue him from that
woman. She’d have driven him mad in the end, I really think that—she’d
have ground him down, she’d have made him into something he’s not.
Tom’s taken Evie upstairs to give her a bath. I can hear her squealing
with delight from here and I’m smiling again—the smile has barely
fallen from my lips all day. I do the washing up, tidy up the living room,
think about dinner. Something light. It’s funny, because a few years ago I
would have hated the idea of staying in and cooking on my birthday, but
now it’s perfect, it’s the way it should be. Just the three of us.
I pick up Evie’s toys, scattered around the living room floor, and
return them to their trunk. I’m looking forward to putting her down early
tonight, to slipping into that teddy Tom bought me. It won’t be dark for
hours yet, but I light the candles on the mantelpiece and open the second
bottle of Merlot to let it breathe. I’m just leaning over the sofa to pull the
curtains shut when I see a woman, her head bent to her chest, scuttling
along the pavement on the opposite side of the street. She doesn’t look
up, but it’s her, I’m sure of it. I lean farther forward, my heart
hammering in my chest, trying to get a better look, but the angle’s wrong
and I can’t see her now.
I turn, ready to bolt out of the front door to chase her down the street,
but Tom’s standing there in the doorway, Evie wrapped in a towel in his
arms.
“Are you OK?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets so that he can’t
see them shaking. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”