_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

RACHEL
• • •
SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2013
MORNING
I wake with my head full of him. It doesn’t seem real, none of it does.
My skin prickles. I would dearly love to have a drink, but I can’t. I need
to keep a clear head. For Megan. For Scott.
I made an effort yesterday. I washed my hair and put some makeup
on. I wore the only jeans I still fit into, with a cotton print blouse and
sandals with a low heel. I looked OK. I kept telling myself that it was
ridiculous to care about my appearance, because the last thing Scott was
going to be thinking about was what I looked like, but I couldn’t help
myself. It was the first time I was ever going to be around him, it
mattered to me. Much more than it should.
I took the train, leaving Ashbury around six thirty, and I was in
Witney just after seven. I took that walk along Roseberry Avenue, past
the underpass. I didn’t look this time, couldn’t bear to. I hurried past
number twenty-three, Tom and Anna’s place, chin to chest and
sunglasses on, praying they wouldn’t see me. It was quiet, no one
around, a couple of cars driving carefully down the centre of the road
between ranks of parked vehicles. It’s a sleepy little street, tidy and
affluent, with lots of young families; they’re all having their dinner
around seven o’clock, or sitting on the sofa, mum and dad with the little
ones squeezed between them, watching The X Factor.
From number twenty-three to number fifteen can’t be more than fifty
or sixty paces, but that journey stretched out, it seemed to take an age;
my legs were leaden, my footing unsteady, as though I were drunk, as
though I might just slip off the pavement.
Scott opened the door almost before I’d finished knocking, my
trembling hand still raised as he appeared in the doorway, looming ahead
of me, filling the space.