7

Elise

After a sleepless night, I’m exhausted when my alarm goes off at five thirty. Andrew doesn’t stir. As I shower and dress, I wonder how it feels to have no conscience. Then I’m thinking about Hollie; wondering if she’s come back. Pulling on a cardigan over my uniform, I tiptoe downstairs, glancing toward Niamh’s room, still in darkness.

In the kitchen I make a mug of tea and a bowl of muesli. The certainty that it’s too early to be interrupted by Andrew brings a tenuous layer of peace to the room. Unable to stop my mind from wandering, I imagine how different this house would be, how free my life would feel, without him.

Having finished my muesli, I check my schedule on my phone. Today my flight is to Barcelona. At this time of year, I’m expecting an easy day with few passengers. Tomorrow, I go to Malaga; after that, Athens. Beautiful places where the sun shines, where life could be so different. A yearning fills me to be free of this life, of Andrew, followed by a grim determination. I need to get through these intolerable years, let Niamh grow up. But one day, I tell myself, I will be.

It’s still pitch-dark as I go outside and get in my car. Starting the engine, I let it idle while the layer of ice on the windscreen clears, then slowly set off down the drive. When I turn onto the lane, frost sparkles in my headlights, the landscape surreal, a layer of freezing fog coating every branch on each tree either side of the road. As I drive, I can’t help looking out for Hollie, even though I know I’m unlikely to see her. Then Andrew comes to my mind, the photo of the naked girl on his phone. He’s omnipresent, tainting everything I do.

Reaching the main road, I glance at the road sign. The airport is clearly marked, ten miles away, to the left. I turn on my indicator, then pulling out, I turn right.