‘But you have to eat.’
‘They gave me something to eat at the café,’ lied Sarah.
‘Ah, OK. Well, we’ll see you in the morning.’
‘I’m happy to drive you again,’ said Bob.
Sarah would have liked to refuse, but knowing she didn’t have enough in her account for a taxi, she accepted his offer, made her excuses and headed to her room. With the door shut, Sarah kicked off her shoes and undid the zip on her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She moved across to the mirror to inspect her wounds.
A crimson band sat against her stomach. In some places, the too-tight skirt had drawn blood. She reached into her wash bag and found a tub of skin cream. Each dab at her skin caused her to wince. With a comfortable pair of jogging bottoms on, Sarah sat on the bed to inspect her feet. Huge blisters had formed on her heels, the nail on one big toe had turned black, and red marks lined her toes where her shoes had chafed.
Whilst the thought of a bath was tempting, the sting of water on her wounds was not, so Sarah climbed into bed, turning on the TV and snuggling down. She reached inside her bag and pulled out her phone. There had been nothing from Cynthia since Sarah’s announcement she was leaving, and the silence troubled her more than any typed recriminations.
Sarah’s phone pinged with ten notifications. Steeling herself for what was to come, she opened the messages.
Having a great time in sunny Spain.
I was a little cross you’ve abandoned ship, but Dad has come out of hiding and I’ve passed the list onto him.
Dad said he’ll call you soon.
Where are you?
Are you with a man?
Are you ignoring me?
Fine. Have it your way.
The remaining messages were photos of Cynthia lying on a lounger by a pool, wearing nothing other than a bikini and a sarong. Sarah deleted the photos from her phone and put it on the bedside table to charge.
Halfway through a boring murder mystery show, a door downstairs slammed and not long after the smell of Indian food wafted its way up the stairs. Sarah’s stomach growled, and she wished she hadn’t lied about eating at the café. Now she’d done that, she couldn’t even go out and buy a sandwich.
Half an hour later, a knock came on her bedroom door.
‘Come in,’ she said, resenting the intrusion when she’d made it clear she wanted to be alone.
‘Hi,’ said Kate, carrying a plate in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. ‘I know you said you’d already eaten, but we ordered way too much food for the two of us. You’d be doing us a favour if you helped us out. Also, I thought some prosecco was in order to celebrate your good news. And don’t worry, I know you’re exhausted. I’ll just leave this here for you.’
Kate placed the plate and glass on the bedside table.
‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ Kate made to leave, but hovered in the doorway. ‘Look, this is delicate, but I wanted to say sorry.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Yes, I should have checked you were OK sleeping in this room after what happened last time you were here. I could make the bed up in the sitting room if you’d prefer?’
For a moment Sarah was confused, then she realised what Kate was referring to. ‘Oh, you mean being dumped by Mark?’
Kate grimaced. ‘Yes, that.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Water under the bridge. Don’t worry.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘Quite sure. Me and Mark are on friendly terms.’
