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火车上的女孩 The Girl on the Train

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sunday, august 18, 2013

early morning

i hurl the phone over the fence, as far as i can; itlands somewhere on the edge of the scree at the topof the embankment. i think i can hear it rollingdown towards the track. i think i can still hear hervoice. hi. it’s me. leave a message. i think i mightbe hearing her voice for a long time to come.

he’s at the bottom of the stairs by the time i getback to the house. he’s watching me, blinking,bleary-eyed, struggling out of sleep.

“what’s going on?”

“nothing,” i say, but i can hear the tremor in myvoice.

“what were you doing outside?”

“i thought i heard someone,” i tell him. “somethingwoke me. i couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“the phone rang,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

i clasp my hands together to stop them shaking.

“what? what phone?”

“the phone.” he’s looking at me as though i’minsane. “the phone rang. someone called and hungup.”

“oh. i don’t know. i don’t know who that was.”

he laughs. “of course you don’t. are you all right?”

he comes across to me and puts his arms aroundmy waist. “you’re being weird.” he holds me for abit, his head bowed against my chest. “you should’vewoken me if you heard something,” he says. “youshouldn’t be going out there on your own. that’s myjob.”

“i’m fine,” i say, but i have to clench my jaw tostop my teeth from chattering. he kisses my lips,pushes his tongue into my mouth.

“let’s go back to bed,” he says.

“i think i’m going to have a coffee,” i say, trying topull away from him.

he’s not letting me go. his arms are tight aroundme, his hand gripping the back of my neck.

“come on,” he says. “come with me. i’m not takingno for an answer.”

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