Keeping crouched low, she edged her way along the bays on the outer perimeter of the car park until she reached the little dark-blue Nissan Micra, which had been left for her earlier this afternoon in the agreed spot. Still crouched, she pulled the spare key out of her handbag, unlocked the driver’s door and slipped in.

Briefly checking in the mirror that the hijab and glasses were masking enough of her face, she opened the glovebox and pulled out her secret phone. She sent a brief text.

Plan A is a go! See you sooner than soon XXX

She started the car, drove to the exit and then out onto the road. Yessssss! she thought, exhilaration surging through her. So far so good. The plan, starting with the row she’d engineered on Thursday night, so their neighbours would hear, was working a treat! She looked at the car clock and then at her watch: 3.23 p.m.

Amid the ridiculous number of apps Niall had accumulated on his phone, he had never noticed the one she had added a week ago, ExifTool. It enabled you to change the date on any photograph you took. So simple. She’d used it to good effect in the BMW a short time ago, while Niall was driving, then deleted the app. He would never have noticed.

By her reckoning, and her knowledge of Niall, he would wait in the car for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, before his patience ran out and he went to look for her. He’d search Tesco, then maybe Marks & Spencer, all of which would take at least another quarter of an hour. Quite possibly longer, but she wasn’t going to allow herself the luxury of any margin. From her dress rehearsal, she could do everything she needed to do and be away within twenty minutes.

As she drove east, towards the city of Brighton and Hove, for the first time in a long while she was happy, her life filled with a new purpose.

She just had to get through the next hour.

And a very good plan would be to not get stopped for speeding. The speedometer was registering 45 mph and it was a 30 mph limit. Shit! Stupid!

She lifted her foot off the accelerator and braked sharply.

And as she did so, her heart lifted up.

The nightmare was nearly at an end.

Just a few tiny obstacles to navigate, and then . . .

She allowed herself a private smile, invisible to the outside world inside her headscarf. Just as she was.

And would remain.

No more having to put up with him. No more being with someone whose eye was elsewhere. No more having to put up with his infidelities – she knew about all of them because he was so rubbish at IT.

No more living in terror about his plan to kill her.

77

Sunday 1 September

Eden passed their house and drove a couple of hundred yards up the road before pulling in and parking. This was the dangerous part. None of their immediate neighbours had any outward-facing CCTV but, even so, it was a concern. She just had to hope that no one was bothering to look out of their window at this hour on a Sunday. And if they did, they would see a woman in a hijab strolling along. Not an uncommon sight.