Not that she’d put anything about oil and water in the note, there had been no point using metaphors when she had to be straight with Rick.

I’m very sorry, she had written, but I seem to do nothing but annoy you these days and so I’m going to Mum’s. I know you won’t like it, but I think it’s for the best.

I know also that you care about me and that you were upset at losing your temper the way you did last night, and that it was only because you’d been worried about me being out so late, but you scared me. You probably didn’t mean to, but you need to know that you did, and that can’t be good for our baby. It would be better for us both if you didn’t contact me for a few days. I need time to think, and I believe you do as well.

Take care and please don’t be too cross with me.

Willow

She knew the manner in which she’d signed the note would hurt Rick. He would have wanted to read the words, With all my love, Willow. Or something similar. But she didn’t love him. Oh, she’d tried. She’d tried so very hard to give him what he wanted from her. For a while she had almost believed that she did love him, but that was because she’d needed to believe everything would work out. Love conquered all, that was the theory, wasn’t it?

It was possible that she was incapable of truly loving anyone, that she was damaged goods destined always to chase the dream of somebody to love and to be loved in return, but failing miserably. Was it her unlovability that provoked Rick and brought out the worst in him?

A vigorous movement inside her made her aware of the life she and Rick had created together. The baby had been restless for most of last night, twisting and turning, shoving and poking, and had kept Willow awake while she lay rigidly on her side with her back to Rick. Not that she had expected to sleep. Reluctant to get in bed with him – she had only done so because she’d been afraid what he might say or do if she didn’t – she had been too on edge to sleep, too shocked at what he had done to her and what the future now held.

Her greatest fear, greater than how cross Rick was going to be with her when he discovered she’d gone, was whether she would be capable of loving their child in the way any child deserved to be loved. She hoped with all her heart that she could.

At Havant station, and aware that she should have found a payphone to call home to let Mum know she was on her way, Willow found a taxi to take her to Tilsham.

‘You look like you’ve been in the wars,’ the man said.

Puzzled, Willow stared at him as he put her case in the boot of his car. Then she remembered that her sunglasses only partially covered her painfully bruised eye and cheek, and the scarf she’d put on to hide her swollen mouth had slid down and her split lip was fully exposed. ‘My own stupid fault,’ she said with a trilling little laugh. ‘I clumsily missed my footing while out shopping yesterday. I’m one of those hopeless people who can trip over her own shadow.’