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Back Reluctantly Home Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

But then, out of nowhere, came the memory of her sliding to the floor in the Grand Hall of the Supreme Court. How could she contemplate returning to London when she had no idea when she might have a panic attack like that one? Just thinking about it made her heart beat harder. She gripped the clothes rail tightly and breathed slowly in and out, as she had been taught. It took a good ten minutes before she felt in control again, and every part of her was exhausted by the strain of trying to hold herself together. Despair crept into her heart yet again. She might be improving, but clearly she was a long way off being better.

31

31

Every morning, Evelyn had a bowl of cornflakes for her breakfast. She didn’t even like cornflakes that much, but when she had first set up her online food shop, cornflakes had been the only cereal she could think of. And so they had ended up in her basket, and there they had stayed. She knew it couldn’t be that hard to switch the order to something else, but somehow she never seemed to have the energy to think about it. It was much easier to keep reordering the same things week after week: bread, milk, Granny Smith apples, tinned pilchards, Philadelphia cream cheese, Jacob’s cream crackers and cornflakes. It made for a very dull diet, but it hadn’t killed her yet. Each week she promised herself she would shake things up a little, and yet the same food kept arriving.

She had just finished that morning’s bowl when she heard a knock at the front door. Evelyn started. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Nicholas generally called on a Sunday, and the food delivery had arrived yesterday. No one else ever knocked.

It couldn’t be important, she thought as she dropped her bowl into the sink, already filled with crockery from previous meals that she hadn’t got round to washing up. She would ignore the knocking. The kitchen was at the back of the house so no one could see she was there. She picked up the plastic carton of milk and went to replace it in the fridge.

The knocking came again and this time there was another sound as well. Evelyn stood stock still and strained to listen. It was a woman’s voice.

‘Miss Mountcastle?’ it said. ‘Are you there? I really need to talk to you.’

Evelyn shuffled to the door and peered into the hallway just as the flap of the letterbox slammed shut. The cheek of it. Whoever it was had shouted through her door without so much as a by your leave, Evelyn thought indignantly, and they had invaded her privacy to boot. There were rules about that kind of thing, she knew.