And so, while Dave went off to the airport on Sunday to welcome home the second-honeymooners, Bunny looked around the quiet house one last time, took a deep resigned breath and decided to make her move. She didn’t have much to pack – a sports bag or two of clothes, a few pieces of jewellery, the card from Chloe, her make-up and toiletries. Her cardboard doppelgänger could stay, she decided scornfully, folding the huge, sad figure in half and treading it down, before stuffing it into the recycling box.

Dave, you’re the loveliest man in the world and the best thing that ever happened to me, she wrote on a piece of paper, feeling tears starting to gather in her eyes at the thought of him coming back and finding her gone:

But the truth is, you’re too good for me – and if you knew what I’d done, you’d probably think the same, too. Someone better is out there for you, someone worthy of you. I hope you’re happy together. But I’m going now and you won’t see me again. I’m sorry to let you down. Love—

She started to form the B for Bunny, but it felt like one last lie to him, when she was trying to be honest. She thought about writing ‘Me’ instead, but then realized that signing off ‘Love Me’ might sound like a command, rather than a closure. A big kiss – that would have to do. Her brain felt too strange and sad and churned up to deliberate over the details any longer.

Bags in the car, she posted her door keys through the letterbox, hearing them drop to the mat there, but then was paralysed with doubt and second thoughts. Was she making the right decision? Was it too late for her to change her mind? Oh, talk about pathetic, she couldn’t even do a bunk properly, she thought miserably to herself, turning on her heel and getting into her car just as the rain began. And where was she going to go? She didn’t even have a plan in place. This was the most shambolic running-away attempt ever. Hopeless! Just like she was hopeless at everything.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she started driving towards the ring-road, the wipers flicking back and forth as the rain hammered down, deciding on impulse that she’d head north and just see where she got to. Despite today’s thunderstorm, it was summer; there would be jobs going at hotels and bars in every big city or tourist place, she figured. Something cash-in-hand, where she wouldn’t need a reference, somewhere bustling and busy where she wouldn’t be asked too many difficult questions. And if the job turned out to be boring and repetitive, and if whichever cheap place she found to stay was grotty and grimy, then she’d just have to suck it up, because it would be her own stupid fault and all she deserved anyway.