Across the way, Dani saw Easton. He waved to her to get her attention and gave her a half smile. Dani looked at Jason who just shrugged. Easton came over.

‘Dani…’

‘Aaron. Long time no see.’

‘Yeah,’ he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Dani, I’m sorry. About everything. I was just—’

‘You were just doing what McNair told you to. I get it.’

‘No hard feelings?’

‘Why would there be?’

Easton gave her another sheepish look. He glanced at Jason who just nodded.

‘See you around?’ Easton said to Dani.

‘You never know.’

He turned and headed back towards the security gates.

‘Come on,’ Jason said. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Chapter Sixty-Four

This is the first entry in my new diary that Jason has bought me. I came to depend on the last one so much during my recovery. I realise now that the release of writing about my life helps me to escape the many torments I’ve had to endure. Writing in this new diary will help me as my recovery continues.

As I’m writing this, I stare out of the window across the canals and the numerous other blocks of new-build apartments. It’s the last time I’ll do so. At one time I felt proud and happy living in this apartment, but there are too many scars, too many bad memories now to ever go back. I need to go forwards.

The intercom rings and I peel myself away. I walk into the hall and look at the screen. Jason.

I buzz him in, then stare at the screen as I always do now. After a few seconds it goes blank. No one has followed him in.

I stand by the door, waiting for him, an uncomfortable feeling enveloping me. I hear the lift clunking away. I hear the doors opening. When I hear the footsteps in the corridor I grab the wrench from the sideboard. I hold it tightly in both hands and wait for the soft rap on the door.

Will I ever shake off this paranoia?

‘Jason?’ I say.

‘Yeah. It’s me.’

I look into the peephole. He’s standing back, in clear view. He knows all about my new habits. He looks left and right then smiles at me. I take one hand from the wrench and unlock, then open, the door.

‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘Ready for the last supper?’

He holds up the bag containing our dinner. I glance past him, along the corridor, one last check to make sure he’s definitely alone. I nod and step back to let him in. When he’s inside with the door shut I finally put the wrench down on the floor. That’s where it’ll stay. I’m not taking that with me.