‘Well, usually when someone wants the big radical change to their hair, it’s because of a relationship break-up or something along those lines.’

Paula shrugged. ‘Something like that.’

‘Look, if it’s any consolation,’ he said, ‘I think the short cut will suit you.’

Paula nodded her thanks to him in the mirror. The apprentice passed her a few tissues with a shy smile.

The crying made Paula feel a little better. So did seeing the blonde hair being swept up from the floor and deposited into the bin.

Her head cleared enough that she could grab hold of one anchoring thought: as a doctor, she had useful skills. It must be possible to work usefully. It would need to be somewhere no one knew her, where she could keep her head down, somewhere she would not be constantly reminded of unbearable things.

After Paula walked out of the salon with what looked like a wavy pale yellow swimming cap on her head, she sat in the food court of a nearby shopping centre and started scrolling through websites for GP locum jobs.

In that same shopping centre, she bought underwear, shoes, a pair of jeans, a few shirts, two cheap but serviceable dresses, plus a suitcase to put it all in. She couldn’t face going back to the Earlwood house—even for the few minutes it would take to fetch some of her clothes. Anyway, this seemed right. She could never be the person she used to be, so wearing new, unfamiliar garments felt appropriate.

Because Paula was prepared to go anywhere, on short notice, it only took a couple of days to nab a GP locum position. She signed on for a two-week fill-in stint in a town on the south coast. After that, there would be a locum job for a week out west, followed by two weeks on the far north coast.

Her theory was that it would be possible to keep working as a doctor as long as she moved around in temporary roles. That way she wouldn’t become invested in patients’ lives and wouldn’t feel too responsible for what happened to them. She had no clue how long she could do this. Her capacity to think about the future had atrophied, her imaginative range only extending a day or two ahead.

The first gig down south required Paula to work Tuesday to Saturday in the general practice surgery and to be on call for the tiny local hospital on Sundays.

The town had absurdly beautiful beaches and a golf course draped between two dramatic headlands, but Paula’s accommodation was on the low-lying, river side, facing the massive dark escarpment at the back of the town.