I approach the desk, studying the face of the woman behind the counter. It’s a small town and I half expect her to recognise me even though I don’t recognise her. That is, until she opens her mouth to speak.

‘Hello, Miss, how can I help you?’ she says. Her accent is French or Belgian, or something like that. I feel instant relief that she isn’t local.

‘I called ahead to say I would be arriving tonight. I’m a little later than I expected.’

‘Mrs Felicity Musgrave?’

‘Yes.’

She has the paperwork ready. I sign the card and she shares the Wi-Fi password. She explains that I am too late to order breakfast to my room in the morning, but I can eat in the dining room with the other guests, or I can order room service from a limited menu at any point during my stay. I am so tired I can barely decipher what she is saying and the speed at which she speaks doesn’t make things any easier. But I smile and nod at the correct intervals and she finally hands me the key. She gestures to a porter to come and take my bag. I follow him dutifully, embarrassed now that I booked this place, embarrassed that I am making someone carry my bag. I was proving a point to myself and no one else, that I’m a better person now than I was when I left. All the money in the world can’t wash away the things I did though.

My room overlooks the beach. I can see what they mean when they say it’s darkest just before dawn. The sea is a sheet of black. The room itself was probably considered very opulent a few years ago, but now it gives off the impression that lots of hotel rooms do; that lots of people have slept there. I know that within a few hours, though, this will be the only place in the whole town where I feel even remotely comfortable.

I pull out my phone to text Chris. It’s unusual for me to open my phone and not find a supportive message from him there, although in recent months I have noticed a change in the way he is with me. He’s been less tolerant of my idiosyncrasies lately and it’s as if I want to push him even further, to see how far I can before he stops loving me. I miss him. I can tell he is unhappy because I have no notifications at all. I just message the word ‘here’ along with a kiss and turn my phone off. For now I want to sleep.