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Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. VIOLET
  3. VIOLET
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Contents
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. Epilogue
  48. Acknowledgements
  49. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  50. Copyright

I almost got myself lost on the way back to my hotel to grab my stuff. Nearly freaked out on the confusing Moscow Metro, with its circular map crossed with far too many snaking lines, the signs all in Cyrillic and not having a clue which direction I was going in; but a kindly couple had taken pity on me and I’d had a flash of a memory to Steve and Marion Street – Carrie’s friends from the train; we were supposed to meet them in Red Square, and I wondered if they turned up – if they expected us to be there too.

The tears are flowing now, as I strap on my seatbelt, preparing for take-off. I’m trying not to think about everything that’s happened, but it’s impossible. I close my eyes, wishing I could transport myself back to the start, before all of this began. The tannoy announcement starts, and I open my eyes.

I don’t even know what the start is.

The plane picks up speed on the runway, and I grip onto the armrests, barely aware that I am doing it.

The smartly dressed woman next to me leans over, bringing a cloud of cloying perfume and a soft Welsh accent. ‘I used to be such an awful flyer,’ she says, rolling her eyes and handing me a wrapped caramel sweet. ‘But since I started with this meditation app, it’s really helped.’ She shows me her phone, the app open – a lilac pulsing light taking up the screen. She hands me an earbud, and it feels churlish to refuse. I push it into my ear and the soothing sounds of waterfalls come through the tiny speaker. She pats my hand, and I give her a small smile.

Let her think I’m a bad flyer. If only that was the truth. If only that was the only thing that was wrong with me.

Don’t be nice to me, I think. Nothing good will ever come of it.

Berlin

34

The first thing I realise when I land at Berlin Schönefeld Airport is that I have no euros to get myself into the city. I can probably jump on the S-Bahn without paying, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I get there. I have no contacts here, nowhere to stay.

For the first time in a very long time, I feel a little afraid.

What happened in Irkutsk, and then in Moscow … I hadn’t expected things to take such a dark turn. I’m grateful to Ivan for sorting everything for me and leaving me enough cash to buy a plane ticket out of there, but even he had looked at me with disgust in the end.

He doesn’t understand. No one does.