I watched her walk away, up the hill towards the car park, before I moved. I finished my coffee, draining the cold milky dregs from the bottom of the cup.

Rape indeed. That was the final nail in his coffin. He would be my weapon of mass destruction.

67

Rebecca

Experience had taught me to live in the moment; savour the present. Losing Mitch for all those years had instilled in me a sense of realism. A happy-ever-after future was the dream of youth, of innocence. Perfect moments; that was all there was.

As we cruised along the motorway, roof down on the MG Midget, sun in our eyes and wind raging through our hair, I knew this was a special moment. Years of longing, sadness and misery were brushed aside on that May morning as we sped out of London.

The hotel in Maidenhead overlooked the river’s edge. Other than a nautically themed decking terrace which had been added at the rear of the dining area, nothing had changed since the first time we’d booked in as Mr and Mrs Knights. We had laughed and giggled when I put a curtain ring on the fourth finger of my left hand and teased the receptionist to book in the newlyweds.

The double room with the en suite had been where we’d consummated our relationship. Room number twenty-six. It was halfway along the second floor landing.

This time we walked more tentatively along the corridor. The wallpaper was tatty, peeling around the door frames. Ten years ago we hadn’t paid much attention to the floral pattern or the dull ambience. I remembered Mitch had fumbled nervously with the key, unable to open the door. ‘Hurry up,’ I’d squealed with excitement, desperate to get inside.

We stared at the numbers on the door. The two was slightly off kilter. The screw attaching it had come loose. Mitch was even more anxious this time round but the new-fangled key card fitted easily into its slot.

Side by side on the bed, we kissed, slowly and gently. There were tears in his eyes, a fine film of moisture which only self-pride prevented from becoming a deluge of emotion.

‘I love you, Carrington. Always have, always will.’ He used both hands to cup my face.

‘I love you too.’

The moment was too special to rush. I went and pulled back the curtains, flicking away a dead moth as it sank to the ground. You came and stood beside me, circling my waist, as I opened the window to let in some air. The sun shone brightly through the glass. You pointed out the yachts bobbing around in the marina.

We strolled down to the river, deciding to see what the day held in store. ‘No plans,’ you said. It felt wonderful to wander freely, without fear or panic. In that instant the world was perfect. We rolled back the years and lived in the present, young and carefree.