I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, gulped as much of it down in one go as I could as the rest dribbled down my chin. Two more glasses followed and, once satisfied, I pulled open the small wardrobe next to the bathroom, yanked a green flannel shirt from a hanger and reached for a pair of jeans. They were so long and baggy they pooled at the bottom of my ankles, but they were warm, and as I hoisted them over my board shorts I heard loud voices outside, two people in a heated argument. I ducked, leaving a sliver of space for me to see out of the window. A man, his shoulders almost as broad as his legs were long, strode ahead of a petite blonde woman. She took twice as many steps to keep up with him, almost running by his side, and both yelled at each other as they approached, their words gaining enough clarity for me to hear.

“No, Rita,” the man shouted. “I’m not going to calm the fu—”

“Don’t you swear at me, Sal,” Rita yelled back, her face pinched. “I apologized. I told you it didn’t mean anything. And let’s be real. It’s not like you’ve never—”

“Don’t put this on me.” Sal stopped, turned and pointed a finger. “We weren’t married.”

Rita let out a piercing laugh. “You’re a hypocrite.”

“Get in the car.”

“I’m not driving home with you in this mood.”

Sal the giant didn’t move, and when Rita refused to budge, he said, “Suit yourself.”

He opened the driver’s door, disappeared inside and started the engine. I wondered if he would leave his wife stranded there, but after a moment’s hesitation, Rita scuttled over and got in the car.

This had been my cue, time to get out of the trailer and hope they were too distracted by their arguing to see me, but the vague shreds of recognition I’d experienced when I’d spotted the Maine number plate stopped me from moving. The air filled with the scent of lemon air freshener, and when the trailer lurched forward, I’d made no attempt to escape because something inside me gently whispered that Maine was home.

4

LILY