Chapter 6

My solicitor told me, later, that he signed shortly after that conversation.

He chose to leave with nothing. Every pound from his savings and from the sale of the flat went into my account.

The day I received the decree absolute, it was sunny.

I came out of the registry office and Lucas was standing on the steps below. He was holding his copy of the paperwork. He wasn't looking at me. Just looking down.

"I've put in for a transfer. Remote mountain rescue post. Very isolated." His voice was quiet. "Dangerous enough that I might not come back."

I put my copy in my bag and zipped it closed.

"Right," I said. "Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

He flinched — his shoulders just barely. Then he raised his eyes and looked at me, finally, properly, for one last time.

"I'm sorry, Sylvia. I hope the rest of your life is —" He stopped. Started again. "I hope you're all right."

I didn't answer.

I walked to the taxi at the kerb and got in.

Some roads, once you've reached the end of them, you don't need to retrace.