I’m not sure whether it is the police that I have to worry about or just the revenge of an angry couple whose marriage I tried to tear apart, but either way, I’m not planning on hanging around long enough to find out. Since hanging up on Ally, I have thrown all my important possessions into a suitcase before throwing everything else into black bags and disposing of it all in the bins outside my flat. Now I am in a taxi headed to the airport with my passport in my handbag, and I plan on taking the first flight out of here. I don’t care where I go. I just need to get away because there are going to be some angry people looking for me, and some of them might want to hurt me.
I’ve committed various offences over the years, both moral and legal, and it remains to be seen just how many of them are going to be exposed. But while I can’t change anything incriminating that has already come out, I can ensure that I don’t add to my woes by admitting to anything else that I have done wrong. That is why I have disposed of my mobile phone too, ensuring that any recording devices or trackers that a private investigator might be using on me should have been taken care of, allowing me to make my escape in good time.
Of all the targets I have had over the years, I had not expected Sam and Rebecca to be the ones to bring me down. Why couldn’t they be like all the other couples and just get a divorce? Why did they have to fight back? Ally’s message told me that it was Sam who had hired a PI, and while I admire his fighting spirit, I am unsure as to how he and any investigator were able to track me down and uncover my secrets. That unanswered question is going to bug me for a long time, but it can bug me while I am sitting on a beach abroad rather than in a police station in the UK where I am awaiting questioning.
All the homes I broke into. All the lies I told.
All the lives I destroyed.
Business was good while it lasted, and maybe I’ll be able to start up again one day in the future, but for now, I have no one to blame for this mess but myself. Maybe I got complacent, or perhaps I was just due some bad luck after getting away with so much for so long. Maybe I was always going to get found out in the end. Whatever has happened in the past, all I can affect now is the immediate future and my immediate future lies overseas.
I can see the lights of the airport terminal up ahead, and I’m impressed with how quickly my taxi driver has gotten me here. He obviously doesn’t know that I am potentially running from the law right now, but I appreciate his haste anyway. What I don’t appreciate is the fact that it’s approaching midnight, and it’s unlikely that I am going to be able to get a flight out of here this evening. I will go in and check, but I’m expecting to be told that the next flight will be leaving at dawn, so I might have to make do with a room at the airport hotel for the next few hours. But it’s worth a try anyway, and I waste no time in dragging my suitcase out of the back of the taxi and pulling it behind me into the terminal.
My shoes clatter across the marble floor as I approach the desk, but the fact there are no queues anywhere suggests that I am right in thinking that there are no flights taking off from here over the next few hours. The pretty woman behind the desk is polite enough to confirm that information for me, and my eyes watch her lipstick red lips as she tells me about the first available plane seat being on a 06:40 flight to Lisbon tomorrow morning. I tell her that will do and make the necessary booking before enquiring about a room for the night at the nearby hotel. Fortunately, there is some availability, so I make my way back out of the airport and take the shuttle bus that will drop me at the hotel door.
After checking in and reaching my room, it is a relief to close the door and drop my suitcase onto the bed. I’m not a fan of running but it has to be done, and I will keep running until I am sure that I am safe. I underestimated Sam and the lengths he would go to in order to prove his innocence. That was my mistake. But I won’t be making any more mistakes. And maybe I won’t be knocking on any more front doors again either.
This might be the sign I needed to have a change of career. I got thrown into this life after my experience with Devon, but that doesn’t mean that is the best life for me. I could find something else to do. It probably won’t pay as well, but it won’t hurt as many people either.
I’m just about to start getting undressed before climbing into bed and getting a few hours of shuteye before my early morning flight when I hear the knock on my hotel room door.
I have no idea who it is. I’m not even sure I want to answer it. But just like all those people whose front doors I knocked on over the years, I might not have a
