Page 81 of No Safe Place

Sunday | Morning

Lily

After barely sleeping all night, she slept through her alarm.

Lily had missed Callum’s discharge from the Maudsley. He was going to think she’d rather be here, with Scott. The rush of guilt was quickly overtaken by rage, when she stood up too quickly and felt the familiar sicky sensation in her stomach.

She’d slept fully clothed, shoes still on. All she had to do was put her rings on, and give her hair a quick brush.

The chair was still wedged under the door. Lily had a vision of Scott standing on the other side, waiting silently for her to emerge. She put a hand over her pounding heart, taking a few deep breaths.

She dislodged the chair and opened the door in one swift move.

Lily dragged the chair back into the living room and found Scott passed out on the sofa, an arm thrown over his face. There was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the coffee table, only a third of it gone.

Lightweight.

Lily checked the travel app on her phone. She would never make it to Denmark Hill in time. It would be quicker to travel back to theirs, and hope Cal would be there.

Scott’s phone was on the side in the kitchen, the battery dead.

Lily looked down at it, weighing up her options.

She desperately wanted to get out of the flat, escape the white walls, white furniture and the overpowering scent from the nine reed diffusers in five rooms. But she could stand ten more minutes.

Fuck it.

Lily carried his phone to the bedroom, and plugged it in.

While she waited for it to charge, she decided to strip the bedsheets. She took them back to the kitchen, stuffed them in the washing machine and set it off on the first setting she landed on. Lily didn’t want Scott to smell her on his sheets when he eventually went to bed.

By the time the washing was rolling round on its cycle, his phone had turned itself on.

In a few taps she’d entered his passcode and opened his emails.

Lily flicked through his sent items, taking quick photos on her phone of the email addresses he’d been in touch with, including that of his boss, and someone important-sounding who’d sent a hospital-wide memo on patient confidentiality.

Scott’s phone was on four per cent battery, so she unplugged it again.

He was still asleep when Lily left.

No fanfare, no final row – but she had several emails she needed to send on her bus ride.