Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she took a deep breath and slipped over the edge, making her way down the length of the long ladder into the alley behind the building. There were several homeless people sleeping back there, but only one was awake. She fished twenty quid from her pocket and pushed it into the old man’s hand.
“You didn’t see me,” she told him. “Violent ex-husband.”
“Bastard,” he replied. “Go.”
Deidre hurried down the alley and onto the adjoining street, grateful to find there was no alley gate to block her exit here. She wasted no time in getting to the Lime Street station and purchasing a train ticket to London, glad to see that the next train arrived in less than five minutes and hurried out to meet it.
No one seemed to pay her any attention as she boarded the train and walked along the open cars until she found a seat in a well-populated area she could lose herself in. Sitting down across from some elderly ladies knitting what looked to be pussy hats, she smiled at them and then fished out the new phone she’d purchased earlier in the day. It was pay as you go, so she’d not needed to provide even a name for it, which was good, as she struggled to recall what her name was.
It would take a little over two hours to get to London, and it would be the middle of the night. She had no idea where she would go that would be safe once she arrived, but at least she’d be far from where anyone was looking for her, hopefully. She looked at the note she’d made before tossing the old phone, unsure why she’d kept his number.
She couldn’t call it, and he didn’t seem concerned with whether she did or not anyway. He’d said nothing about staying in touch, imprint or not. He was willing to just let her disappear and never talk to her again. Deidre knew it was probably for the best for both of them, but it didn’t change that she felt hurt by it.
She pushed thoughts of him aside and began setting up the phone in case she needed it for something. If nothing else, she could play games on it while she traveled. It didn’t take long, and she was soon lost in reading blogs about living in London instead. She might as well know what there was to do when you were alone in a city.
As the train pulled into London, she could feel her heart thudding against her chest. She was anxious, uncertain. What if her papers weren’t good at all? What if it was all a scam and the man who’d created them was just a con artist? Every scenario imaginable crossed her mind as she stepped off the train and made her way through the station, ducking into the bathroom for a moment before exiting.
Using the privacy of a stall, she opened the envelope she’d stuffed in her backpack and looked inside. There were a number of papers inside, as well as a passport and what appeared to be mail. Two identical keys were taped to a notecard with an address above them. Below that, the words “Welcome Home” were printed.
Deidre pulled out the passport and opened it to see a photo of herself and the same address as was on the card. Deanna Caine. At least it was partly close to her own name. A few people had referred to her as Dee in her life, so it might not be too much of a shock to her system. Even if it was, she’d just have to get used to it.
She pulled the keys out and put everything else back, stuffing the envelope in her pack. Walking outside the station, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address, leaning back against the seat as he drove her toward her new life. She closed her eyes and thought again of Niall, remembered how his touch had felt against her skin.
When she opened them, she found herself in a quaint neighborhood with colorful little flats mixed in among brick and stone facades. The driver pulled up in front of a section of flats that were alternating red brick and pastel colors. She paid him and stepped out, looking up at the one matching the card in her hand.
“Lucky 13,” she mumbled. “Let’s hope so.”
She held her breath as she pulled off a key and put it in the lock, exhaling when it made proper contact and turned.
She was home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Niall
It didn’t feel like a week had passed since he’d held Deidre in his arms, but that was the case. Not a day had passed when he’d not thought about her and wondered how she was doing. He found himself wishing that he’d given her some way to safely contact him, but he knew it had been a risk to do so.