The Girl Before

I make my decision.

I will take what I can from Edward. And then I will let them fade into history, all the characters in this drama. Emma Matthews and the men who loved her, who became obsessed with her. They’re not important to us now. But one day, when Toby is old enough, I will take down a shoe box from the shelf where it is kept, and I will tell him again the story of his sister, Isabel Margaret Cavendish, the girl who came before.

NOW: ASTRID

“It’s extraordinary,” I say, looking in disbelief at the pale stone walls, the space, the light. “I’ve never seen such an amazing house. Not even in Denmark.”

“It is rather special,” Camilla agrees. “The architect’s actually rather famous. Do you remember the fuss last year about that eco-town in Cornwall?”

“It was something about the residents refusing to accept the terms of their leases, wasn’t it? Didn’t he get them all thrown out?”

“The lease here is quite complicated too,” Camilla says. “If you want to take this any further, I should probably talk you through it.”

I look around me, at the soaring walls, the floating staircase, the incredible serenity and calm. In such a place, I think, I could be whole again, put all the bitterness and rage of the divorce behind me. “I’m definitely interested,” I hear myself say.

“Good. Oh, and by the way.” Camilla’s looking up at the roof void now, as if reluctant to meet my eye. “I’m sure you’ll Google the address anyway so there’s no point in not telling you. The house does have a bit of history—a young couple who lived here. First she fell down the stairs and died, and then three years later he died in exactly the same spot. They think he must have thrown himself down deliberately, to be with her.”

“Well, it’s certainly tragic,” I say. “But as tragedies go, quite romantic. If you’re asking whether that would put me off…It wouldn’t. Anything else I should know?”

“Just that the owner can be a bit of a tyrant. I must have shown dozens of prospective tenants around in the last few weeks, and none of them have been accepted.”

“Believe me, I know how to deal with tyrants. I lived with one for six years.”

And so that evening I find myself leafing through the endless pages of the application form. So many rules to read! And so many questions to answer! It’s tempting to get myself a drink to help me through it but I haven’t had one for almost three weeks now and I’m trying to keep it that way.

Please make a list of every possession you consider essential to your life.

I take a deep breath and pick up my pen.