Secrets

The rain beats down the side of the bus and I shiver in my coat, despite the heat blasting out through the heaters. Despite being back in London for over a week now, my body still hasn't re-acclimatised to the December weather after the glorious sunshine I have been used to. Lost in my memories of Bali and riding elephants in the reserve, I almost miss my stop, but thankfully someone else rings the bell, breaking me out of my reverie.

I hurry through the rain as I make the short walk home along the square, the park beside me completely invisible in the inclement weather. I finally make it to the front door, where I hurriedly let myself in. As I hang up my dripping coat and stow my umbrella away, I am aware of the silence of the house and wonder whether Alex will make it back tonight.

Each night since we got back, I have made him dinner and waited up with no success. And every morning when I wake the dinner has been placed in the fridge uneaten. On the flight back to London, it was lik