HOPE

I COULD SAY, READER I married him. But it wouldn't be true. It might be satisfying but it wouldn't be true. What I did do was settle down into a new life.

It took a week to end up on this island, far from the mainland, accessible only by boat or small plane. I had headed north as far as my money took me, finally stepping down onto the ground in the north of Scotland. It didn't take long for a sailor to take pity on me and agree to transport me across to the island.

I'd looked up a map of Scotland at an internet cafe during my travel north, zooming in on the different isles that ringed the country. In the end I picked the smallest inhabited one I could find, balancing that out against the risk of finding no place to stay when I got there.

Once the boat dropped me off, I thanked the captain before heading into the only town, more of a village really.

There was a shop-cum-post office, a pub that was also someone's living room, a church, and a few houses. That was about it. Apart from the stunningly beautiful surroundings. I walked into the shop and the smile from the woman behind the counter was too much for me to bear.

Whether it was the emotions of the pregnancy or the exhaustion of travel, I don't know. But whatever it was, it led to me bursting into tears on her shop floor, the old woman's arm around my shoulders, waiting for me to be capable of answering her questions.

"Come and have a cup of tea back here," she said in a thick Scottish accent, leading me around the counter and into a tiny little room behind it. The fire was lit and I sank into an armchair next to it, watching as she hummed her way over to the kettle.

I took a mug of tea from her a few minutes later and she sat opposite me, still smiling. "So where are you from, my dear?"

"England."

"Oh, dear. Still, never mind, eh? What brings you all the way out here?"

I shrugged before patting my stomach. "A fresh start."

She beamed as she realised what I meant. "I haven't seen a baby on this island since Sally in 1997. This is very exciting. Where are you staying?"

"Well, I haven't got anywhere organised yet."

"You can stay here for now, then I’ve a house you might like to see. I’ve been trying to sell it so I can retire but no one wants it."

The way she said it was enough to make me cry again.

That was my first day on the island but there have been many more since then.

I slowly got bigger, working in the shop with Morag, who became like a mother to me, bustling around, making me tea, feeding me up, making me feel loved and wanted. I had no idea what I'd done to deserve it but I vowed never to take her help for granted.

She’d told me I could stay in the house until it sold but without a for sale sign or any easy access from the mainland, it didn’t seem likely to sell any time soon.

The pregnancy progressed until I was almost incapable of squeezing around the counter in the shop. Once I reached that stage, I spent a lot of time outdoors, taking in the air, watching the ships pass by on the horizon, wondering who was on them, what stories they would have to tell about their journeys.

For the first couple of months of my stay, I was the source of constant gossip in the village but it didn't take too long before every inhabitant began to see me as their daughter, bringing me cakes and knitted baby clothes in preparation.

No one asked about the father and I was glad. I didn't know what to tell them. He was a violent man, as violent as his father. It hurt to even think about them and I did my best to put them in a box marked 'past' and then lock it away in my mind.

But the thoughts crept out when I slept and I often woke up crying.

When I gave birth, I didn't stop crying for a very long time. Everyone was so concerned but I couldn't explain. I couldn't tell them how hard it was to look at something so beautiful as my little baby girl and think how it was the product of such a violent man.

The only thing that cheered me was her. She looked up at me with such innocent eyes, I knew that I had broken the cycle at last.

My mother had met Edward after my father's death. He'd spied a vulnerable woman with expert eyes, getting his claws into her whilst I was barely aware of what was happening. Some of my earliest memories are of him hitting her, making her apologise, watching her sob.

Was it any wonder that I ended up with his son? What chance did I have? He'd snatched me away from the farm, taking me with him when I was still little more than a toddler.

My memory was hazy, it was so long ago and yet some things were clear as if they'd happened only yesterday. He was loading me into the car, telling me to sit quietly next to Jason, his little boy, who proceeded to scowl at me from the other seat.

He told me afterwards that mum had run away, left us to it. But that didn't make sense. I remembered her watching him drive us away from the farm.

But he told me the story so many times, I came to believe it. Mum had left, then she'd died. He would look after me and I should be grateful. If I wasn't, he might get angry. I should work hard and do what he said or he’d got angry.

I did work hard and I did what he said but he got angry anyway. Father and son were as bad as each other. By the time I was old enough to marry, he had it all arranged.

I never thought I could go. It never occurred to me to leave, not until I fell pregnant.

But looking down at the thin line on the test was like looking into the future. If I stayed, I'd be consigning her to the same life as mine, a life of raised voices and apologies and violence and I wasn't going to do it.

Something snapped inside me, something that needed to break in order for me to see clearly for the first time in my life. It was like a blindfold was lifted from my eyes. He'd punished mum by taking me away from her, not letting her see me anymore, her own child. He'd worked his will on her so well she didn't even try to involve the police. I realised that long afterwards, when it was too late to try and track her down. I didn't even know the address of the farm, I'd been too young when I was taken from it.

I left the house late at night, not taking a thing, not wanting to risk waking them. Jason slept on as I tiptoed from the room, avoiding the creaking step on the stairs as I made it out.

I got to the next town and thought I was safe but someone must have seen me because they turned up at the pub where I was trying to think of what to do next.

It was funny, in a way. I'd not given a moment's thought to what I was going to do when I left. Then they appeared and I let them take me outside, let their whispered evil drip into my ears. It was only when they mentioned the pregnancy test that I came to my senses.

Of course they'd found it, I was an idiot for not hiding it better. They were talking about me coming home and if I didn’t, I might not be able to walk when the baby came. Then they let slip that the child would need to behave better than I did and I lost it.

I ran. They tried to hold onto me, grabbing my wrists, hands on my throat. But knowing I was protecting her gave me strength. I got away from them. I made it to Rob who protected me. And who I thanked by leaving him far behind.

No, don't think about him. You promised not to think about him again. Think about Faith, about the way she's sitting on the beach next to you, staring out at the sea, dipping her pudgy little fingers into the sand.

I'd broken the cycle. I might not have achieved much in my life but I had Faith. She was all I needed, all I wanted, or so I told myself.

I didn't need a man. It was better to be a single parent on a remote island than back on the mainland and at risk of them tracking me down. They'd never find me here. I hoped.

I lasted another month before I looked up Rob online. I had managed to survive that long but when Morag left her computer open with the internet window screaming at me, I couldn't resist.

I told myself I was just going to check he was all right and then get back to forgetting about him. That was until I found out what he'd done.