In the bedroom, the water resounds as I quickly rummage through the bottom drawer and pull out my things. Tugging on my clean underwear, followed by the jeans and shirt I had packed last night, I’m glad I brought my tatty old tennis shoes – there’s no way I’m making a great escape in those killer heels. I huff out a frustrated breath; some of my stuff is still in the bathroom. The bathroom he is currently in. Screw it, a toothbrush and deodorant are cheap enough to replace. I dart out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the hallway.

Picking up my jacket and keys, I locate...