‘What the hell have I done?’
Credit: Montana Lowery
It is 350 miles from Hampstead Heath (via the ferry at Pembroke) to East Ferry, where one of my bridesmen has offered to lend me his cottage near the Irish coast.
I leave my life packed in a 50 sq ft storage unit and head off with a suitcase and enough cash in the bank from the sale of my flat to flee to Barbados. I am a woman on the run. A one-girl Thelma and Louise. It feels like I’ve got away with murder and in a way I have – my own. Except this is better because now I can start again.