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He looked at me with a sharper expression. ‘So it meant something to you?’ he said. ‘It wasn’t just to find out about Milena.’

‘No! But it was wrong all the same. I was so hurt and so confused and I should never have slept with you. It wasn’t fair.’

‘But you did. And now someone has been killed.’

‘Yes.’

‘Perhaps because you came and stirred things up.’

‘I’ve thought of that.’

Johnny put the glass down and then put his hands on my face, ran them down to my neck. I willed myself to stay entirely still, although my skin was crawling with dread. ‘So who do you think killed her?’ he said at last.

‘I don’t know.’

‘What if it was me?’

‘Was it?’ I asked.

He raised his right hand from my neck and slapped me across the face so hard that tears came to my eyes. I didn’t speak.

‘That’s for lying to me,’ he said. He got up.

‘Wait,’ I said, as he turned to go. ‘I need to show you something.’

‘What?’

I went over to the little chest, opened the drawer and drew out the menu card. Without saying anything I passed it to him and he stared at it.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said eventually. ‘Why the fuck have you got this?’

‘It was found among Greg’s possessions. It was what made me believe he was having an affair with Milena. It even has the date on it. But then you said something that made me realize you were with her on the twelfth of September.’

‘But this is mine.’

‘What do you mean, yours?’

‘She sent it to me.’

‘She can’t have done.’

‘You think I wouldn’t remember?’

‘But it’s to “Darling G”.’

He examined it for a few seconds. ‘No. That’s just a continuation of the J – you can even see the join if you look closely.’

‘How come it was in Greg’s stuff,’ I asked weakly, ‘if she sent it to you?’

‘I sent it back. I sent everything that had ever belonged to her back when she finished it – marched round to her house and dumped it in her lap.’

‘So it was in her possession, not yours.’

‘I thought she’d just burn it or something.’

I rubbed my face, trying to concentrate. ‘How did it get from her house to here?’

Johnny shrugged. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’

‘Maybe it was Frances all the time,’ I said drearily.

‘What the fuck are you on about now?’

‘Frances was having an affair too,’ I said. ‘I thought maybe -’

‘I don’t want to hear what you thought about Frances,’ he said angrily. ‘She’s dead. Killed by some maniac. Let her alone, do you hear me? You’ve done enough. She was a good woman. Now leave her in peace.’

‘Are you going to call the police?’ I said.

‘I think that’s for you to do, don’t you?’ he said. ‘At the moment they’re curious. Soon they’ll be suspicious. Don’t leave it too long. Or I’ll make up your mind for you.’

As soon as he was gone, I rang Gwen. I didn’t even say hello. ‘Have the police been in touch with you?’ I asked.

‘Ellie? Yes, some policeman rang me. How on earth did you know?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

Chapter Twenty-five

‘You’re kidding me.’ Gwen was staring at me across the kitchen table. She’d been running her fingers through her hair as I talked so now it stood up in small blonde tufts. She looked bewildered and accusing all at once. Her eyes were owlishly round.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘I think I’d better have that drink, after all.’

‘Red or white?’

‘Whisky?’

‘Whisky it is.’

‘So all this time…’

‘Yes.’

‘And you said you were -’

‘You. Yes.’ I poured her a large whisky, neat and ice-less. She took a deep gulp; her eyes watered. I poured another for myself and let it burn a trail down my throat.

‘And you got away with it?’

‘Yes. Until now.’

‘And now, this woman, Frances…’

‘Has been murdered.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck fuck fuck.’

‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

‘I don’t know. What should I be saying?’

‘You could scream at me. Don’t you feel angry?’

‘Angry?’ She considered, swilling her whisky in the glass, then taking another vast swallow so that I could see her throat jumping. The drink was nearly gone already.

‘Because I pretended to be you, because I lied to you about what I was up to, because I didn’t confide in you, because I’ve been so stupid, because -’

‘OK, OK, I get it. Here, give me another of these.’ She held out her glass. ‘Angry’s not the right word, Ellie. I can’t get my head round it. You’ve been using my name, infiltrating this poor woman’s business, breaking into computers, like some sort of spy, to find out – what?’

‘Something. Anything. I thought I’d go mad otherwise. And, in fact, I did find out something. I found out that Frances’s husband was having an affair with Milena, and that there was another man who was with her the night I’d thought she was with Greg. And then I found out that the menu card with the love note on – it was a forgery.’

‘What?’

‘It wasn’t to Greg at all.’

‘This is all too much to take in. You say this woman – Frances – was murdered.’

I nodded, trying not to let the image of Frances’s open, staring eyes flood through me again. ‘She was.’

‘And are you assuming that this has anything to do with Greg?’

‘I’ve no idea. It must have something to do with Milena. Though she was having an affair too – that’s probably irrelevant. I can’t think straight. Everywhere I look I see these betrayals.’

‘Are you in danger?’

‘Me?’

‘Or me?’ said Gwen.

‘No, I don’t think so, but I’m going to the police. I’ll clear up the confusion.’

‘Who else knows?’

I could feel the flush rising up my neck and covering my face. ‘There’s this guy. He’s called Johnny.’

‘Who is?’

‘Kind of a chef.’

‘And?’

‘He was Milena’s lover – one of many.’

‘How did he find out you weren’t me?’

‘He tracked me down here after he’d heard about Frances. I probably should say that I missed something out. It’s not particularly relevant, but we had a kind of thing. I slept with him. Twice.’

‘Oh.’

‘What does that mean – oh?’

‘All these secrets.’

I sloshed more whisky into her glass and my own. ‘It’s a great relief that you know,’ I said, after a pause.

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment there was a loud knocking at the door. My head was swimming as I made my way down the hall and opened it.

Joe stood there, wrapped in his thick coat, a huge grin on his face, which was rosy with the cold.

‘I’ve brought you a rowing-machine,’ he said. ‘I could hardly get it into the car.’

‘Why?’

‘I thought it would be good for you, keep you fit through these winter months. And I didn’t actually go out and buy it, a client gave it to me.’

I didn’t want a rowing-machine. And after our last encounter I didn’t much want to see Joe.

‘And I wanted to say sorry for – you know – what happened. Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

‘Gwen’s here.’

He stepped past me and walked towards the kitchen, calling greetings to Gwen.

‘Hi there, Joe,’ she said.

‘You’ve been drinking,’ he said cheerfully.

‘So would you have been in my position.’

‘What position is that?’ He took off his coat and slung it over the back of a chair.

Gwen might not have been angry, but Joe was. He was furious, shocked and hurt. His blue eyes blazed and his lips turned white. He banged his glass down on the table so that the whisky splashed everywhere and told me I’d been very, very stupid and why the fuck hadn’t I told him what I was doing? Didn’t I understand that he and Alison wanted to look after me? Greg had been like a son to him and I was like a daughter. ‘What the fuck were you up to?’ he said. ‘What the fuck were you playing at?’