for no other reason – do it for that.’
Alice feels a jolt. Tom.
‘So, Nathan told you that his name was Thomas Evans?’
Beth nods. ‘Born on twenty-first of May, 1976.’
‘So regardless, you’ve known for ages that your Thomas and my Tom were two entirely different people. Yet you still implied that he was one and the same person.’
‘Yes,’ whispers Beth.
‘So . . . so you never actually knew my Tom?’ Alice asks tentatively. ‘Your Thomas Evans was Nathan.’
Beth nods.
A rush of relief floods through Alice, reigniting every tiny flame that she’d bequeathed to Tom over the past ten years. ‘So Tom was the man I thought he was?’ she asks, with tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘He was never the man you made me think he was.’
‘No.’
Alice lambasts herself for ever believing otherwise. She knew her Tom hadn’t been capable of what Beth was accusing him of. She steels herself before asking the next question, unsure of the answer she wants to hear, unsure of what her best friend is truly capable of.
‘He’s on Facebook . . .’ she starts. ‘My Tom is on Facebook living a new life . . .’ She can’t bear to look at Beth, knowing that her expression will tell her all she needs to know.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Beth chokes. ‘I wanted you to think that he might still be out there. That he’d left you because he wanted to. Just like Nathan had left me.’
Alice closes her eyes tightly, willing her heart not to break all over again. ‘But the photos?’
‘Surprisingly easy,’ says Beth quietly. ‘They’re all on your phone, and how often have you left it on a pub table whilst you went to the bar, or given it to me to hold whilst you were in the toilet? The picture of the other woman and child was a random photo from the internet.’
‘God, you must really hate me,’ cries Alice.
‘I thought you were part of it,’ says Beth after a long pause. ‘I saw the house and the cars, and just assumed that it was my mother’s money that was paying for it all.’
Alice feels numb and wearily pulls on the door handle.
‘What are you going to do?’ asks Beth as Alice goes to step out. ‘Are you going to tell Nathan you know everything?’
She doesn’t even have the energy to reply.
44
Alice feels like there’s a tennis ball lodged in her throat, blocking her airways, as she makes her way up the stairs to the office.
‘Whoa, I didn’t think you were going to make it back in time,’ says Nathan, moving in to kiss her. ‘Where were you?’
She stares at him, not knowing what she’s looking for, but there’s nothing to suggest he’s the man who’s defrauded her best friend and her mother. Nothing to explain why he’d used Tom’s name before he’d even met Alice. And nothing to suggest he knows he’s about to be rumbled. His calmness almost floors her. She moves past him without a word.
‘We’ve got fifteen minutes until we complete,’ says Nathan as he follows her into her office.
‘Great,’ she murmurs.
‘You okay?’ he asks. ‘You look tense.’
‘Nervous,’ she manages.
‘That’s not a bad thing,’ he says. ‘You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t.’
She smiles tightly.
‘Get the champagne on ice, Lottie,’ is the last thing she hears Nathan say as she closes her door behind him.
Her phone rings, displaying Liz’s number. She’d forgotten all about her.
‘Liz, hi.’
‘Hello Alice – have you got a minute? I just wanted to come back to you on this contract.’
‘Yep, sure. Anything I need to be worried about?’
‘Well, only that there’s a clause that I’ve just had checked out. I thought it might just have been a discrepancy caused by translating the contract from Japanese to English, but I checked with a colleague and it’s a pretty important one – I hope it’s not too late.’
‘No, but we’re close,’ says Alice. ‘Completion’s scheduled for about fifteen minutes’ time.’
‘Well, it looks to me as if there’s a covenant on the land.’
‘Yes, my lawyer in Japan mentioned something about that,’ says Alice. ‘He’d flagged it up to Nathan, who assured me that all was well.’
‘But it means that nothing more than a temporary structure can be built on the land you’re buying. A shed, car port, something along those lines, perhaps, but certainly not a permanent apartment complex.’
‘Well, that doesn’t make sense,’ says Alice tightly. ‘We’ve got planning for twenty-eight apartments.’
‘I can’t see how that can be the case,’ says Liz. ‘Because as I say, the land