Page 46 of The Plot Twist

‘Yes.’ Martin replied, sounding more like a meek twelve-year-old boy, than the aging bestselling novelist that he was. Or used to be.

‘Martin!’ Allie exploded. ‘This is not OK. Get off the phone with me and call her back right now.’

‘But what should I say?’ Martin wheedled.

‘I don’t know! Maybe tell her you’re sorry. That you shouldn’t have given Gigi the money in the first place. That you should have told her from the start. But that you’ve realised the error of your ways, you won’t do it again, and that you’re writing another bestseller?’

‘You’re good,’ Martin said. ‘Any chance you could do this for me?’

‘You had better be joking,’ Allie snapped.

‘I am, don’t worry. But you’re better at this than me.’

‘This being?’

‘You know, relationships, reading people, understanding emotions.’

‘Oh, stop being so pathetic. You’re a grown man Martin.’

There was a long silence. ‘Martin?’ Allie asked. ‘What’s that sound in the background?’ Allie had heard something she thought she recognised. ‘Martin, where are you?’ There was another long pause and then Allie groaned, ‘Martin, please don’t tell me you came to see me rather than calling your wife back?’

‘How did you know?’ Martin asked meekly.

‘I recognise the man who stands outside the Tube shouting,’ Allie huffed and then sighed. ‘Alright, I’ll text you my address. Come over, we can discuss this but then you must promise to call Angie.’

‘I promise,’ Martin acquiesced.

Allie put the phone down and while she tapped out her address she cursed her previous self for ever mentioning her closest tube station.

* * *

‘You do know how wrong this feels?’ Allie asked when she answered the door a few minutes later. Martin was standing on her doorstep with two cups of takeaway tea in his hands looking sheepish. He offered one to her and she snatched it from him with an, ‘I have better tea here.’ And then she immediately felt bad for being so churlish. Yes, Martin should have called Angie back, rather than turning up on Allie’s doorstep, but it was rather sweet that he thought Allie such an expert on romance and love that he should instinctively seek her advice first.

‘Honestly?’ he said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs as Allie had refused to take it from him in the hallway. ‘I was in your neck of the woods already; I had lunch with my son. And when I got Angie’s message I was only a few minutes from your Tube stop.’

He sat down at the table which Allie glared at him across. ‘I know it was the wrong thing to do,’ he admitted, ‘and I will call Angie, of course. But I wouldn’t mind having a cup of tea with you before I do so. I guess I feel we’re mates now?’

Allie couldn’t help but feel flattered, and it was true, the time they had spent together in the last few weeks had been enjoyable as well as being useful. Allie had really started to look forward to seeing Martin and found his outlook on life so refreshingly different from hers. But she was still annoyed that he was at her kitchen table unloading his disaster upon her when everything in her world had been going so well. And she really wanted to get back to writing; she was on a roll with a romance inspired by Martin’s lifelong devotion to Angie and spiced up by the way Will made her feel. She glanced at her watch surreptitiously.

‘I didn’t realise your son lived round here,’ Allie said grudgingly. She presumed that Martin, like all affluent writers who had made it big in the eighties and nineties, lived in north London. Allie took a sip of her tea and wished again that Martin hadn’t bothered and she could have made something more drinkable.

‘He works in Hammersmith, that’s where his office is located.’

‘Right. You said he had his own company.’

‘Yes.’ Martin took a sip of his tea and pulled a face that suggested he agreed with Allie’s hot take on the beverage.

‘Running a restaurant, right?’ Allie asked when it became clear that Martin was not about to elaborate.

‘Well, actually, that’s his business partner’s side of things. He runs the catering arm. Does a lot of functions. Anyway, sorry, this is totally irrelevant, you’re right. I need to talk to Angie, I’m going to do it right now.’ He started to pull his phone out of his pocket.

‘Martin, no!’ Allie practically shouted. ‘Good grief, not here! Not in front of me.’

Martin blinked at her. ‘Oh right, yes, sorry.’

He looked panicked, absolutely out of his depth and she felt terrible for the mess he found himself in. He so obviously adored Angie and wanted to make things right. Yes he’d made a stupid mistake and he should have confessed a long time before, but Allie really hoped that Angie would understand that although misguided, his heart was in the right place.

She sighed and regarded this man who had suddenly inserted himself into such an important position in her writing life, who singlehandedly might end up saving her from Jake Matthews, and then she had a thought. ‘Oh hey, I heard from Verity.’

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