Page 49 of The Plot Twist

‘Is that her?’ Allie pointed to one of the photos on the mantelpiece. It was a black and white head shot and Gigi was undeniably beautiful, like a younger Angie but with a likeness to someone else that Allie couldn’t immediately think of…

‘Yes. That’s one of her headshots taken for her portfolio. It’s a couple of years old now, back when she wanted to be an actor.’

‘She doesn’t anymore?’

Angie laughed hollowly. ‘Oh goodness no. I think she was through that phase before the photos were even developed. That,’ she pointed to the photograph, ‘is quite possibly the most expensive piece of artwork in the entire house.’ She smiled at Allie, ‘Oh don’t mind me. I’m used to Gigi and her ways. One day, she’ll learn, and maybe that day will come sooner now that her dad is going to stop bailing her out.’

Allie stood and walked over to the grand piano in the corner. ‘Martin told me you sang. Do you play too?’ She ran her hand over the smooth polished wood of the piano, feeling the coolness to her touch.

‘Occasionally, but Martin is the real piano player in the family, isn’t that right, darling?’

Allie spun round in surprise at this revelation that Martin’s talents stretched beyond the literary and into the musical realm. ‘You are?’

Martin was standing with his arm around Angie staring adoringly at his wife. He shrugged slightly at Allie as she asked him, ‘Would you play something now?’

‘Only if Angie agrees to sing.’

‘Oh Martin, no, it’s too early for that. We haven’t even finished our first drinks yet.’ Allie could hear what Angie was saying but the tone in which she was saying it screamed, ‘Please ask me again, and then I’ll say yes.’

‘Please?’ Allie asked plaintively, enjoying the way Martin and Angie were gazing at each other, pretty much oblivious to her existence right now.

‘Oh OK, if you insist.’ And before Allie could say anything more Angie was round the other side of the piano, flicking through the music on the stand and beckoning Martin to come and sit. ‘This one?’ she said, pointing to the page.

‘Whichever one you want, my darling.’ If Allie hadn’t been so invested in this relationship she might have thrown up there and then, what with the amount of PDA flying about the room. But she was a hundred per cent here for this and stared as Martin settled himself in, running his hands up and down the keys as a warm-up.

Allie was not a jazz afficionado. In fact, she didn’t know much about any type of music, which made the time she decided to write a romance featuring a musician as her lead a questionable choice and something which led to months of frankly unnecessary research when she could have just switched professions easily enough. Something that Jess had unhelpfully pointed out on the night of the book launch.

But tonight, Allie would officially declare herself in love with jazz. Angie’s voice alone would have convinced her, it was rich and low, with a resonant quality which echoed around the room and seemed to strike Allie right in her heart. And then there was the way Angie’s hand rested ever so lightly on Martin’s shoulder, tensing at the high notes and relaxing as the song made its way through the sentimental crescendo. Martin obviously knew the piece off by heart, he didn’t need the music in front of him, he didn’t even need to be looking down at what his fingers were doing, all he needed to do was to look up at Angie, which he did often. And the two of them would smile at each other, a secret, private smile which Allie could just tell held the multitude of their memories and their life together. She sighed deeply, and wondered if Will played the piano, or sang. And then remembered that she did neither and so it wasn’t likely that she would find herself reenacting a similar scene and anyway, musical duets did not fit into her arm’s length strategy she reminded herself sternly. She broke into enthusiastic applause as the song came to an end.

‘That was amazing!’ she gushed, walking over to the piano. Angie and Martin smiled at each other and then at her.

‘It’s our party trick.’ Angie said.

‘We’ve been playing that piece for years,’ Martin confirmed.

‘I keep telling Martin we should find new music but he won’t have it. Doesn’t like change…’ Angie rolled her eyes at Allie who glanced quickly over at Martin to discover that he too was rolling his eyes at Allie. And just like that the spell was broken. These two were adorable, thought Allie, but also perfectly normal and flawed, just like every other couple in the world.

‘Is that your son?’ she said as she peered at some of the photo frames facing outward from the piano. The boy had dark hair, beautiful eyes and Allie could see the resemblance both to Angie and to Martin as well. She wondered what he looked like now, he was a good-looking child who had hopefully fulfilled his potential and grown into a good-looking adult.

‘Yes, but those ones are ancient. The kids look so young in them. There are more recent ones this side.’ Angie pointed to the frames which faced towards the keys of the piano, ones that Allie couldn’t yet see. ‘Here he is, this one was taken just last year at my niece’s wedding…’ Angie turned the photo around just as Martin said, ‘Actually, you’ve met him…’

Allie stared at the photo, not fully understanding what she was seeing. She was well versed in the tropes of an out-of-body experience, but while she couldn’t put her finger on whether her own individual brand of dissociative state was to feel as if she was underwater, or floating over her own body, what she did know, was that neither her body nor her brain were doing what they ought to be doing. Martin’s voice had gone all strange and slow and echoey, and while she recognised that what Martin was telling her was important, her ears didn’t want to hear it, her eyes wanted to pretend they hadn’t seen it and her brain sure as hell didn’t want to deal with the implications. Which all resulted in the feeling that her body wanted to be somewhere very far away and very quickly.

‘Are you OK?’ Whether Martin had truly seen the real state she was in was debatable but he had definitely noticed something was up. ‘Allie? You’ve gone very pale.’

‘Here, come and sit down.’ And now Angie was taking her by the arm and steering her back towards the sofa, which she should never have left the safety of. Allie looked up blearily but could still see the offending photo turned towards her.

‘Martin,’ Angie was now all authority, ‘go get some snacks. Maybe she needs something to eat. Allie, dear, when was the last time you ate?’

Allie shook her head, she honestly couldn’t remember. And why was eating so important anyway when her world was spinning upside down and back to front?

Martin was hesitating in the doorway. ‘Now, Martin,’ snapped Angie, completely destroying Allie’s brief image of them as the perfect couple.

Martin was obviously familiar with the tone of Angie’s voice because he was back incredibly quickly, carrying a bowl of something and a glass of water, both of which he put down on the table in front of Allie.

‘Here, drink some of this.’ Angie placed the glass of water in her hands and then eyed the contents of the bowl before shooting Martin a questioning look. He shrugged and picked it up to offer it to Allie, and the fact that it contained a mixture of Hula Hoops and Twiglets went some way in making Allie feel a little better about the mess of a situation she was just beginning to uncover.

‘What did you say your son was called?’ she stammered, putting the glass down and sloshing half its contents over the side.

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