Page 50 of The Plot Twist

‘William. We call him Liam, but his friends all call him Will.’

Still Allie clutched on to the hope that she was mistaken. That there was more than one Will who looked identical to the one she had kissed, the one who made her heart beat faster, the one who made her catch her breath when she saw him, laugh loud when he teased her, fall hard when she should have been keeping him at arm’s length. Because the idea that her Will, the one who was going to save her writing career along with a lovely side order of some, as yet to be delivered, smashing, was the same Will who was posed in the family photographs up and down the piano was unconscionable. It didn’t compute, it couldn’t compute, she wouldn’t let it.

‘And you said I’ve met him?’ Her voice sounded thin and wavery, asking a question she wasn’t sure she would like the answer to, while all the time running through the conversations she had had with Will, her Will, about his job.

‘Yes, he did the catering for the summer party, you know where we met at the V&A, or more accurately, outside the V&A!’ Martin chortled to himself while Allie felt like throwing up. ‘He was the one who showed you the way back in?’

‘But, but,’ Allie gabbled, ‘you said he owned the company? The man I met was a waiter, wasn’t he?’

Martin frowned at Angie and then they both smiled indulgently at the memory of their darling boy and his japes, how amusing it was to get writers all confused as to his job and his parentage when showing them the way back into a party.

‘No, no Liam likes to be involved at all stages. He isn’t always as hands on at the actual events, but if they’re short-staffed, or he feels like it, he’ll help with handing out canapés, setting up and clearing up. That kind of thing.’ Martin paused and Allie felt the cold wash of dread run over her. She was going to have to tell him, wasn’t she? And she wasn’t sure whether she meant Martin or Will. Both eventually would need to know, wouldn’t they? But which one first, and how should she break this piece of libido-quenching news? And why hadn’therWill told her that he owned the company? Why had he left her thinking that he was waitstaff? And if he hadn’t let her in on this pretty damned important part of his life, what else was he keeping from her?Washe keeping her at arm’s length, just as she was supposed to be doing with him?

‘Actually, I keep meaning to ask Liam whether it was at that party he met his new lady friend.’ This was directed at Angie. Allie shuddered when she realised that the ‘lady friend’ Martin was referring to, was, in fact, her.

‘Oh do you think so?’ Angie mused.

‘Well he hasn’t said as such, but I think he might have met her there. Bet he was glad he decided to help out that night! Finally, his workaholic tendencies might have paid off!’ Angie and Martin chortled contentedly and for a brief moment Allie felt like punching both of them and probably would have done so if it had meant that the nightmare she now found herself in would end, and she would wake up in her own bed and laugh at the ridiculousness of her own sub-conscious coming up with stupid ideas about Will, her Will, being the son of Martin and Angie. But no amount of physical violence would turn this real-life situation into a dream, and so she sat on her hands instead.

‘Well, we’ll be pleased to meet her, won’t we?’ Angie said to Martin who nodded enthusiastically. ‘He’s always sosecretiveabout his love life.’ This last was directed confidentially towards Allie who was hoping that this secretive nature might continue long enough for her to figure her way out of this mess.

‘Anyway, how are you feeling now you’ve got some Twiglets inside you?’ Martin asked as Allie stress stuffed half the bowl into her mouth in one go. ‘Do you think we should eat dinner?’

‘Yes, good idea,’ Angie said, standing up. ‘I’m sure that’s why you felt faint, dear. Low blood sugar. You need to be careful. Now you don’t have any food allergies, do you? I know Martin said he checked but you never know with him. Liam called in earlier on today and dropped off some new dishes he’s trialling for his business, we thought we could have those. I know he’d be grateful for some unbiased feedback, sometimes I think he doesn’t really trust me and his dad to be objective.’ She laughed brightly.

Allie really wasn’t sure how unbiased she could truly be given the circumstances. Nor was she sure how much of anything other than Twiglets she would be able to consume given the nausea which kept rising in her throat. But she allowed herself to be led through to the dining room, and seated in a chair while she fought the urge to run screaming from the house.

When Allie looked back on the rest of the evening, which she tried not to do, she really couldn’t recall how she had got through it. She had little recollection of the food, only partial recall of the conversation and absolutely no idea how she had made it back to her own flat. Later, the only thing she could truly, hand on her heart, swear had really happened, was her release of the howl of foreboding which had been building up inside her, ever since Angie had turned that photo to face her, and which she just about managed to muffle with her hand as she slammed her front door behind her.

ChapterFourteen

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Will’s face was the picture of concern. It wasn’t the first time he had asked and it wasn’t the first time Allie had replied to him with a complete barefaced lie.

‘Yes, yes, absolutely fine!’ She tried to grin up at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner but probably made her look like she was battling severe wind. She quickly looked down and carried on walking along the river, towards the cinema, where Will was about to make her sit through some arthouse film, which she was sure she wouldn’t likeorunderstand.Andthey probably didn’t even allow popcorn.Andhe still hadn’t come clean to her about the business and had, in fact, been busy telling her all about a party he catered for the other night from the POV of a waiter.

‘I don’t mean to keep asking, it’s just…’ Allie waited for how Will might describe her current febrile mood. ‘It’s just you keep looking at your phone…you flinch when I touch you…you’re as jumpy as a stressed out rabbit.’ In the end he went for, ‘You don’t quite seem yourself,’ and reached out and took her hand and Allie did her utmost best not to flinch this time.

‘Sorry, just thinking about work.’ Which wasn’t a complete lie. Shewasthinking about work, more precisely about the fact she had just discovered that Will’s dad was the man she was working with and that Will’s mum was amazing, and that Allie might be a little bit in love with her, and that Will’s mum had just found out that Will’s dad had lent Will’s sister money, that he may or may not need to pay back to his publisher, depending on how his and Allie’s writing plan played out. And that Will possibly didn’t know aboutanyof this, and he certainly didn’t know about the connection between his father and Allie because if he did he wouldn’t be looking at her in the way he was doing, which made her want to jump him. And all of it was horribly unfair because how was she to know that these people usedtwonames, one for family and one for friends, which was just asking for exactly the kind of mix-up that had happened. Allie decided to keep these precise details of her thoughts about work to herself.

‘How’s the writing going now?’ Will asked, seemingly genuinely interested, as well he might be, given that his dad was afamous novelistand he probably knew more about the writing process than he had previously been letting on. Allie pushed that intrusive thought to the part of her brain reserved for late night spiraling.

‘Erm, OK?’ she squeaked. ‘You must know something about writing though, you said your dad was a writer?’ She winced as she asked the question, and wondered whether he would take the out she was giving him and come clean.

Will laughed. ‘Ha! No.I’venever written anything.’

But you lived in the same household as a novelist for your entire childhood,she felt like shouting. She held her tongue, because shouting at Will was hardly fair. They had been on a handful of dates, nowhere near the stage of finding out what the parents do for a living. That was surely several dates down the line, a stage which they might now never reach if Allie didn’t fess up about the whole situation.

‘How’s your day been?’ Allie asked, putting off the inevitable uncomfortable reveal, which would have to happen at some point.

‘Not the best,’ Will confessed. ‘Had lunch with my dad today.’ Allie’s stomach dropped but her ears pricked up, hoping she might get a nugget of intelligence about Will’s relationship with his dad, which could help defend her character when Will finally discovered Allie knew Martin already.

‘You two don’t get on?’ she asked hopefully, wondering whether it would be better if they did or better if they didn’t.

‘Oh no, nothing like that. We get on great. Always have done.’

‘So…?’ prompted Allie.

Will took a deep sigh, letting Allie’s hand drop from his and shoving his hands into his pockets. If ever there was the body language for ‘I really don’t feel comfortable having this discussion,’ this was it. It was probably exactly what Will would look like after he had got over the confusion and betrayal stage when he found out about Allie’s arrangement with Martin. Once again, Allie parked that thought to add to her list for late-night panicking.

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