Page 67 of The Plot Twist

‘Congratulations,’ Allie quipped, ‘I had noticed by the way.’

Will raised his eyebrow at her. ‘Now if he had described you in the way I see you … smart, funny, sexy as hell…’ He leaned over her, putting his hands on her hips, pulling her towards him and beginning to kiss slowly up her neck. Allie thought this slightly unfair as they had already established that she became pretty much powerless when he pulled this move. She moaned slightly and put her hands in his thick dark hair. Morning breath be damned, she pulled him towards her and kissed him hard on the lips. And then just as suddenly she moaned again, for entirely different reasons this time, and pushed him away from her.

‘Will, it’s a bit more complicated than I think you believe it to be.’

He looked at her quizzically. ‘Oh?’

‘Yeah…’ She sighed. ‘So look, no more secrets right?’

Allie took a deep breath, this was it. Now she was here, he was here and she had started her confession, she needed to go for the ripping-the-plaster-off approach. If she hesitated, if she second-guessed herself, she wouldn’t be able to do it, and so she said, as quickly as she could, ‘I didn’t know at first he was your dad. I mean when I met you both for the first time I definitely didn’t know. And I honestly didn’t know that he was your dad when all this started – between you and me. And between Martin and me. God no! Not like that, that sounds weird. I mean when Martin and I, I mean your dad and I, decided to start working together and helping each other with our writing. But then I saw your photo and realised, but by then it was too late and he had told me loads about your mum and about your sister…’

Will’s face, which had been a picture of puzzled bewilderment as he listened to Allie vomit up her confession, suddenly twisted. ‘Gigi?’ he asked. ‘He told you about Gigi?’

Allie nodded slowly.

‘And about my mum?’

Allie nodded again.

There was a pause.

‘What exactly did he tell you?’ he said slowly.

‘Pretty much everything.’ Allie grimaced. ‘I mean, not like really intimate stuff, don’t worry. But about how he didn’t think he’d been a good husband, how he and Angie, sorry, your mum, hadn’t been getting along. About bailing out Gigi for years and how he needed to write this book because Gigi had already spent the advance…’

‘Christ.’ Will leaned back on his elbows on the bed. ‘That really is pretty much everything.’ He smiled grimly. ‘And there I was thinking it might be a bit weird between us because you and my dad had been helping each other write. This takes it to a whole other level. I’m really sorry you had to deal with all that.’

Allie sat up straighter. ‘Will,’ she said earnestly, ‘stop apologising. None of this is your fault.’

‘I know, but I’m just sorry you’ve got dragged into it all. I can’t imagine what gave Dad the idea that you would want to hear all about the sorry drama of our family.’

Allie swallowed nervously. ‘For my book.’

Will looked at her sideways. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked sharply.

‘It’s for my book.’

‘You’re writing about my familyfor your book?’

‘Well, yes, I mean no, I mean kind of,’ Allie floundered. Finally, after looking up at the ceiling for inspiration she confessed, ‘Not your family. Just your parents.’

There was a long pause. The kind of pause that made Allie wonder if she should just get up, get dressed and leave. She cast her eyes around Will’s bedroom and wondered how long it would take her to gather up her clothes and how undignified she would look as she scrabbled about on the floor to get them. And whether this would make Will think she was more or less dignified than the revelation that she had beenusing his parents to write her next novel. She decided it was best to stay put and see what happened next. Because, after all, she did still have her knickers on, and was mainly covered by Will’s duvet.

Eventually Will broke the silence and said in a tight voice that Allie had never heard him use before. ‘Does my dad know?’

‘Weeelll…’ Allie almost asked him to define exactly what he meant by ‘know’, before deciding, on reflection, that the time to question semantics had long passed. ‘No, not really. I mean, he knows I’m using some of his stories as inspiration, but I don’t think he realises I’m using as much of their marriage as I actually am.’ Allie thought sadly of the half a manuscript she had sitting on her laptop and about how much of her heart, along with Martin and Angie’s love story, she had poured into it over the last few weeks. She knew it was different to any of the novels she had written before, more heartfelt, more heart-breaking in many ways. She had yet to reach the apex, the turnaround point, she was still in the darkness before the breaking of the dawn, and so Martin was still behaving like a jerk and misunderstanding the needs of Angie. And even though it was all rather sad at the moment, Allie already knew what was coming, she knew that Martin was about to embark on his grand redemptive journey, where he was going to turn things around, become the husband that Angie deserved. Allie almost started tearing up as she thought about it, crossing her fingers and hoping that her storytelling would do justice to Martin and Angie’s love story.

‘Will, tell me what you’re thinking.’ There was a note of desperation in her voice. ‘I know this is weird, I know I should have told you.’ She tugged at his hand, asking him to look at her.

‘Yes,’ he replied flatly, ‘it’s weird. I’m not sure how I feel about you … usingmydad…’ His voice petered out.

‘Because ofmydad?’ Allie said suddenly, remembering Jess’s accusation.

‘No. What do you mean?’

‘You think I’m using him as some kind of dad substitute because my dad is dead?’ Allie couldn’t help the defensive note that had crept into her voice.

‘Christ, no, Allie. Of course not. I never said that. I never eventhoughtthat.’

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