Page 122 of I Knew You Were Trouble

We greet each other nervously – I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s anxious – then Poppy, who’s the calm in the eye of this storm, says, ‘Let’s go up.’

The ride in the lift and the walk along the carpeted hallway is silent as we collectively fizz with anticipation – and a large serving of trepidation. Poppy leads us into the suite and as expected, it’s spacious and luxurious.

This is really happening.Breathe, Kate, breathe, I remind myself.

‘I thought I could stand here when he comes in,’ says Poppy, indicating a spot right in the line of sight from the door. ‘And you three could be over there.’ She points to a sofa. Silently, we cross to it and sit with me in the middle.

‘I haven’t been this nervous since taking my final exams to be a teacher,’ says Adriana.

‘For me, it’s since my first exhibit,’ says Lucia.

‘I’m glad it’s not just me,’ I offer in solidarity.

‘God, no,’ says Lucia with a laugh, and Adriana agrees.

‘Ah, ladies,’ says Poppy. We all look up. ‘He’ll be here soon.’

‘Ady and I were talking,’ Lucia says to me, ‘and we’ll follow your lead.’

‘All right,’ I agree.

We haven’t discussed this previously, but it makes sense. I was the first fiancée, after all.

We make forgettable small talk as the minutes tick over and my nerves ratchet up. Inevitably, the beep of the keycard sounds, silencing us immediately, and the door swings open. Poppy dons a neutral expression, her eyes fixed on Jon as he sweeps into the room, his overbearing cologne instantly permeating the air.

If I didn’t know Jon – and I wasn’t repulsed by the sight of him – I might say he looks good. He’s dressed in a lightweight suit, one that will have cost several thousand pounds on Saville Row, and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

‘Darling!’ he declares, crossing to Poppy. She steps aside, dodging the incoming embrace, and his features morph into confusion.

Eyes laser-focused on Jon, I grope for Adriana and Lucia’s hands either side of me, clasping them tightly. And as though we rehearsed it, we stand in unison then drop hands.

‘Hello,Jon,’ I say, drenching his name in rancour.

He turns abruptly, his shock so extreme as his eyes dart between us, it would be comical if I didn’t want to cut his bollocks off – metaphorically speaking, that is.

‘Wha— I don’t— I can’t—’ he stammers. His eyes bug out and his mouth gapes then closes without making any sound. He’s like a well-groomed goldfish.

His gaze swings back to Poppy. ‘Penny?’ he asks, clearly confounded.

This is when I should start speaking, but my mind has gone blank and my mouth bone-dry.

‘I’m not Penny Mullings,’ Poppy says coolly. ‘She doesn’t exist.’

He recoils in shock, then breaks into incredulous laughter. When he looks at us to share the joke, his ridiculous smile falls away the instant he sees we’re not laughing with him.

‘Sit. Down,’ I say firmly, finally finding my voice.

‘Sorry?’

‘I said,sit. Over there will do,’ I say, pointing at a low wing-back chair.

He hesitates, obviously perplexed, then ever so slowly edges towards the chair, watching me warily, as if I’m a lioness who might gobble him up if he makes a sudden move.

He sits, sinking into the chair. I couldn’t have planned it any better, him now peering up at us like a little boy. Adriana moves first, skirting around the coffee table and standing over him, her arms folded and glowering. I follow and so does Lucia, who slots in beside me.

‘Obviously, we three have met,’ I say to him. ‘And you can imagine our surprise, discovering that the other two existed, that you were involved in love affairs with three different women in three different countries.’

He goes to speak, but I silence him with, ‘No, I’m still speaking.’

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