Page 4 of I Knew You Were Trouble

Wasanythinghe told me true? Was any aspect of our relationship real?

‘Bastard,’ Margot hisses, snapping me back to the present. She haphazardly gathers up the pages and shoves them into the envelope. ‘So, what do we do now?’ she asks.

‘What do you mean?’

She gets up and joins me on the sofa, sitting sideways and giving me a pointed look. ‘Imean,how are we going to get back at the prick?’

‘Wait,we?’ I ask, struggling to form a coherent thought.

‘Yes,we. I’m hardly letting you handle this alone.Bastard,’ she says again. ‘I never liked him.’

‘Wait, really?’ I ask, sitting up straighter.

‘Really. Too cagey. He would never answer a direct question – it was always a convoluted response. Major red flag.’

‘Hmm,’ I mutter, more pieces of the puzzle slotting into place. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘I am.Anyway, setting aside that he was never right for you?—’

‘I’m not really in the mood for “I told you so” right now,’ I interject.

‘Exactly, so setting that aside…’ she says, missing my point entirely, ‘we need a way to get back at him.’

‘I don’t know, Margot. This is all so fresh. I’ve barely got my mind around things. I’m not ready to start plotting revenge.’

I don’t mention that I’m not really a revenge sort of person – that’s more Margot’s domain. And if I don’t immediately quash her enthusiasm, she’ll have me logged on to the dark web looking for mercenaries before bedtime.

‘Besides,’ I say, ‘there’s something else that takes precedence over dealing with Jon.’

She blinks at me, confused. ‘What couldpossiblytake precedence over chopping Jon’s bollocks off?’

Margot has always had a rather graphic turn of phrase – more so since her divorce, a nasty, drawn-out affair that consolidated her hatred of (almost) all men. My dad is one of the few exceptions.

‘I’ve been asked to go to Amsterdam,’ I reply.

‘Amsterdam? For what?’

‘To help Willem. His sister – the other fiancée – she doesn’t believe I exist. She thinks Willem made me up to prise her away from Jon.’

‘You’re not serious,’ she says with a scoffing laugh.

‘I am serious. He’s asked me if I can go next weekend.’

‘Ifyou can go? Of course youcan, Kate, but you need to consider if youshould.’ She slowly shakes her head disbelievingly. ‘God, this is like something out of one of those books you’re always reading – the ones with the black covers.’

She means the domestic noirs I like to escape into – and she’s not entirely wrong. Thisislike the plot of a novel.

‘My Fiancé’s Fiancéecoming soon to a bookshop near you,’ she says in a deep voice. She chuckles at her own joke.

‘If you’re going to make fun, you can leave.’

Her laughter dies. ‘Sorry. But you have to admit, it’s…’ I glare at her and she abandons her point, reaching over and patting my arm instead. ‘I really am sorry, Kate. It’s a shitty, shitty thing he’s done, and I’m here for you no matter what, all right?’

It’s rare Margot shows her serious side, but of everyone in my life, she’s the person I can count on the most.

‘Thanks.’

‘Now, tell me more about the fit brother. Does hereallylook like Thor?’

---