His Other Life

by Beth Thomas

  ‘It was all coincidence?’

  ‘No, it was not coincidence. Jesus. It was the brilliant manipulation of circumstances. Getting married? Who could have thought of that? I did! I thought of that. It was perfect, until Leon somehow discovered my new identity. I’ve been gone for over three years, he was never going to find me.’ He pauses and thinks for a moment. ‘Except he did. So then Adam Littleton disappears too. Just walks out of his own life. A few days later, the car is discovered in some random remote little village miles from anywhere, stripped clean of any clues, and the next thing he hears is that I’m on a plane to South America, boom! He doesn’t bother looking for Ryan Moorfield any more. It was a stroke of genius, that’s what it was.’ He cocks his head as he turns back to us. ‘Everybody wins.’

  ‘Wow,’ Matt says. ‘That really is clever. And so impressive. In fact, I’m amazed this Leon was able to find you at all, you know, with you being so clever and all. And not only find you, but your wife and her real name and mobile number too.’ He blows air through puffed cheeks. ‘How on earth did he do it?’

  There’s an extended pause, during which I imagine that Adam – Ryan – is seething with impotent rage. ‘Well obviously he had contacts somewhere,’ he says eventually. ‘If you don’t mind paying, there’s always someone who’ll take a bribe – at the phone company, the council, marriage registry. It’s not that difficult.’

  ‘Probably quite easy, in fact …’

  ‘No,’ Ryan interrupts quickly, ‘not easy. I was really well hidden. It took Leon three solid years of relentless, dogged pursuit to track me down.’

  ‘And yet we found your address in Didcot after one day of looking.’

  ‘Yes, but you obviously had the stuff from the safe, didn’t you? Leon didn’t.’

  ‘Ah,’ Matt says, as if he’s just fathomed something out. ‘So when you saw us at your front door earlier, you must have known that we’d found the safe? And opened it? And got your address details?’

  ‘Well yes, obviously.’

  ‘So in that case, why did you make up that frankly ridiculous and unbelievable story of being your own twin brother? I mean, we’d found you. What was the point?’

  ‘Oh, because of her,’ he says, kind of tiredly.

  ‘You mean Grace?’ Matt corrects. ‘Your wife.’

  ‘Grace, yes. I realised that, against all odds, she must have found the key, and the safe, and got the address. But, you know, there was still a chance she wouldn’t add everything up and work it all out.’ He pauses briefly. ‘A fairly good chance, actually.’

  There’s a loud tut, presumably from Matt. ‘You talk about her as if she’s stupid,’ he says. ‘She really isn’t.’

  ‘Potato, potato,’ Ryan says. ‘Either she was stupid to be taken in so completely, or I was just brilliant. You can’t have it both ways.’

  They lapse into silence and there’s no sound for a while. Apart from the clock ticking. That one sound I am aware of. And then gradually other sounds fade back in – a car on the road outside, a far-off child shouting, a lawnmower. I start to notice that I’m standing. I feel my feet on the floor again and I’m aware of my own body, like I’m coming back into it, waking up from a long sleep. I look around me and see Matt staring wordlessly at Ryan, who is still lolling in the armchair.

  ‘What about me?’ My voice is so small and quiet, I’m not sure anyone’s heard me. I’m not even sure they’re aware I’m still here. I feel invisible.

  But Matt turns, then Ryan does to see why Matt is turning. ‘What?’ Ryan says, at the same time as Matt says, ‘Sorry, Grace?’

  ‘I said, what about me? My marriage? Am I still married? Well, no, I don’t mean that, obviously I’m not because you’re not …’ I wave my hand in Ryan’s direction. ‘But what I mean is, was I ever married?’ I stare at Ryan unwaveringly. ‘Was it ever real?’

  He stares back. For a second we’re locked together, eye to eye, each challenging the other to back down. But I don’t look away. All my instincts are screaming for me to drop my gaze, to submit, but for the first time since I’ve known him, I don’t. I’m stronger now, I’m not the weak, pliable girl he selected all that time ago. I won’t be. He has changed me and I feel stronger and more determined with every second that passes.

  And finally, after what feels like a century, he drops his eyes; and I start to smile.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Matt asks later in the car. We’re on our way back to Mum and Dad’s. I want to put my PJs on and drink hot chocolate with my mum in my dressing gown. Plus it’s time I told them everything. Ryan, Ray and Julia are either on a plane to Ecuador by now, or in custody, but I don’t care which. If they got away, I will never have to see any of them again.

  Ray returned from wherever he’d sped off to just as Matt and I were leaving, and realised instantly that all the cats were out of their various bags. And right there in front of me he transformed from a bumbling old sweetheart into someone so ruthless and driven, he literally swept me aside with his arm.

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ he said, charging across the room. ‘You two idiots have put us all at risk.’

  ‘They found me,’ Ryan says lethargically.

  ‘Not those two,’ Ray shouts from the stairs, ‘you two.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You didn’t have to fucking blab about everything did you?! Now get your stuff together, you stupid fuckwit. And be quick. We’re leaving in half an hour.’

  Matt and I crept out and Matt rang his colleagues from the car to alert them to Ryan’s imminent flit. His marriage to me, all his business affairs, his accounts and tax returns, everything will have to be looked into, as it was all fake and therefore fraudulent. Ray will have to be investigated too, his involvement worked out. I don’t really care what happens after that.

  Now, I look across at Matt’s big hands on the steering wheel, guiding it effortlessly around corners or keeping it straight, and think about what he’s just asked me. Am I OK? Mentally, I check myself all over, as if I’m just emerging from a traumatic experience. But then, my husband was missing, then in South America, then not missing, and now not even my husband. That’s quite traumatic, really. And after all that, I wasn’t even married. I’m right back where I was before I met him. Only better. Grace, Version two point oh. I’m a bit battered, a bit bruised, but like the skateboarder who falls, and falls, and falls, and then doesn’t, I have learned a lot. I nod. ‘You know what? I think I am. Yes.’

  Matt grins and looks at me quickly. ‘Great.’

  ‘I’ve never been someone’s disguise before.’

  He shrugs. ‘It ain’t all that.’

  Which makes me giggle. ‘No, you’re right. Don’t think I’ll bother again. Weird though, that Ryan thought he was my disguise too. What on earth do you think he meant by that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe just deluding himself that the arrangement was reciprocal, to ease his own conscience.’

  I nod. ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  But I know that’s not right. Ryan Moorfield doesn’t strike me as someone with a conscience. The way he can dismiss the death of an unborn baby, exonerate himself in his own mind. The way he could use me, delude me, then drop me when I was no longer any use. Those aren’t the actions of someone with morals. So what did he mean, he was my disguise? I can’t make it out.

  ‘So what happens now?’ I ask Matt. ‘I suppose I should ring Linda Patterson, let her know my husband’s not missing any more.’ I catch myself. ‘Never was a husband. Huh. Never was a wife.’

  ‘It’s OK, I’ve asked that she be notified,’ he says. ‘They’ll need a statement off you at some point. Ryan is bravely overlooking the fact that fraud is against the law.’ He glances at me. ‘This is probably going to go on a long time.’

  ‘Oh God.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he says gently. ‘I’ll help.’

  I look at him and feel an explosion of affection for him. ‘Will you?’

  ‘Course I will, Gracie.
No problem at all.’

  ‘Oh Matt. Thank you. I really appreciate that.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ He lightly touches my hand on my lap. ‘I mean that, you know. It’s a pleasure to help you. It’s a pleasure to be around you. I want to keep doing it.’

  ‘Helping me?’

  ‘Being around you. Whatever you happen to be doing. And if that means helping you in any way I can, then that too. Police reports, witness statements, lifts to the station, court appearances. All the standard coupley things.’

  I feel rebuffed for some reason and experience a stab of disappointment. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Moving house.’ He looks across at me. ‘Making dinner.’ My disappointment melts away as his voice lowers. ‘Foot rubs. Cups of tea. Shopping trips.’ He gazes at me from lowered lids. ‘DIY.’

  ‘DIY?’ I give a little shiver. ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes. I know how to treat a lady.’

  ‘I think you do. I mean, police reports have never sounded more fun.’

  He chuckles. ‘I know, right? I can’t wait to do all those things with you.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  He drops me off at Mum’s and I stand at the kerb and watch the car dwindle slowly away. But it’s OK. I’m a hundred percent sure he’s coming back. He’s got to, he’s going to have to give a statement.

  For the next two hours, someone standing outside our house with their ear pressed to the kitchen window will hear various exclamations from my mum, like ‘A safe? In the floor?’ and ‘Thirteen thousand pounds?!’ and some from my dad, which are calmer and less scandalised, and focus more on processing and understanding fully. ‘Linton?’ he says, nodding interestedly. A short while later, ‘Didcot?’ I can hear him thinking M25, M4, leave early, miss the rush. Later on, when Lauren and Robbie come home, Mum recounts the whole thing again, and the exclamations are all repeated. Except Mum embellishes it a bit, to make it more interesting. Personally I don’t think she needs to add details about Leon’s previous criminal history. The diamond smuggling story is certainly a bit much. But they all enjoy it, so I leave them to it.

  Much later, when everyone has hugged me and they’re all finally happy that I’m stable and not about to start hacking clothes to pieces with a steak knife, I retreat up to my room like a moody sixteen-year-old. I fling myself down onto the bed and let myself think about nothing.

  Tomorrow I’ll go back to work and start flat hunting. Tomorrow I will restart my adult life. But for now I’m staying a child just a little bit longer. People go through all sorts of things to achieve this: mid-life crises, divorces, negative equity. I’ve simply had it handed to me. OK, I did have to go through a fair bit to get here, but let’s not be negative about this. How many people get to rewind back to their parents’ house and start again, just like that? No fallout, no baggage. I stretch out luxuriously on the bed, reaching my arms above my head, and feel exactly like I did when I was sixteen doing this. No worries, no problems, no bills, no responsibilities, just excited about a boy who likes me, and the endless possibilities stretching out ahead of me.

  All right, maybe that’s not exactly how I felt when I was sixteen. Much more moody and stressing about Geography homework and zits.

  But in principle it’s the same. I’m going to enjoy my freedom this time round, and nothing is going to prise me out of it.

  And lying there, I start to understand what Ryan meant about being a disguise for me. I had made my first foray into the adult world – leaving home, getting my own place, getting married – but I wasn’t really ready for it. Maybe I knew that, when I allowed myself to be persuaded away from the flat I really wanted into the one Ryan wanted me to have. It was low maintenance, it was new, it was easy. Then I moved in with him, and married him, and watched his films and ate his food. But as much as I was simply an attachment to him, like an upgrade, to improve his status, so he was for me. We weren’t connected to each other like two people in love; we each just thought the addition of a spouse was a necessary step to take at that stage of our lives. Ryan helped me disguise myself as an adult, when I was still hiding the child underneath.

  Suddenly my bedroom door bursts open, and standing there silhouetted in the light from the landing, legs planted wide, hands hovering near the pistols at her sides, is Lara Croft. She’s breathing hard, her chest rising and falling with it, as if she’s just escaped from a tiger.

  ‘What the fuck?!’ she asks, striding into the room.

  ‘Oh Ginge!’ I jump off the bed and run across to her for a comforting hug. ‘It’s so good to see you.’ I step back and take in the costume. ‘This looks amazing!’

  ‘Never mind that,’ she says, leading me to the bed and sitting down. ‘Matt rang me. What the hell is going on?’

  So I recount the whole thing to her – the safe contents, Linton, Didcot, Ecuador – and she gasps and sympathises and strokes my arm affectionately.

  ‘So you were never married? And the house is gone? And you’re back in your parents’ place?’

  I nod. ‘I’ve gone back to “Start”. Now I just need to roll a six.’

  She shrugs. ‘That’s not such a bad thing, is it?’

  ‘No, it really isn’t. It’s funny, I’m feeling so positive about everything. Even though this terrible thing has just happened to me.’

  ‘And what about Matt?’

  Even the mention of his name makes my tummy clench a bit. ‘What about him?’

  She looks at me steadily. ‘He really likes you.’

  That makes me grin like a loon. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Oh em eff gee, Grace, what’s the matter with you? He’s liked you for years.’

  ‘Has he?’

  She leans forward and raps on my forehead with her knuckles. ‘Hello? Anybody in there? Of course he has, you numpty. Since we were teenagers. Why do you think he was always following us around everywhere?’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell me? I mean, at some point over the past decade there must have been an opportunity?’

  ‘He asked me not to. Told me not to. Demanded that I didn’t. He knew you weren’t really even aware of him, and in his emo state he would have probably killed himself – and then me – if I’d let on. Then, of course, you met Adam …’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah, not the most observant person in the world, are you?’

  I shake my head with a smile. ‘I’m, like, the opposite of that.’

  ‘You are.’ She gives me another hug. ‘But I love ya.’ She stands up.

  ‘Are you going?’

  ‘Yeah. Fletch is waiting for me at his place.’ She glances down at the costume. ‘He really likes this one, so …’

  ‘Eeew, I did not want to know that.’

  Ginge giggles. ‘It’s the only perk of this ridiculous job!’

  I walk her to the door and she kisses my cheek as she’s leaving. She’s never ever done that before. Seems quite grown up. I like it.

  Back in my room, I go back to sprawling pointlessly on the bed, thinking about stuff. How odd, how lucky for me, that I got to try out married life with someone who turned out to be the wrong one, and I have no baggage because of it. The only thing I need to sort out is changing my name back on all my bank cards, and cancelling the standing order into our joint bills account. We never fully combined our resources. Adam – no, Ryan – was quite vocal about that.

  ‘What’s the point of me buying presents for you out of joint money?’ he’d said. ‘You might as well have bought it for yourself.’ It occurred to me at the time that it was more about the thought behind the gift rather than how much it cost, but I didn’t say so. I kept quiet and complied and did exactly what he wanted.

  My mobile rings and as I roll onto my side to answer it, I resolve never to be told what to do by anyone ever again.

  ‘Get downstairs,’ Matt says, a smile in his voice.

  ‘Ah, Matt, I’ve been downstairs. I’m upstairs now.’
>
  ‘But I’m downstairs.’

  I sit up. ‘You’re here? Are you inside?’

  ‘Not yet. Come down, I have a surprise for you.’

  I go to the window and peer out and I can see his car there but there’s no sign of him. He must be at the front door, so I go out of my room and trot downstairs. As I come into view of the hallway, I can see a dark shape through the glass of the door, and I find myself grinning automatically. Too late I wish I’d checked my hair before appearing in front of him but he’s seen me moments after I thought I’d become a widow, so now I’m a teenager again, it must be an improvement.

  I open the door and he’s standing there with his hands behind his back. ‘Hi,’ he says, grinning.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘You look lovely.’

  Gorgeous butterflies hatch in their thousands in my belly, and my face starts to go hot. ‘Thanks, but I’m the same as three hours ago when you last saw me.’

  ‘You looked lovely then, too.’

  I grin. ‘Thanks. Do you want to come in?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘I want you to come out.’

  ‘Oh. OK.’ I step outside and pull the door closed behind me. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Nowhere. Well, let’s just stroll a little away from the house.’

  ‘OK. So what’s my surprise?’

  He stops and turns to me. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘No! How can I be? It’s a surprise, it’s in their very nature that people aren’t ready for them!’

  He nods. ‘OK, yes, good point. Well, all right then. Here we go.’ And he brings his hands around from his back and holds them out towards me, saying ‘Ta-da!’ And for one hideous moment I think he’s going to propose to me, and I’d have to say no which would probably mean the end of any possible relationship with him. But I’ve only just been un-married, I can’t get married again, for the first time, straight away. Plus I’m only sixteen at the moment. It would be stupid.

  But it’s only a split second and then I notice what he’s holding out, and it looks like a tiny bouquet of flowers, the way he’s presenting it, but it isn’t, it’s better than that. He’s holding out two Cornettos. Mint ones. And as I look at them, and the simplicity of this gesture and the complexity of affection and thought that’s behind it, I know that this is the way it should be. And I know I’ve thrown my six.