The First Mistake(91)
Beth looks down into her lap and wipes away the tear that is threatening to fall. ‘By blackmailing him.’
Alice lets out a derisory laugh. ‘With what?’
‘I had hoped that making him look like he was having an affair would do the trick. That by the time he found out it was me, he’d be so close to losing you that he’d do anything to make me stop.’
‘So, the texts . . .?’ starts Alice.
Beth nods. ‘And all the other things . . . the hotel bill, the earring, the flowers, the tyres . . .’
‘That was all you?’ asks Alice, disbelievingly. ‘But why? Why would you do that to us? To me?’
‘Because I hated you for having the life that I was supposed to be having. You had it all . . . the perfect job, the perfect children, supposedly the perfect husband . . . I just wanted you to hurt as much as I had been hurt. But I went too far. Olivia didn’t deserve to be brought into this.’
Alice cocks her head to one side as a new fire sparks within her. She’ll take whatever Beth throws at her, but not if she’s going to bring her children into it. They’re off limits.
‘Olivia?’ she questions.
Beth looks anywhere but at Alice. ‘I made a formal complaint to the school about her,’ she says quietly.
‘Oh my God!’ Alice exclaims.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Beth, barely audible.
Alice goes to get out of the car before Beth leans across and grapples with the door.
‘Please – wait,’ she says.
Alice leans her head back resignedly onto the headrest and closes her eyes.
‘So what is Nathan going to do now?’ she asks. ‘Now that he knows it’s you.’
‘He’s told me he’ll have the money ready by tomorrow.’
Alice laughs sarcastically. ‘We’ll have less money then than we’ve got now. Japan completes this afternoon.’
‘Are you still going ahead with that? After everything I’ve told you?’
‘Doing the Japan deal isn’t dependent on Nathan,’ says Alice, matter-of-factly. ‘It depends on me – whether I want to do it or not – and right now, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. In fact, what you’ve said only makes me want to do it more.’
‘Is Nathan doing it with you?’ asks Beth.
‘Financially, you mean?’
Beth nods.
‘No, this is all on me – I’ve taken a loan out for it.’
‘Good,’ says Beth. ‘Don’t let him anywhere near it.’
‘And what are you going to do?’ asks Alice. ‘Now that I know everything. Now that you can no longer blackmail him.’
Beth turns to look at her imploringly. ‘Don’t tell him, Alice.’
‘What?’ she says, exasperated. ‘After everything you’ve done, you honestly expect me to do you a favour?’
‘Please,’ begs Beth.
‘What if everything you’ve told me is a lie?’ says Alice, looking directly at Beth for the first time. ‘What if you’ve made this all up? And even if you haven’t, why should I do anything you say? Look at what you’ve done to me, to my family. Right now, Nathan doesn’t look like he’s actually done anything wrong, at least not by me. So why would I show you loyalty over him?’
‘Because he pretended to be your dead husband,’ blurts out Beth, stopping Alice in her tracks. ‘Please – if for no other reason – do it for that.’
Alice feels a jolt. Tom.
‘So, Nathan told you that his name was Thomas Evans?’
Beth nods. ‘Born on twenty-first of May, 1976.’
‘So regardless, you’ve known for ages that your Thomas and my Tom were two entirely different people. Yet you still implied that he was one and the same person.’
‘Yes,’ whispers Beth.
‘So . . . so you never actually knew my Tom?’ Alice asks tentatively. ‘Your Thomas Evans was Nathan.’
Beth nods.
A rush of relief floods through Alice, reigniting every tiny flame that she’d bequeathed to Tom over the past ten years. ‘So Tom was the man I thought he was?’ she asks, with tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘He was never the man you made me think he was.’
‘No.’
Alice lambasts herself for ever believing otherwise. She knew her Tom hadn’t been capable of what Beth was accusing him of. She steels herself before asking the next question, unsure of the answer she wants to hear, unsure of what her best friend is truly capable of.
‘He’s on Facebook . . .’ she starts. ‘My Tom is on Facebook living a new life . . .’ She can’t bear to look at Beth, knowing that her expression will tell her all she needs to know.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Beth chokes. ‘I wanted you to think that he might still be out there. That he’d left you because he wanted to. Just like Nathan had left me.’
Alice closes her eyes tightly, willing her heart not to break all over again. ‘But the photos?’
‘Surprisingly easy,’ says Beth quietly. ‘They’re all on your phone, and how often have you left it on a pub table whilst you went to the bar, or given it to me to hold whilst you were in the toilet? The picture of the other woman and child was a random photo from the internet.’