I had a sudden sense of alarm. Had I miscalculated? Did anybody know that Johnny knew me? Did David?

‘Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it.’

Johnny frowned at me. ‘I don’t understand this and neither do I like it. Not one bit. You found the body. What’s the problem with talking to the police about it? Don’t you want to help them? And why are you so difficult to track down? Is there anything you want to tell me?’

It may have been the memory of Frances’s body in my arms or the wine or the sheer tiredness, but I couldn’t spin any more lies, not just then. But I took a deep breath before I spoke, because I felt I was stepping out into a different sort of world and I was scared. My skin was cold with fear.

‘I’m not Gwen,’ I said.

‘I don’t understand. What does that mean, you’re not Gwen?’

‘It means that my name isn’t Gwen. There is a Gwen Abbott. She’s a friend of mind. I borrowed her name. Stole it.’

‘I…’ He stopped, his mouth hanging open as he stared at me.

‘My real name is Eleanor. Eleanor Falkner.’

‘You mean you were lying?’ he said. ‘All the time?’

‘Yes.’

‘So when we were in bed together and I called you Gwen and you just… I don’t know what to say.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It got out of hand.’

Johnny gave a horrible laugh. ‘Got out of hand?’

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

He sat down heavily and some of his wine splashed on to the sofa. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You’ll want to put salt on that.’

‘It’s a crappy old sofa.’

‘So, Eleanor.’ Johnny said my name as if it was one he’d never heard before, from a different language, hard to pronounce. ‘Why did you do this? Or should I just call the police?’

I thought for a moment and then I went and sat beside him on the sofa. I told him he could call the police if he wanted, but first… And then I told him everything I could, not like a proper story but in a mess of fragments, all out of order, with additions and little explanations. I told him about Greg. I even fetched the picture of the two of us together. Johnny had seen me naked, slept with me, but now I felt even more naked, even more exposed to him. I told him about my connection to Milena. At first he asked questions, but as I continued he became quieter, his expression darker. When I finished he was silent for a long time.

‘I don’t even know where to start,’ he said. ‘How could you do such a thing? How could you lie to so many people?’

‘I didn’t plan it,’ I said. ‘Really I just wanted to see where Milena worked. I got invited in and it developed a momentum of its own.’

‘Just to take one example, almost entirely at random, you used me to get the password so that you could read Milena’s secret mail, things she wanted nobody to see.’

‘I didn’t plan things. I didn’t plan us. But she died with my husband. I needed to know everything I could.’

‘So I was just a step on that road,’ said Johnny. ‘Something a bit like Milena’s password.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t like that at all. I wasn’t using you. It was something that happened and I didn’t stop it happening – I still don’t know why.’

He looked at me with a sharper expression. ‘So it meant something to you?’ he said. ‘It wasn’t just to find out about Milena.’

‘No! But it was wrong all the same. I was so hurt and so confused and I should never have slept with you. It wasn’t fair.’

‘But you did. And now someone has been killed.’

‘Yes.’

‘Perhaps because you came and stirred things up.’

‘I’ve thought of that.’

Johnny put the glass down and then put his hands on my face, ran them down to my neck. I willed myself to stay entirely still, although my skin was crawling with dread. ‘So who do you think killed her?’ he said at last.

‘I don’t know.’

‘What if it was me?’

‘Was it?’ I asked.

He raised his right hand from my neck and slapped me across the face so hard that tears came to my eyes. I didn’t speak.

‘That’s for lying to me,’ he said. He got up.

‘Wait,’ I said, as he turned to go. ‘I need to show you something.’

‘What?’

I went over to the little chest, opened the drawer and drew out the menu card. Without saying anything I passed it to him and he stared at it.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said eventually. ‘Why the fuck have you got this?’

‘It was found among Greg’s possessions. It was what made me believe he was having an affair with Milena. It even has the date on it. But then you said something that made me realize you were with her on the twelfth of September.’

‘But this is mine.’

‘What do you mean, yours?’

‘She sent it to me.’

‘She can’t have done.’

‘You think I wouldn’t remember?’

‘But it’s to “Darling G”.’

He examined it for a few seconds. ‘No. That’s just a continuation of the J – you can even see the join if you look closely.’

‘How come it was in Greg’s stuff,’ I asked weakly, ‘if she sent it to you?’

‘I sent it back. I sent everything that had ever belonged to her back when she finished it – marched round to her house and dumped it in her lap.’

‘So it was in her possession, not yours.’

‘I thought she’d just burn it or something.’

I rubbed my face, trying to concentrate. ‘How did it get from her house to here?’

Johnny shrugged. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’

‘Maybe it was Frances all the time,’ I said drearily.

‘What the fuck are you on about now?’

‘Frances was having an affair too,’ I said. ‘I thought maybe -’

‘I don’t want to hear what you thought about Frances,’ he said angrily. ‘She’s dead. Killed by some maniac. Let her alone, do you hear me? You’ve done enough. She was a good woman. Now leave her in peace.’

‘Are you going to call the police?’ I said.

‘I think that’s for you to do, don’t you?’ he said. ‘At the moment they’re curious. Soon they’ll be suspicious. Don’t leave it too long. Or I’ll make up your mind for you.’

As soon as he was gone, I rang Gwen. I didn’t even say hello. ‘Have the police been in touch with you?’ I asked.

‘Ellie? Yes, some policeman rang me. How on earth did you know?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

Chapter Twenty-five

‘You’re kidding me.’ Gwen was staring at me across the kitchen table. She’d been running her fingers through her hair as I talked so now it stood up in small blonde tufts. She looked bewildered and accusing all at once. Her eyes were owlishly round.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘I think I’d better have that drink, after all.’

‘Red or white?’

‘Whisky?’

‘Whisky it is.’

‘So all this time…’

‘Yes.’

‘And you said you were -’

‘You. Yes.’ I poured her a large whisky, neat and ice-less. She took a deep gulp; her eyes watered. I poured another for myself and let it burn a trail down my throat.

‘And you got away with it?’

‘Yes. Until now.’

‘And now, this woman, Frances…’

‘Has been murdered.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck fuck fuck.’

‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

‘I don’t know. What should I be saying?’

‘You could scream at me. Don’t you feel angry?’

‘Angry?’ She considered, swilling her whisky in the glass, then taking another vast swallow so that I could see her throat jumping. The drink was nearly gone already.

‘Because I pretended to be you, because I lied to you about what I was up to, because I didn’t confide in you, because I’ve been so stupid, because -’

‘OK, OK, I get it. Here, give me another of these.’ She held out her glass. ‘Angry’s not the right word, Ellie. I can’t get my head round it. You’ve been using my name, infiltrating this poor woman’s business, breaking into computers, like some sort of spy, to find out – what?’