‘I can’t believe we only met a few weeks ago.’ Oliver places his pint down on a table near the jukebox, which is only vacant because the table is tiny and squeezed into an awkward corner, and sits down on a wobbly stool, leaving the more comfortable backed chair for me to take. ‘Is it just me or does it feel like we’ve known each other for a lot longer?’
‘It isn’t just you.’ I sit down and take a sip of my wine. ‘I feel like I’ve known you forever.’
‘Good.’ Oliver smiles shyly. ‘I was afraid I was going to make an idiot of myself saying that, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody and just known I could trust them instantly. Especially after Lottie.’
Guilt gnaws at my insides, because Oliver’s trust is misplaced. I’ve been lying to him from the moment we met almost three weeks ago. It started as an accident but I let it continue. I reiterated the lie over and over again. I am not the person Oliver thinks I am. He’s put his trust in someone who is the amalgamation of Vanessa and me, someone who doesn’t really exist.
‘It was hardly instantaneous trust. You thought I was a Grade-A bitch at first, remember?’ I go to arch an eyebrow playfully but my heart isn’t in it.
‘I misjudged you.’ Oliver reaches across the table and takes my hands in his. ‘Sorry.’ His apology only makes me feel worse. ‘But I did think you were cute, even when you were yelling at me. Especially when you were yelling at me.’ Oliver winks at me, and I can’t help the flicker of a smile as he grins at me. ‘I was expecting some Miss Trunchbull type to turn up, so I was taken aback when I realised how gorgeous you are. I think that’s part of the reason I reacted so badly when you arrived. I was trying to mask how attracted to you I was.’
‘Then why did you push me away when I tried to kiss you?’ Too late, I realise I’m not supposed to remember that part of the evening. Oliver cottons on quickly, as evidenced by the bark of laughter.
‘What happened to your drink-induced amnesia?’
‘Shut up.’ I nudge him lightly under the table with my foot. ‘I was embarrassed that I’d made a pass at you, so I pretended I couldn’t remember what had happened. It was less humiliating that way.’
‘Vanessa.’ I flinch at Oliver’s use of my fake name. ‘There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. I didn’t push you away because I didn’t fancy you. Do you know how drunk you were that night?’
I cover my face with my hands. ‘Yes. Horribly so.’
Oliver peels my hands away. ‘That’s why I didn’t kiss you. It would have felt like I was taking advantage, and that isn’t me. But it’s different now …’ Oliver is moving towards me, and I know that this is where we’re supposed to share our first kiss, but this time it’s me that can’t let it happen.
‘It’s a bit crowded in here.’ I pull away, standing so abruptly my stool almost topples over. ‘Why don’t we grab a bottle of wine and go back to the guesthouse?’ I need to tell him the truth and I don’t think I can wait a week until the work on the house is finished. But I can’t do it here, packed into the corner of the pub like a sardine, where anyone could overhear my confession.
We thread our way across the pub and it’s a relief to make it out into the fresh air. Oliver lends me his jacket to stop me shivering, but it isn’t the cold that is making me tremble, and even Oliver’s hand in mine as we make our way across the village offers little comfort. I’m about to hit the self-destruct button and even though I’m terrified of the consequences, I know with absolute certainty that it’s the right thing to do.
Chapter 33
We reach the footbridge and I instinctively slow down, delaying the inevitable and stretching out this blissful time for as long as I possibly can. I like Oliver, and he likes me, and he was just about to kiss me. I must be mad, I think as we near the middle of the bridge and I look out across the canal. The view before me is so idyllic, with the yellow and magenta-coloured trees reflecting up at us from the water, and it conjures up feelings of romance and cosiness, of an existence far removed from the life I plod through back home. I’ve hijacked Vanessa’s life over the past few weeks and I have no choice but to give it all up. Oliver is going to find out one way or another; either I tell him, in my own words, or he makes the hideous discovery when the real Vanessa turns up.
‘We should go on a canal ride.’ I hadn’t realised I’d come to a complete standstill until Oliver joins me at the rail, his arm slipping around my waist as we look out across the water. ‘Maybe next weekend?’
I swallow hard and try to muster a smile. ‘That’d be nice, but I’m going home next weekend.’ And I doubt Oliver will want to be in such close proximity to me when he finds out that I’m an imposter. How would I feel if the shoe was on the other foot? If Oliver suddenly dropped into conversation that he isn’t in fact Oliver Rowe. That he isn’t a builder at all and has a completely different name, a different life to the one he’s projected for the past few weeks. Even though he’s essentially the same person, with just a few minor tweaks to his personality and backstory, could I brush it under the carpet and carry on regardless? Could I trust him ever again?
‘But you’ll be back.’ Oliver states this as a fact rather than a question. ‘For weekends and stuff.’
Vanessa will be, but I’ll be back in Manchester, reminiscing about those few weeks when I’d become somebody else and had the time of my life. When I’d found my voice and believed in myself. When I’d formed friendships and found the potential for … what? Romance? Love? Who knows because I’m about to pull the plug on whatever it is.
I don’t answer Oliver’s question because I don’t want to tell another lie. From now on, I’m going to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but, as I should have done from the very start.
‘Let’s get back to the guesthouse.’ My hand is in Oliver’s again and I move away from the rail. ‘I’m freezing.’
We make our way across the footbridge and onto Arthur’s Pass, our feet crunching across the gravel as we cross the drive.
‘What are you going to do with this place when you move into the main house?’
I step into the guesthouse and switch the lights on. It’d be cosier with the lamps but the stark brightness suits the situation, I think. I want everything to be clear and focused. No shadows. No room for doubt.
‘It’ll probably go up on Airbnb.’ This isn’t a fabrication as it was an idea floated by Vanessa herself.
‘Good idea.’ Oliver closes the door behind him and looks around the room. ‘It’s a great space.’
‘It really is.’ I take the bottle of wine we picked up from the mini market from Oliver and head towards the kitchen. I’m going to miss this guesthouse when I’m back home, avoiding dubious stains on the sofa and disposing of the little piles of toenail clippings Lee has left behind.
‘Shall I?’ Oliver has moved across the room to the stereo and is holding up the Britney album, which I’d been merrily singing along to in the bath only a matter of hours ago. I shake my head. I want to retain the happy memories of that Britney album, not taint it with what I’m about to do.
‘I’m not really in the mood for music.’ I grab a couple of glasses from the cupboard and open the wine, resisting the urge to glug it straight from the bottle. My heart is hammering so hard as I carry the drinks into the living room area, I’m surprised Oliver hasn’t commented on the din, but he’s blissfully unaware that anything is afoot as he accepts his glass and settles down on the sofa. Taking a huge gulp of wine, I join Oliver, shrugging off his jacket and draping it along the back of the sofa as he’ll need that in a minute or two as he no doubt makes a swift exit from the guesthouse.
‘I’ve had a really nice time tonight.’ Placing his glass on the coffee table, Oliver takes my hand in his and gives me a shy smile. I almost wince as the hammering in my chest ups its tempo to dangerous levels. I’m pretty sure he’s going to kiss me now, but I can’t let that happen, no matter how much I want him to. I want him to kiss Rebecca, not Vanessa, and he deserves to kno
w the truth before anything happens between us.
‘Oliver. Wait.’ He’s leaning in towards me but my hands are on his shoulders, preventing him from moving closer. It’s like a reversal of the time I tried to kiss Oliver and he stopped me because I was blind drunk. It would be quite funny if it wasn’t so tragic.
‘Sorry.’ Oliver sits bolt upright and twists away from me, his hand reaching for the glass of wine for a fortifying sip. ‘I thought … Never mind. Sorry.’
‘Stop saying sorry.’ I place my hand on Oliver’s arm. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’
Oliver shifts in his seat so he’s facing me again. ‘What for?’
My heart is now hammering so hard, it’s surely about to crack through my ribcage. I feel lightheaded, and I’m not sure if it’s due to my abnormal pulse or through sheer terror.
‘I need to tell you something.’ The glass is vibrating in my hand as I place it down on the coffee table.
‘What is it?’ I think Oliver is frowning at me as he asks the question but my vision has gone a bit hazy. This is it. Confession time. There’s no turning back. I open my mouth, though I’m not sure what I’m about to say. There are words buzzing around my head but they aren’t in any kind of coherent order.
‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you.’ I’m shocked when the words leaving my mouth are not only logical, they’re clear and precise and said without a hint of a wobble.
‘What do you mean?’
I don’t have the chance to answer as we’re interrupted by a hammering at the door that rivals my heartbeat for speed and volume. I’m not sure whether this is a blessing or not, but I jump out of my seat and rush to the door, more than happy to delay my declaration of deceits. Who knows, maybe it’s Vanessa herself, here to reveal my pack of lies on my behalf.
It isn’t Vanessa at the door. It’s Stacey, or someone who looks vaguely like the Stacey I know. This Stacey is wide-eyed with a puce-like hue as she barges past me. Her mouth is screwed up tight, her nostrils flared, and her fingers are curled into fists by her sides.
‘Everything okay, Stace?’ Oliver edges towards his sister, his hand outstretched. She flinches as he makes contact with her arm but she doesn’t pull away.
‘I found out who bought the land.’ Lifting a hand, one of her fingers unfurls until it is pointing directly at me, just inches from my face. ‘It was you.’ She turns to Oliver, her finger still aimed at my face, her anger making it quiver. ‘Vanessa bought the land, right from under our noses.’
Chapter 34
The room is almost silent, with just the ravaged breath of Stacey audible. She’s still pointing that finger at me like a dagger, still looking at Oliver and watching for his reaction to the news that I have betrayed them. But Oliver’s face is blank and I can only imagine the thoughts currently buzzing around his head. And none of them are good.
‘She. Did. It.’ Stacey spits the words, her finger jabbing so close to my face that I’m forced to take a step back to prevent an eye gouging. ‘She pretended to be our friend, when all the time she was plotting to snatch the land away from us. And what does she need it for anyway?’ Stacey finally removes her finger from the vicinity of my face so she can indicate the space around us. ‘She already has the big house and the land, why does she need more?’ She turns to me, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead as she directs the question at me.
‘I don’t know.’ It’s the honest answer. I have no idea why Vanessa has bought the land. She already has so much and, as far as I’m aware, she doesn’t have plans to expand.
‘She doesn’t know.’ Stacey gives a hoot, but she is no way delighted by my response. ‘She’s bought the land but doesn’t know why. Spite, maybe? Do you get your kicks from making people miserable?’ She places a hand on her forehead and shakes her head. ‘Nic was right about you all along. Why did I ever trust you?’
‘You don’t understand.’ I think about taking a step closer to Stacey but she’s absolutely furious and, quite frankly, I’m terrified of her right now. ‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you since I got here.’
‘Is this what you were about to tell me?’ Oliver points back towards the sofa, where just moments ago he was about to kiss me. His face is no longer blank. There is confusion there, with an undercurrent of anger.
‘No, because I didn’t know about the land then.’ Stacey gives another hoot, but I carry on. ‘But I was going to tell you the truth. About who I really am.’
‘Oh, we know who you really are.’ Stacey snarls the words at me and I find myself shrinking away, both physically and mentally. I shuffle backwards, edging towards the sofa, but the tiny distance I’m putting between us is irrelevant. I’m a little girl again, cornered and powerless and full of fear.
‘What is the truth, Vanessa?’ Oliver’s voice is soft, gentle, but I’m still afraid. I was so sure that telling him the truth was the right thing to do, but I never imagined it would happen like this. It was supposed to be on my terms.
‘Well?’ Stacey moves towards me, but Oliver holds out a hand, halting her progress.
‘Vanessa?’
I can’t look at him. I can’t look at either of them, so I make my confession to my hands, wringing in front of me in agitation.
‘I’m not Vanessa.’
My voice is low and raspy, barely a voice at all, and I’m not sure whether Stacey and Oliver have heard as silence ensues. So I say it again, lifting my chin and making the briefest of eye contact with Oliver before I repeat my confession.
‘I’m not Vanessa.’ My voice is stronger, even if there is still a slight tremor. ‘There was a mix up when I arrived. Vince misheard me and thought I was Vanessa. I should have corrected him, but I didn’t. I let him think I was her. I let you all think I was her.’ My chin drops again and I’m back to observing my hands, my fingers twisting and flexing wildly.
‘Then who are you?’ It’s Oliver who asks the question. I don’t dare look up to see the expression on his face, but if it matches his tone it will be a mixture of shock, disbelief and utter bewilderment.
‘I’m Rebecca Riley, Vanessa’s PA. She sent me here to take over Nicole’s role as project manager. A job I was totally unprepared for.’ I give a hollow laugh. ‘I have no experience of building or renovation. I’ve never even wallpapered a room. But none of that matters to Vanessa. If she wants something, she gets it, one way or another.’ I sneak a look at Oliver. There are lines furrowed deep into his forehead and his mouth is open as though he was about to say something but has lost the ability to form words.
‘So you’ve been pretending to be somebody else all this time?’ Stacey asks, and I sneak a glance at her. Most of the anger has seeped away from her features, but she doesn’t look happy.
‘Yes. I took Vanessa’s name and her influence to get the job done.’
‘But why?’
I back away further and sink onto the sofa, relieved that my jellied legs no longer have to hold me upright. ‘Because I’m nothing like Vanessa. I have no authority. I don’t have the ability to sway people, to get them to do my bidding. I have no leadership skills. If the real me was left in charge, we’d still be laying the flooring three weeks down the line.’ I give a slow shrug and manage to hold eye contact with Stacey for more than a few seconds. ‘And I needed this job to go well. To prove myself to Vanessa.’
‘But to hell with the rest of us, yeah?’
‘No, it wasn’t like that.’ I shake my head, my eyes focused on Stacey and pleading with her to believe me. ‘I didn’t know I was going to form friendships here. I was supposed to just show up, get the job done and go home again. But by the time we became friends, it was too late. Everyone thought I was Vanessa. I couldn’t just reintroduce myself.’
‘Tell the truth, you mean?’
I sigh and look down at my hands. They’re still fidgety but I’m no longer in danger of dislocating a digit. ‘Yes, I guess so. But I was going to tell the truth. Just now.’ I look at Oliver for c
onfirmation, but he’s still suspended in his baffled state. ‘And I swear I had nothing to do with Vanessa buying the land. I had no idea she was planning to bid on it. She never mentioned it when we were talking about the auction a couple of weeks ago. She never even knew about the auction until I brought it up.’ My words peter out and my hand claps over my mouth. I told Vanessa about the land between the properties. I told her about the auction. She didn’t have a clue about it until I opened my big gob!
This is all my fault.
‘Great. Thanks for giving her the head’s up.’ Stacey gives me one last look of contempt before she turns and walks out of the door. Oliver finally comes back to life, giving his head a little shake before he snatches his jacket from the back of the sofa and strides after his sister. I watch him reach the door, wanting to call out for him to stop, but I’m unable to form any words or movements. He stops before he crosses the threshold, turning slowly towards me.
‘I trusted you. Confided in you about things I’ve never told anybody.’ He peers out of the door, in case his sister is still lurking, but Stacey is long gone. ‘Has everything you’ve said been a lie?’
It breaks my heart that he would think that, but I can hardly blame him.
‘No, it hasn’t all been a lie. I lied about my name, but I’ve still been me.’
The Accidental Life Swap Page 21