Deception Wears Many Faces: a stunning psychological drama that will keep you turning the pages

by Maggie James

‘I’m over it now. Although the break-up hit me hard.’

  ‘You loved her?’

  He shook his head. ‘We weren’t together long enough for that. Just a couple of months, but I could easily have fallen for her. Partly due to her pretty face, but also because she seemed so fragile. A combination guaranteed to bring out my protective instincts.’ He laughed. ‘I told myself I’d shield her from everything bad in the world.’

  ‘What went wrong?’

  He swallowed. ‘She dumped me. After telling me I was a useless boyfriend, how she wished she’d never met me. She only wanted me for one thing, you see.’

  I was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She was a gold digger. All she was after was money.’ His voice shook a little.

  Scott drained his coffee, setting the mug on the floor. ‘Her business was in trouble. She sold stuff online, but wasn’t getting enough sales, so she opened a shop in the Galleries. Her rent was astronomical, way beyond what she could afford. She’d run up debts with her website designer, her suppliers and her landlord but couldn’t pay them. When she asked me for a loan, it was more of a demand. I refused - I didn’t have any cash to spare - so she turned nasty. Broke off our relationship.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s water under the bridge now. This all happened six months ago. When I met you, though, all the hurt resurfaced.’

  ‘You can relax. I’ve no intention of asking you for money.’

  ‘Thank God. I can put Ellie behind me at last.’

  The name caught me on the hop. The facts didn’t fit, however. Ellie sold stuff online, but she’d never rented a shop in the Galleries. What’s more, Steven Simmons had been her first boyfriend. As far as I knew, she’d not dated anyone before him.

  I had to be sure, though. ‘Did you meet her through a dating website?’

  ‘Yes. Not Premier, though. Soulmate Search, it was called.’

  A finger of fear slid up my spine. Please God, no. ‘That’s a coincidence,’ I managed. ‘I know an Ellie who used that site. Wouldn’t it be weird if it was the same person?’ My laugh sounded forced.

  ‘What’s your friend’s surname? My ex was called Ellie Hunter.’

  My world shattered, along with the happiness I’d felt earlier. Unaware of the devastation he’d caused, Scott collected our mugs off the floor. ‘I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee,’ he announced, disappearing into the kitchen. All the while I struggled to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Scott hadn’t just said he’d dated my sister, had he? Who, it seemed, had lied to me. About her business, her past boyfriends, maybe more.

  As for Scott, he deserved the truth. I still had to figure out a way to reveal my real identity. This, though? I had to tell him.

  When he returned bearing fresh coffees, I dived in before my courage could call quits on me. ‘Looks like we know the same Ellie Hunter.’

  Surprise spread through his expression. He handed me a mug then sat beside me. ‘Wow. I never expected that. Small world, hey?’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘Ellie isn’t my friend,’ I said. ‘She’s my sister.’

  Disbelief morphed into shock in Scott’s face. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘There must be some mistake.’

  ‘What did your ex-girlfriend look like?’

  He exhaled a long breath. ‘The Ellie I knew was about five feet six, I guess. Slim, pale blonde hair, big brown eyes. She said she was twenty-five years old. Come to think of it, she mentioned having an older sister, but I can’t remember her name.’

  ‘So far, that all fits.’

  ‘What line of business is she in? Is it custom-made bags and purses?’

  Every last shred of hope drained from me. ‘Yes.’ I pulled my wallet from my handbag - she’d designed both - and flipped it open to show him the photo tucked inside. Ellie and me, taken just before my departure to live in Spain.

  Scott paled. ‘Oh, my God. That’s her.’

  He took my hand and gave it a squeeze, concern in his eyes. ‘This is weird, all right. But does it matter? Okay, so it would be awkward to meet Ellie again, but I can handle that. What about you? Would it be a problem?’

  I considered for a second. The answer was yes. Unless ...

  ‘I hate to ask you something so personal,’ I said. ‘But how far did your relationship progress?’

  He understood my meaning straightaway. ‘We never did have sex.’

  Thank God. That made a huge difference. ‘She didn’t want to?’

  He shook his head. ‘She seemed uptight in so many ways. I never got the full story, but it was obvious some tragedy in her past had damaged her.’

  ‘You’re not wrong there. One day I’ll tell you what happened.’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question.’ His expression remained anxious. ‘Does it bother you I once dated Ellie?’

  ‘If I’m honest, yes. We’re all adults, though. And things never got serious between you two.’

  ‘Thank God. Because I want to keep seeing you, Lynnie.’

  ‘I want that too.’ I stood up. Much as I hated our evening to end, I needed time to consider what Scott had said. Before long, I’d thrash this out with Ellie. I was determined to drag the truth from her.

  10

  Thank God Scott hadn’t asked me many questions. I’d left in a hurry, not giving him the chance to say much other than that he’d call me. An icy sweat broke out on my body when I considered how close I’d come to being unmasked. What if he’d wanted to know why my surname was different to Ellie’s, given that neither of us had ever married? Or if he had remembered my sister was supposedly called Emma, not Ellie?

  Too wired to sleep, I opened my laptop. I pulled up the Companies House website, so familiar from my accountancy career, and searched for Ellie Hunter Designs Limited, the business I’d formed for her before I left for Spain. I was looking for her last set of filed accounts.

  The figures didn’t make good reading. They were for the period ended eighteen months ago, the first year Ellie had been trading. Although they gave the bare minimum of information required, it was obvious the business had been insolvent at that stage. Not to a huge extent, but bad enough. I’d bet money that, in the months that followed, the deficit had increased, especially if Ellie had rented a shop somewhere expensive like the Galleries. My sister’s business was in a financial hole, something she’d kept a secret from me.

  I fired off a text to Ellie, saying I wanted us to meet up, that I’d be at her flat by eleven the next day.

  I didn’t sleep much that night.

  By the time I awoke, Ellie had replied to my text, confirming she’d be at home at eleven, how she was looking forward to seeing me. She wouldn’t if she knew the reason for my visit. I reminded myself I couldn’t barge in and play the bossy older sister, not if I wanted honesty from her. Any high-handed behaviour from me and she’d retreat into more lies, meaning I’d accomplish nothing.

  When Ellie opened the door, she looked far better than the last time I’d seen her. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and a hint of blusher brightened her cheeks. She didn’t look as harassed, either; the tension around her eyes was absent.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘Please.’ I’d need a caffeine boost to get through this without sparking an argument. While Ellie busied herself in the kitchen, I glanced around the living room. Everywhere was clean, a whiff of lemons in the air, and the carpet bore the marks of a recent vacuuming. Housework wasn’t the hallmark of the depressed. Along with my sister’s improved appearance, it boded well for her mental health. I doubted our ensuing discussion would, however. I reminded myself to proceed with caution.

  Ellie returned bearing our coffees. She placed a steaming mug in my hand, then sat beside me on the sofa. ‘So what’s up? Your text sounded urgent.’ Worry stole over her face. ‘Is Mum all right?’

  ‘She’s fine.’ My tone was curt. ‘It’s you I’m h
ere to discuss.’ Damn, I was sounding like a bossy older sister already.

  ‘Me?’ Surprise drove Ellie’s voice higher than normal. ‘Look, I understand you’ve been worried. But I’m okay. Not great, but getting there.’

  ‘It’s about Ellie Hunter Designs. Why didn’t you tell me your company was insolvent?’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. What makes you think my business is in trouble?’

  ‘I saw your accounts. The ones at Companies House.’

  Anger crossed my sister’s face. ‘You’ve been spying on me? Why?’

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic.’ I reined in my irritation. ‘They’re public documents. Anyone can access them.’

  ‘I know that. More to the point, why did you?’

  ‘A friend of mine told me your business was struggling. That you’d overextended yourself.’

  ‘What? Who said that?’

  ‘Scott Champion, the guy you dated several months ago.’ The memory of his pained expression as he told me about her demands for money honed my anger. ‘He’s a decent bloke. One who deserved better than the shitty treatment you dished out.’

  My sister stared at me. A myriad of emotions passed over her face, none of which I could decipher. The thought occurred to me that she was preparing to lie. Again.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said. ‘Wait - isn’t your new guy called Scott?’

  ‘Yep. Seems I’m going out with your ex, although I only found out last night.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I don’t know anyone called Scott Champion. As for dating someone with that name, that’s ridiculous. I’ve only ever had a relationship with one man, and that was Steven Simmons.’

  I fought against my anger. ‘For someone whom you’ve never met, Scott sure knows a lot about you.’

  She paled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘His description of you was spot on. What’s more, he knew you design purses and handbags. Oh, and he also identified you from the picture in my wallet.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea who this guy is, I swear. There must be some mistake.’

  ‘So two Ellie Hunters live in Bristol, both of whom make custom bags and wallets, and who look identical?’ I eyeballed her straight on. ‘This is how you operate when life get tough, isn’t it? You hide behind a smokescreen of untruths, so Mum and I never discover what’s really going on.’ I blew out a breath. ‘It’s got to stop, Els. We can’t help you if you lie to us.’

  ‘I’ve not been lying!’ Her voice could shatter glass, it rose so high.

  ‘Your business isn’t insolvent?’

  ‘No. Well, at one time, yes. But that’s the norm, isn’t it? To lose money in the first year of trading, I mean. My accountant’s been great in helping me get back on track. Everything’s fine now.’

  ‘What about the shop you rented? The one that failed?’

  ‘You’re mistaken. I’ve never opened a shop.’

  ‘You’re lying again. You leased a unit in the Galleries but it proved too expensive and dragged the business under. That’s why you tried to use Scott like a cash machine. Then you dumped him when he refused.’ My tone was harsh, any intentions of going easy on Ellie having long vanished.

  ‘That’s nonsense. My business is all done online. I’ve never rented a shop in the Galleries or anywhere else.’

  ‘What about when I was last here? You couldn’t wait to clear that pile of invoices and bank statements off the table. So I wouldn’t see the figures on them. You were worried about the business’s finances, weren’t you?’

  ‘Not in the way you think. I was sorting everything to send to my accountant, that was all. If I seemed in a mood, that’s because financial stuff bores the pants off me.’

  More lies. While I considered my next move, Ellie spoke again. ‘Let me talk to this Scott guy. If he meets me, he’ll confirm we’ve never dated, and this will all blow over.’

  ‘No.’ My voice was crisp, incisive. Hadn’t Scott suffered enough? Despite his protestations, I’d sensed he was still raw over the hurt Ellie had inflicted, and I wouldn’t expose him to her manipulations again. She’d swear night was day if it suited her.

  In that moment, a thought, terrible yet compelling, burst into my brain. An idea I rejected at first, reluctant to accept my sister could be so devious. The longer I considered the possibility, the more it made sense.

  ‘Steven Simmons never existed, did he?’ My words cracked through the air like a whip.

  A strangled gasp issued from her throat. ‘Of course he did! He took all my money, then tossed me aside like I was garbage ...’ Sobs, harsh and hacking, burst from Ellie. She was a damn fine actor; I had to give her that. The part of me that loved her flinched at seeing her that way. The other side, the one that acknowledged Ellie lied when it suited her, strengthened its resolve.

  ‘Your business failed,’ I said. ‘It drained all your reserves, left you penniless. You were ashamed, desperate, unwilling to admit the truth. So you invented a cover story.’

  She shook her head, the strangled sobs continuing. I made no move to comfort her.

  ‘No wonder you didn’t want to involve the police. They’d have nothing to investigate.’

  ‘That’s not true! I couldn’t bear anyone knowing what a fool I’d been.’

  ‘You may as well admit it. You lied, Ellie.’

  ‘I’m not lying, I swear!’

  My patience snapped. ‘Do you have the slightest idea of what Mum and I suffered when you tried to kill yourself again? All you had to do was to reach out, accept you needed help. But you didn’t. Instead you deceived your own family, and in the worst possible way.’ I strode towards the door, leaving her still crying on the sofa. Where this left our relationship, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t be around my sister right then. Her duplicity had cut too deep.

  After I returned to the Harbourside apartment, I paced my bedroom, my mind awhirl. Part of me knew why Ellie had lied. Always keen to hide her insecurities, she must have been knocked for six after the failure of her business. I understood her reasons, but her behaviour still shocked me. Someday I’d forgive her deceit, and we’d move past it, but at present I was too angry. I had lied to Scott, and for what? Some twisted notion of revenge on a man who’d never even existed.

  One thing was obvious. I needn’t waste any more effort hunting for Steven Simmons. He’d been a figment of Ellie’s imagination, nothing more. Oh, a real life con artist was at work all right, one who’d swindled money from Broken and Betrayed, as well as Anna’s daughter Sophie. A prick who’d harassed me by text, but not someone with any links to my sister. The two issues were completely separate. In a way, I was grateful. I had been losing enthusiasm for finding the bastard anyway.

  I wouldn’t tell Mum any of this, not considering her likely reaction. She didn’t need to know the extent to which her daughter had lied. If Ellie had any sense, she’d keep quiet too.

  Without warning, loneliness engulfed me. I yearned for Scott to wrap his arms around me, kiss away Ellie’s treachery. That meant no more procrastination. However much I dreaded the prospect, the time had come to reveal my true identity. Scenarios filled my head, ones in which he rejected me, called me awful names. I prayed they weren’t a forewarning. If, please God, he forgave me, Ellie would have no choice but to accept us as a couple. At least Scott had never slept with her. I only felt a little weird about dating my sister’s ex, and those feelings would pass, given time.

  In an effort to soothe myself, I turned to my art. I’d bought brushes, paints and a pad after I moved into the Harbourside flat, my urge to create as strong as my need to breathe. My efforts to capture Scott in watercolours were as unsuccessful as my attempts in pencil. The man I was growing so fond of proved elusive, his essence indefinable through art alone. Only the real thing would do.

  My bones aching with longing, I sent him a text. Any chance we could meet? Tonight?

  Within a minute, my mobile pinged.
Was going to ask the same thing. Your place this time?

  Fine by me. Is seven o’clock OK?

  You’re on. Followed by a row of kisses. My heart did a somersault. Ridiculous, but I’d fallen hard for him.

  Another ping from my phone. I picked it up, expecting an additional text from Scott, but the message was from Ellie. Can I come over? You’ve got it all wrong, I swear.

  I snorted. My fingers tapped out a reply. No. Scott’s coming here tonight. I don’t want to see you anyway. With that, I switched off my mobile. I wasn’t in the mood for my sister after the pain of her deception.

  11

  The rest of the day crawled by, anticipation at seeing Scott spiking me first with longing, then dread. In my head I rehearsed the words I’d say to restore his faith in me. None of them sounded convincing.

  My buzzer rang on the dot of seven o’clock. When I opened the door, Scott stood before me, all blue-eyed and dimpled, and I drank him in, aware tonight might be our last date. I prayed that wouldn’t be the case.

  He quirked his mouth in a shy smile, his eyes raking over my body. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’

  I stood aside to let him pass. Once I closed the door, I had no idea who moved first, but we ended up in each other’s arms, our mouths hot and hungry. I could live off such kisses, of that I was certain.

  I pulled away with a grin that bordered on embarrassed. ‘Hello to you too.’

  Scott laughed. He followed me into the kitchen, moving behind me to nuzzle the back of my neck as I opened a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses. Despite the kiss, nerves rendered my palms clammy, terror burning fierce in my belly. We’d have a few drinks first, I decided, and then I’d tell him. Everything would be all right. The alternative was unthinkable.

  We sat side by side on the sofa, sipping our wine, while he filled me in about Darcy.

  ‘She’s doing better than I expected,’ he said. ‘I’m still worried sick, though. She’s got more energy than after the first round of chemo, but that’s because she’s obsessed with the idea of curing herself without drugs. Yeah, right. As if that’s likely.’