The Perfect Liar: A completely gripping thriller with a breathtaking twist

by Beverley Harvey

  The tableau that awaits them halts Susanne in her tracks.

  ‘We’re back,’ she calls, unable to tear her eyes from the young woman who, despite the waning heat, is dressed in a bikini top and denim shorts. Side by side, two loungers littered with tanning cream, sunglasses and magazines hint at an afternoon spent sunbathing. Susanne swallows the bile rising in her throat.

  ‘Susanne! Welcome home. How was the museum? Did you love it?’ Harry says, springing to his feet and cupping her face in his hands. Caught off guard, Susanne holds back, trying to process the girl smiling and nervously twisting a lock of long blonde hair.

  Who the hell…?

  ‘Susanne, everyone, this is Star,’ Harry says. ‘She’s had a spot of bother so I said she could stay here – just for tonight.’

  Susanne is aware of Dale and Evie exchanging glances before they both shoot her a quizzical look.

  ‘Oh, right. Of course… how do you two…?’ Susanne says, before abandoning the question, unsure what she is really asking.

  The girl smiles. ‘Aww, thank you. I hope it’s all right. Harry said it would be okay.’ Her voice is small and her estuary English a stark contrast to Harry’s rounded vowels.

  ‘I told Star that you were all kind and would want to help. She’s had a huge fight with her boyfriend, Sander, and they both need space to cool off.’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing. I’m Evie, by the way,’ Evie says, her head inclined in sympathy.

  Susanne hesitates. ‘So, you’re Sander’s girlfriend? Sorry, I don’t think I knew he had one. I mean, Harry talks about Joe and Sander sometimes, but we’ve never met…’

  There’s an uncomfortable pause; Harry and Star seem to be waiting for something. Her approval, perhaps?

  Susanne smiles. ‘Look, do stay. Sorry to hear you’ve had problems. Men, eh? Well… I’ll just go and change.’

  Feeling deflated and wrong-footed, she turns back to the house. Evie trots beside her but Dale remains rooted to the spot, staring at Star, her face unsmiling, unreadable.

  In the privacy of her room, Susanne peers through a crack in the curtains. Dale is saying something to Star, arms crossed, her right hip jutting. It doesn’t take a genius to know that her body language is not that of a welcoming committee. Oh god. Just when she and Dale are back on track.

  Susanne had expected Harry to follow her inside and to offer further explanation, perhaps. But apart from a quick hello kiss and an introduction to the girl, they’d barely interacted. On the other hand, feeling grubby after her day in Florence and the journey home, she’d only have pushed him away so perhaps he was being considerate.

  Unwilling to dwell on Harry’s lame greeting any further, Susanne twists up her hair and steps into the shower. At once, the warm needles and scented bodywash have a soothing effect and she emerges feeling brighter.

  So what if Harry has female friends? And why on earth would he mention whether his young travelling mates were in relationships or not? He barely spoke about them at all, other than to announce that he was ‘going out’ to see his ‘friends’. It had never occurred to Susanne that the group might include young women. And anyway, the girl poses no threat; seems polite, shy – almost childlike, Susanne muses, rubbing fragrant lotion into her tanned skin and putting on a white cotton dress and bejewelled flip-flops.

  A thought occurs: where will Star sleep? All four bedrooms are spoken for with the women occupying one each, plus Harry’s room off a separate hallway. The obvious solution is for Harry to move into her room and to give up his bed for Star. Dale and Evie have accepted the situation and having Harry in her bed is hardly a hardship.

  A shudder of desire and anticipation ripples through Susanne as she remembers the last time they’d slept together. She bats the feeling away; each time may be physically more intense than the last, but no way can she lose her heart to Harry.

  She spritzes perfume on her neck and wrists, checks her appearance and is about to join the others when a text arrives.

  26

  Dale

  Twenty-four hours in Florence had proved to be a bonding experience as the three of them had shared the city’s history, art and culture. Both the Uffizi and the cathedral had dazzled their eyes and blown their minds; everywhere they’d looked, Dale, Susanne and Evie had found something that surprised and delighted them.

  And not just the antiquities and the architecture, but the people, too; they’d loved the glamourous style of the locals, especially the women, with their glossy hair, cinched waists and flamboyant accessories.

  Dale had somehow managed to push Harry to the back of her mind. Not that her opinion of him had changed, but she’d compartmentalised what she had to admit were feelings of sourness and resentfulness that, yet again, somebody who wasn’t her was getting close to Susanne. It was cool, she understood; it had ever been thus.

  Nevertheless, Harry was a different situation altogether. All that nonsense about having fallen for Susanne – utter bullshit! The kid had a MILF complex and was being led around by his over-ambitious cock. Well, distasteful as it was to watch Susanne squirming in her knickers and making goo-goo eyes around him, at least it was mutual. For now.

  Susanne was adamant that it was just sex, but Dale knew her too well and her tender heart was easily fractured. It sickened Dale to imagine Harry gloating over his conquests: she pictured him, boasting about his sexual antics to Joe and Sander, and god-knows-who-else, as though Susanne were some cheap tart to have fun with and then bin off without consequence.

  Then there was her niggling doubt that Harry had targeted Susanne for her obvious wealth. The fact that he had his own family money would be no deterrent to a feckless young man with an aversion to hard work. He’d already admitted that he cared little for the job awaiting him in London. Did he view Susanne’s money as a nice little stop gap until he himself inherited? Susanne was generous to a fault and he’d surely clocked that by now. Rich, loving and beautiful: a tempting combination for any young man about town.

  Regardless of her own misgivings, Dale had filed the whole scenario away – she’d been determined to distance herself with dignity and decorum, because alienating Susanne by making her feel sordid or stupid was unhelpful. And if – no, when – things crashed and burned with Harry, Dale reasoned, Susanne would need her to pick up the pieces and help heal the pain, just as they’d always done for each other. Dale wasn’t about to let some arrogant rich kid get in the way of their friendship.

  So Dale had driven home, tired but happy after their mini adventure, full of a new resolve to let Susanne and Harry’s fling run its course – but then they’d arrived at Villa Giardino and things had turned weird.

  Star? What the hell kind of hippy-dippy made-up name is that? Dale looks from Susanne to Harry, then at Star, who is now standing in some awkward one-legged yoga pose, fiddling with a rope of matted hair swept over one shoulder.

  Dale watches as though through a lens: there’s a fragility about the girl that is familiar. And then, in a gush, it comes to her. Star is the girl from the hostel in San Gimignano; she’d seen them together the day she’d lost her bearings after buying Susanne the bangle. She’d smelled weed, then had looked for the source and had seen Harry and Star sharing a beer and a joint before he’d kissed her goodbye with what looked like real tenderness.

  Harry had lied that day about who he’d seen and how he had spent the afternoon. And Dale knows with utter certainty that Harry is lying now. Star is not Sander’s girlfriend (if Sander even exists!), but his own. Harry is two-timing Star with Susanne and vice versa.

  It is obvious to Dale that Susanne is clueless about Star. No way would she sleep with a young guy (or anyone, for that matter) who was already in a relationship. Star on the other hand, seems accepting of Susanne. Unless of course she really is Sander’s girlfriend…

  ‘Shame about you and Sander. How long have you been together?’ Dale says, digging for information once Susanne and Evie have gone inside to freshen up.

>   Star hesitates and looks to Harry.

  Bingo!

  His tone is sharp. ‘Star, I don’t know why you’re being coy. You can tell Dale, she’s cool.’

  Star squinches her eyes shut for a second, as if forming a picture in her mind.

  ‘We… we’ve been together almost a year. Then we started travelling around Europe six months ago…’

  Harry nods. ‘With Joe, Sander’s best friend,’ he cuts in needlessly.

  Star licks her lips and fixes her eyes somewhere over Dale’s left shoulder. ‘Er, yeah. With Joe. That’s sort of what we argued about. I’m sick of being in a threesome… Oh! No, not like that, obviously…’ She giggles. ‘I mean, we’re always together. Me and Sander get no privacy. The three of us have been staying in hostels and cheap hotels and I’m sick of it.’

  There’s a note of sulkiness in her voice. Dale pictures Star stamping her little size-four foot.

  ‘Yeah, I can see that would piss you off. So, what? You gave him an ultimatum?’

  ‘Oh, nothing like that,’ Star says, ‘but he really shouted at me and I walked out. I just want him to miss me for a day or two, you know?’

  Harry is nodding his approval. ‘Good call, Star. Sander’s great – I mean, I love the guy, but he can be a dick sometimes. Let him sweat, hey, Dale?’

  Clever. Trying to get her onside.

  Dale smirks. ‘Sure. Most men are. Dicks, I mean.’

  27

  Susanne

  She’d expected the text to be from Cody and is disappointed when Ronnie’s name lights up the screen. With an irritated sigh, she walks to the bedroom window. On the terrace, Harry paces back and forth, swigging beer from a bottle, while Star sits on a sunbed, hugging skinny knees, her face creased with laughter and looking like a little bohemian fairy.

  ‘Very bloody cosy,’ Susanne mutters under her breath, clutching her mobile. What does Ronnie want? Contact between them has been perfunctory. Then again, they leave in under a week so there may be logistics to sort: keys to hand over, cleaning arrangements to organise and so on.

  With a sigh, Susanne swipes the screen.

  Hi Susanne, am increasingly worried about Harry. Please tell him to phone asap. Boys will be boys but not calling home on his birthday is not on! Sorry to involve you but all messages are being ignored. Best, Ronnie.

  Birthday?! When had it been Harry’s birthday? He didn’t seem the type to be shy about it; to let it pass by under the radar. Why hadn’t he said anything?

  Susanne re-reads the message. Why on earth would Harry blank his family? Evie had already passed on one message. He’d rolled his eyes and accused his family of being dramatic, claiming to have spoken to them only days earlier. He’d also promised to call his mother the following morning – well, clearly that hadn’t happened. With a mounting sense of unease, and before she can overthink things, Susanne hits the call button.

  Ronnie answers at once. ‘Susanne! Good of you to call. How’s that self-centred godson of mine?’

  ‘Hi, Ronnie,’ Susanne says, before pleasantries are exchanged. ‘Look, I wanted to set your mind at rest. Harry is absolutely fine – in fact, I’m watching him now. He’s having a drink by the pool with a young friend who’s staying for a day or two.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief!’ Ronnie says, with a squawk of laughter. ‘Who’s the friend?’

  ‘What?’ Susanne stalls for time.

  ‘I’m assuming he’s picked up some girl on his travels… there’s always a girl where Harry’s concerned. I warned his parents, I said—’

  ‘Oh, no… she’s just a friend. She’s been helping Harry with his Italian,’ Susanne says, surprised by the speed and ease with which the lie has come to her.

  ‘So he says!’ A cynical bark erupts from Veronica. ‘What did he do on his birthday?’

  ‘He didn’t mention it. I had no idea, actually. When was it?’

  ‘Oh, for god’s sake! Yesterday. His mother’s pretty upset that she didn’t hear from him, and his dad’s fuming… he’s paying for his bloody trip, after all.’

  ‘Ronnie, I’m sorry. Look, I have to go. Please don’t worry, he’s in excellent health, I can assure you…’ Susanne grimaces. ‘I promise I’ll get him to phone you or his mum within the next twenty-four hours. Speak soon, bye!’

  Susanne ends the call before Ronnie can object and sits on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to speak to her own son. She dials Cody. ‘Hey, darling. It’s Mum. I just wanted to hear your voice…’

  In the kitchen, Dale is mixing drinks. ‘Did you fall in?’ she jokes. ‘Susie, you’ve been ages.’

  Susanne smiles absently. ‘Have I? Sorry, I took a shower and then I rang Cody. I think he’s starting to miss me a bit. Maybe the novelty of Scotland, dad and dogs is finally wearing off.’

  ‘Of course it is. Cody’s not daft and he knows where his home is. I bet he can’t wait to see you.’ Dale squeezes a wedge of lemon into each cocktail. ‘These are for me and Evie; the kids have got beer. Do you want one?’

  Susanne nods. What she really wants is to talk through her phone call with Ronnie, but she can’t bear the thought of Dale turning detective and making a big deal out of Harry’s odd behaviour. She can read Dale like a book; it’s plain to see that she’s unimpressed – no, suspicious – of Star’s arrival.

  She watches Dale half fill a glass with ice and free-pour gin from a jewel-bright bottle. Right on cue, Dale lowers her voice: ‘What do you think of Star?’

  ‘She seems sweet… bit naïve, maybe. Why, what do you think of her?’

  ‘Hmm… I’m not sure about the boyfriend saga. Listen to this,’ Dale says, before relaying the conversation she’s just had with Star and Harry about the row – and the Sander/Star/Joe situation which Dale learned had caused it.

  So that’s what Dale had been grilling them about. Susanne peers out of the French windows. The sun has slipped low on the horizon and a cloud of tiny insects fizzes where Harry and Star are deep in conversation, oblivious to the bugs.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she says after a pause, ‘Three’s a crowd… I’d be pissed off if my boyfriend wanted his mate around the whole time, wouldn’t you?’

  Dale shakes her head. ‘Susie, it’s not just that. Don’t you think it’s funny that his friends have never been here and that he always goes off to San Gimi alone? You two are an item and yet he’s never taken you into town to meet them.’

  Susanne is defensive. ‘We’ve only just met; I’m not sure you can call us an item, Dale.’

  Evie enters the room. She too has showered and changed into a pretty floral dress and flip-flops.

  ‘I made you a G and T, Evie,’ Dale says, shooting Susanne a look that says this can keep, ‘Here you go, hon. Cheers.’

  The women clink glasses and hover in the open door, seemingly enjoying the sunset, but Susanne is watching Harry and Star and she’s certain that Dale is, too.

  Perhaps sensing he’s being observed, Harry turns and beckons the women outside.

  ‘Come on, it’s still warm,’ he says.

  Evie shakes her head. ‘No, thanks. Think I’ll make a start on dinner. We’ve still got plenty of pasta, some wild mushrooms and a jar of passata if anyone’s interested?’

  Dale nods. ‘Sounds fab, Evie. I’ll give you a hand, shall I?’ she says, glancing at Susanne.

  Susanne is torn between hanging out in the kitchen with Dale and Evie or wedging herself into the new clique that is Harry and Star.

  It’s a wake-up call: the realisation that if Harry were to become her lover and partner, however close they might be, around his friends she’d always feel like their mother. The thought alone embarrasses her so she mumbles to Harry about supper being ready in twenty minutes and retreats to the kitchen where Dale and Evie are already at work, chopping, dicing and rattling pans.

  She longs to have a private conversation with Dale and Evie, keen to get their take on Veronica’s phone call but she’s unsure how much can be overhe
ard from the terrace.

  Not that Harry is paying any attention; he’s far too engrossed in Star. A pang of jealousy grips Susanne. Perhaps Dale’s insinuations that Harry and Star are more than friends are accurate. Harry has barely acknowledged her – is his coolness for Star’s benefit? Perhaps Harry is the real reason for Star’s breakup with Sander? The what ifs begin circling Susanne’s brain at an alarming rate, rendering her anxious and queasy and she longs to escape.

  ‘Darlings, do you mind if I skip dinner and have an early night? I feel a bit wobbly and not myself at all,’ she says, a note of panic rising in her voice.

  Dale is at her side immediately. ‘You okay, Susie? You do look a bit pale – are you going to throw up? Shall I come with you?’

  ‘Er, would you, I just feel a bit off.’ Susanne motions for Dale to follow her. Once inside her room she sinks onto the bed and asks Dale to close the door.

  ‘Hon, I’m okay, really. To be honest, I’m tired and fed up and I don’t know what to think about Star’s arrival. I mean, she seems sweet enough, but she’s a bit clingy with Harry and it makes me wonder… Oh, for god’s sake, I need to get a grip, don’t I?’

  Dale throws up her hands. ‘No, it’s not you, Susie. The whole thing’s weird, if you ask me,’ she says loyally.

  ‘Bless you, Dale. I saw you cross-examining the witness through the window… I wish I could be as direct as you are. Anyway, there’s something I wanted to tell you …’ Susanne says, before repeating her conversation with Ronnie.

  28

  Evie

  Evie massages her sore, distended stomach. She’d thrown together a tasty meal from bits and bobs in the fridge and store cupboard, helped by Dale, which had pleasantly surprised her and given them time to chat about the highlights of their Florence trip. But after Susanne had escaped to her room feeling poorly, keen not to waste the food they’d prepared, she’d eaten more than usual. Now, the mushrooms have given her indigestion and the Chianti has made her head fuzzy.