and friendship of my old tutor in the process. But I believed that, in doing what I’d done, I’d saved Eddie – perhaps even his life – and that in some respects it was a price worth paying.
‘I got on with my life, barely heard his name, didn’t see any more books after his first, ripped-off novel. Then he started to appear in the red tops, pictured falling drunkenly out of nightclubs, better known for being a troublemaking socialite than a writer. And then, last year, there was news of this new book.
‘Eddie’s publicity was never going to involve straightforward reviews or a launch event at Waterstones, but I hadn’t expected that interview, or the lies in it. The idea that I forced him to brush the plagiarism under the carpet, that he had wanted to come clean, that I bullied him, couldn’t be further from the truth. And, if you were wondering …’ He sighed again, squeezing her hand. ‘I did not sleep with the journalist. I knew her, which was the reason Eddie had asked for my help in the first place, so I was more likely to be able to persuade her. Though the substantial sum she asked for was probably the defining factor.’
‘I wasn’t wondering,’ Abby said. ‘I didn’t believe that for a second. But what did he say to you – at the awards?’
Jack took his hand away and drank his coffee, even though it had long since gone cold. ‘He said that I shouldn’t be too disheartened that my relationship with Natasha had ended, that there were probably some journalists waiting in the wings to ease my pain, as long as I paid them well enough.’
Abby closed her eyes.
‘I know, it’s pathetic, but on top of the interview he’d given … I’d been called in by my publishers, asked to explain myself, was close to losing my contract. And he’d begged me to help him hide the plagiarism claim. At the time, I’d put everything on the line – my career, my reputation, my relationship with my former professor – and then, years later, he revealed it himself anyway, twisting my involvement. And so, when he appeared, seemingly without a care in the world and said that to me – I lost it. It was stupid and reckless. I regret it as much as any other part of this whole, sorry business.’ He stood up and walked to the window, pushing it wide open.
Sounds of spring invaded the room, a relief after the darkness of his story. It was horrible, all of it. Their friendship starting out so innocently, Eddie beginning to crumble under the pressure of trying to prove himself, the way he’d held on to Jack and blamed him equally, creating something toxic and destructive between them. And yet, she still didn’t understand.
‘Why didn’t you tell your side of the story? Why didn’t you explain to a newspaper, or someone you trusted, what really happened all those years ago?’
Jack turned and leaned against the windowsill. ‘Because I didn’t want to stoop to his level. I didn’t want to bring what would essentially be a playground spat out into the open.’
‘A playground spat? Jack, he spiked your drink! He stole someone’s work, got you to cover for him, then fed all those lies about you to the paper.’
‘But I chose to keep our friendship intact,’ Jack said. ‘I let him back in, and maybe I was partly to blame from the start. Maybe I caused this. His disregard for other people, the drugs, the need to steal Ernest’s work to secure his own future.’
‘How could you be responsible for what Eddie did, for the way he lived his life? Jack …’ She pushed herself up and walked over to him. ‘From what you’ve told me, you have given him too many chances. You tried to rescue him when, the truth is, he doesn’t want to be rescued. The man I met today was cruel. He has caused this pain, and implicated you, deliberately. He’s jealous of you, and he can’t bear to see you do well. You have to stop protecting him.’
‘I will. I have. After what he did to you—’
‘He didn’t hurt me,’ she said quickly.
‘But he did,’ Jack said. ‘Don’t brush it away.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, blinking rapidly, and Abby suddenly saw how vulnerable he was, as if the boy who had first smiled at Eddie Markham in a classroom all those years ago had returned, only to discover that Eddie had never really been his friend at all.
‘Don’t worry about me.’
‘Of course I do,’ he whispered. ‘You’re everything, Abby.’
He kissed her and she pressed herself against him, the spring breeze caressing her through the window as she tried to believe his words, that he wasn’t just reaching out for something positive in the midst of fresh despair.
‘I have to call Leo,’ he said eventually. ‘I have to tell him what’s happened.’
‘Of course. Do you want me to go?’
He shook his head. ‘Stay with me?’
She made more coffee, listening to the cadence of his deep voice through the thin walls of the cottage. The back garden was a riot of spring flowers, of tulips and lupins, a white rose bush, the stems drooping under the weight of its blooms. Bees buzzed, early cabbage whites flittered happily in the still air, and she heard the trill of a warbler in the woodland beyond. Everything outside was peaceful and beautiful, carrying on in a way that made her envious.
When she returned to the living room, Jack was slumped on the sofa, staring at his phone.
‘What did Leo say?’ Abby asked.
Jack didn’t reply immediately. He looked at her apprehensively, and despite the warmth of the day, she felt chilled.
‘What?’ Abby whispered.
‘He’s pissed off,’ Jack said. ‘Understandably.’
‘With Eddie?’
‘And with me. He thinks I should have seen it coming, that I should have protected you, and he’s right. I should have—’
‘What? Stopped me from leaving the house? Come on Jack, how could you have predicted this would be his next move? And isn’t Leo just firing off because he’s panicking? He seemed happy enough last night, unless he was giving you warnings when I wasn’t listening.’
Jack shook his head. ‘He wasn’t. But he thinks I need to face it this time, to stand up to Eddie, and I’ve told him I’m ready to tell my side of the story. I’m just sorry this has led to you being involved. If I hadn’t asked you to come with me last night …’
‘Stop it, Jack.’ She sat next to him and put the steaming mugs on the table. ‘What is the point of if only? We are where we are, and you need to listen to Leo, do everything he says. Promote your book, show everyone the real you, and prove that Eddie’s story is a complete fabrication.’
‘You sound so certain.’
‘And you sound like you’re already defeated. Come on Jack, where’s your fighting spirit?’
He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘My fighting spirit is here. With you.’
‘There you go then,’ Abby said. ‘Let’s see some of it.’
But Jack’s smile faded, taking Abby’s confidence with it. She suddenly felt weighted down by something, a realization that didn’t hit home until Jack
