‘The truth is, we’re a book club,’ Ashley said, sufficiently recovered to form a sentence. ‘And we all absolutely love your novels. I personally have read every one over twelve times. You are such an inspiration, and we are honoured to have you living locally, even if only for a short while. I’ve written to your agent so many times inviting you to the book club. It would mean everything, if you could come. Just pop in for a few minutes. We meet in The Common Café, so you can walk it if the weather’s good…’
‘You like my books?’ Hillary asked, in disbelief. ‘Youlike my books?’
‘I love them,’ Ashley squeaked. ‘We all do.’
‘Ahem.’ Lucille coughed. ‘No offence, but some of us prefer deeper literary themes. Preferably something that isn’t anti-feminist.’
‘What?’ Hillary looked like a ventriloquist’s dummy, her round head swinging from Ashley to Lucille and back. ‘Deeper literary themes? Anti-feminist? Are you joking? I’ve won the Camberley Literary Award for Feminist Literature. One of the judges was French! Right. I’ve had enough. Which one of you is…’ she leaned in and read the estate agent’s folder ‘… Naomi Brook?Youcan view the house. You book-club people can leave. Now. And take these children with you.’
Ashley was gobsmacked for the second time in fifteen minutes. ‘Naomi Brook,’ she echoed, slowly and clearly.
‘Yes. That’s what I said. Where is she?’
‘She doesn’t know,’ Ashley said. ‘She doesn’t recognise the name. It’s not her.’
Having reached the same conclusion, the others now turned to me. It was a useful distraction, seeing as Lucille looked set to gouge Hillary’s eyes out.
I screwed up my face, bit the side of my cheek so hard I left a bruise. Eventually managed to come up with something. ‘I guess there’s more than one Hillary West living in Sherwood Forest?’
It was then I saw Mack, eyes wide open, an expression of utter horror on his face.
‘It’s okay,’ I blabbered. ‘Just a case of mistaken identity. I sent a form off to the DVLA to see who owned the car, back when you were being all cryptic and mysterious. And when I saw it was Hillary West, I put two and two together and made… ninety-two.’
‘But this Hillary West is an author too,’ Sarah said. ‘She’s won an award. There can’t be two authors called Hillary West from round here, surely?’
‘Number one,’ Hillary ground out, ‘I’m not from “round here”. I hate it here, which is why I’m trying to sell this chuffing house, so I can finally move on with my life. And, two.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘I am not Hillary West. I’m Sienna Stracken. Author of the prize-winning literary classicThe Wheel ofWoman. I donotwrite romance-by-numbers drivel.’
‘Oh, my life,’ Lucille shouted. ‘Can I just say, I’m your biggest fan!’
Ashley burst into tears, letting out a sound an elephant might make if someone trod on its trunk.
‘So, was it an actual wheel or not?’ Sarah asked, before Ellen gave her a shove. ‘Yeah, now’s probably not the time. Forget I asked.’
‘But if you’re not Hillary West, who is?’ Kiko asked. ‘I thought the only other person living here was Mack.’
We all looked at Mack. If Charlotte Meadows had hoarded a sculpture entitled ‘Angriest Man in the World’, it now stood here on the scrubby grass.
‘You are flippin’ kidding me,’ Sarah murmured. Ashley wiped her nose on her blue spotty mac and peered closer.
Ellen appeared to be the only one of us capable of rational speech, given that Lucille was now off to one side gushing over Sienna Stracken. ‘You’re her? Hillary West?’ she asked, in the same gentle voice she used to coax Billy down from the roof of the greenhouse.
Mack furrowed his eyebrows until they almost became a moustache. Crossed his arms then stuck them on his hips. ‘No. And yes.’
Hah! Ellen’s gentle voice was irresistible.
‘Hillary West is a pen-name?’
‘No.’
‘But you are her?’
‘This could be bigger news than we thought,’ Sarah said, glancing at me.
‘I’m him,’ Mack replied, emphatically.
‘But how can you be him, when she’s a she, and how can you be Hillary West, when you’re Mack?’ Ashley wailed.
Good question. Twin ribbons of hurt and foolishness tangled themselves round my internal organs.
