‘But why wait to tell me until just before I go to New Zealand? It’s almost as if you want to keep me here.’
Sally glared at her ex-fiancé. ‘Fuck off, Nick! The world doesn’t revolve around you or your sodding love life. This isn’t about you; it’s about this thing growing inside me. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘Then why did you?!’
‘Because I don’t know if I can do this on my own. Because I wish I was a stronger person but I’m not. Because before I make my decision I thought you had a right to know.’
‘Made what decision?’
‘Oh, come on Nick, you’re not stupid. You know what I mean. I don’t know if I either want or can deal with having and raising a child alone.’
‘You can’t get rid of it.’
‘Can’t I?’
‘No.’
‘Watch me.’
He was surprised by the venom in her voice. Clearly being alone was very difficult for her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means you don’t get to tell me what to do. You made your choice when you left me for someone else.’
‘You agreed I had no choice! You told me to go!’
‘That was before I realised I was pregnant. Before you’d made me pregnant.’
‘Made you pregnant? It takes two, remember?’
‘I didn’t see you throwing me off you when we were in Bruges.’
‘Is that when it happened? Jeez, Sally, that was ages ago. Why didn’t you figure it out sooner?’
‘I’ve been counting back and it must have been,’ she huffed. ‘I knew I should have gone with my gut instinct and kept my mouth shut.’
There was a selfish side to Nick that also wished she had kept quiet. That way he could fly to the other side of the world in blissful ignorance.
‘What do you want me to do, Sal?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanted you to know.’ She looked at him. ‘I thought you’d want to do the right thing, but clearly I was mistaken. I can deal with this by myself.’
But Nick knew that doing nothing wasn’t an option he could, with a clear conscience, take.
‘I don’t want you to have an abortion.’
‘Neither do I, but you can’t have it both ways, Nick. Either you stick around and we try to find a way to make this mess work, or you go away and do your thing while I do what I have to do. The choice is yours.’
Chapter 75
ELLIE
Ellie and Tim went about their day-to-day routines like everything in their world was perfectly normal. For all intents and purposes, they were a typical, contented couple – but for one difference: Ellie knew that her relationship with her Match was a sham.
At 5.30am each day, Andrei picked Ellie up from Tim’s house and drove her to work in London, and each evening, Tim cooked them dinner. Then they’d either settle down to watch a drama Tim had recorded on his Digibox, or retreat into their own online worlds on their tablets.
Ellie hated that she had fallen in love with a man with a hidden agenda. Before she had found footage of him mouthing the words ‘Hello, Ellie’ into the security camera, a tiny part of her had clung on to the hope there might be an innocent explanation for all his lies about his mother, like he’d only discovered that she’d worked for Ellie after they’d began dating or that he didn’t even know himself. But, the footage confirmed what her gut told her. There was nothing innocent about Tim or his motives. Everything he had done was deliberate and well-rehearsed. And the burning question that dominated Ellie’s every thought was, why? She knew Tim had only just registered with Match Your DNA, otherwise she would have been notified of the Match earlier. Yet he’d been interviewed for a job more than a year ago. Was he an undercover journalist? Or employed by a rival company trying to infiltrate her ranks? Had he just got lucky being Matched to her? It was too far-fetched a theory to make sense, but she was struggling to find an alternative.
What she did know was that at some point long before they met, Tim had anticipated that she’d find the footage of him for an as-yet-unknown endgame. And until she knew exactly what he was hiding, their uncomfortable charade would continue.
The suite in London’s Soho Hotel was ready for Ellie as she entered through the glass doors and was escorted up to the third floor.
She’d hurried inside before the paparazzi could recognise her. Andrei walked ahead and Ellie was flanked by two of his team, all briefed on her predicament with Tim. She had declined Andrei’s offer to elicit Tim’s information by force and she refused all his demands to sever ties with him. Getting to the bottom of the situation without violence was her priority, and she pursued her quest with a dogged determination. However, she did agree to carry a panic alarm when she was with Tim.
Once inside the plush modern suite, Ula greeted her and took her jacket. A woman and three men she didn’t recognise sat at a table in the middle of the room. Ellie took off her sunglasses and joined them.
‘Ellie, this is Tracy Fenton and her team: Jason, Ben and Jack,’ Ula said. ‘They’ve been looking into Tim’s background for you.’
Ellie had never met the team of private investigators her company used. Their services bent many privacy and information security laws, but this had never worried her and this particular investigation was paramount.
‘Shall we get started?’ Tracy said matter-of-factly, and opened the coloured folders that lay on the table. Ellie was surprised by her appearance – considering how borderline-legal her techniques were, she had a very unassuming, mumsy look about her. But she spoke with directness and efficiency. ‘Firstly, on behalf of my team I’d like to offer my sincerest apologies for us dropping the ball the first time round. The timescale we were given to complete our work didn’t allow us to do a thorough enough job, but that’s no excuse. I can assure you personally it will not happen again.’
Ellie nodded but didn’t offer any outward signs that she forgave their error.
‘Details about your fiancé are scant and it’s our opinion that he has buried himself very deeply,’ Tracy continued. Already, Ellie felt her stomach knot. She dug her heels into the rug to maintain her composure. ‘But let’s tell you what we know about him so far. Timothy Hunt, real name Matthew Ward, was born in St Neots, Cambridge, to parents Samantha and Michael Ward.’
‘He told me he didn’t know his father. His parents were married?’
‘They were,’ Tracy said, and passed copies of marriage and birth certificates to Ellie across the table. ‘The couple had no further children. Matthew was educated in Cambridge until at least sixteen: an average student with mediocre GCSE results. But we cannot ascertain if he continued into further education or university. Meanwhile, his parents divorced, after twenty-six years of marriage, eight years ago. Both went on to re-marry, and his mother died three years ago in a house fire in Oundle, Northants. The coroner’s cause of death was smoke inhalation. The CV he provided you with for his job application includes a selection of fictional businesses, none of which check out. And we cannot find any current record of employment.’
‘So for almost twenty years, Tim … I mean Matthew, hasn’t existed?’ Ellie asked.
‘It appears that way. He has erased all traces of himself.’ Tracy opened a second folder and passed Ellie more printouts and photocopies. ‘Timothy appears to have made his first appearance in your life at his job interview – we can find no record of him before that date. Everything we learned upon our first investigation was created, faked or manipulated. We have spoken to his football teammates who informed us he joined them just over a year ago, but rarely attends social functions. None of them know much about him.’