After the Lie: A gripping novel about love, loss and family secrets Read Online Free Page A

of moisture in my body as other people. When the whole room wept at wedding speeches, I stood dry-eyed at the back, wondering where people found the huge well of emotion to display. But today I was making up for it.
    I needed to talk to Sean. Surely he had as much to lose as me? What if he just viewed it as a bit of fun, something that happened so long ago as to merit barely a mention? What if he couldn’t believe it was still governing my life, my family’s life, changing us all forever? Of course, he hadn’t lived it the way we had, but if his lips, those perfect lips, even suggested a smile, I’d have to be kept away from pitchforks.
    I forced myself to take deep breaths until I stopped shaking. Nearly time to go and meet the bride who was taking the theme of ‘Until death do us part’ to extremes. I didn’t dare cancel in case I lost the ability to face anyone ever again once I’d stepped off the merry-go-round. Onwards and upwards with eye-whitening drops, foundation and a quick polish of my backbone.
    I found the bride’s house easily. From the outside, it was a smart executive home, a square of lawn in front, garage to the side. When Clarissa answered the door, I did have to practise ‘eyes in’, as I instructed the children whenever we walked past a shouting match in the street, a car accident or anyone who was passé enough to be sporting a Mohican. Clarissa had enough nose and lip jewellery to quake in fear at magnetic forces. Beneath the long black hair streaked with pink, she had the sweetest elfin face. I did wonder what her fiancé looked like. How would he kiss her without getting an eye tooth hooked in a hoop? I wondered whether the neighbours shooed their children away in case they were invited in to eat barbecued bat.
    She waved an arm tattooed with crossbows and gothic symbols and swept me across the threshold. ‘Come in, come in. I’m Clarissa.’
    I held out my hand, noticing the inky skulls on her knuckles. She led me into a sitting room that looked like a skeleton might jiggle out from behind the velvet curtains. The walls were black. Two deep purple sofas were suspended from the ceiling by thick rope, dominating the room. Despite my misery, I was still trying to catalogue every little detail, storing it up to make the kids laugh. I didn’t want to think about what the bedroom looked like – chains and drapes and spiky things came to mind.
    Clarissa indicated one of the swings. ‘Have a seat.’
    I hesitated. ‘Is there anywhere I could sit with the laptop at a table?’
    Clarissa smiled. ‘We don’t have a table.’
    I moulded my face into a blank. ‘Okay, I’ll just balance on the swing.’ Nothing like trying to look professional while clinging onto playground equipment.
    While we discussed her desire to come down the aisle to Bat Out of Hell and the logistics of having her Doberman, Satan, as a bridesmaid, my mind was chasing all sorts of solutions to stop Sean messing up my life for a second time. I needed to warn my parents. I couldn’t allow them to bump into him at school over coffee and croissants on French Day. Disappearing abroad was beginning to look very attractive.
    ‘Could you organise a wedding cake with a big skull on top?’ Clarissa asked, breaking into my miserable thoughts. ‘Would it be hugely expensive? My fiancé is concerned about the finances. He thinks we should just have cupcakes, but I’ve got my heart set on it. It would be so cool with a little bride and groom sitting in the eye sockets.’
    ‘I do know a clever cake maker but she doesn’t come cheap. Of course, if it really matters to you, I can spread the cost about among some other things on the invoice, so your fiancé wouldn’t necessarily have to know that it went on the cake.’
    Clarissa looked aghast.
    ‘No. That wouldn’t be right. I love Mungo so much, we tell each other everything. You can’t go into a marriage without total honesty, can you?’
    She looked at me with those huge