Page 116 of The House Swap

He said nothing at first, just waited as if wanting her to catch up, but then he finally spoke.

‘I told you I’d be here tonight.’

His voice was quiet, his tone measured, and that was the moment when everything changed.

Not because of what he had said. But how he had said it.

Blood rushed in Poppy’s ears, and everything seemed to tilt.

Why did he sound so familiar?

A cold weight settled in her gut.

No. No. It wasn’t possible.

She looked at him properly now, her fingers tightening around her phone, her heart hammering harder now as her thoughts scrambled to keep up.

‘What?’ Her voice faltered. ‘What did you just say?’

He continued to watch her, and though he remained passive, she couldn’t help but suspect he was enjoying this.

‘You heard me.’

Poppy’s chest tightened. He didn’t sound like Martin now. His accent had gone, and his voice… it was slightly posher.

Recognisable.

‘No,’ she said quickly, shaking her head again, as if she could physically push the thought away. ‘No, don’t…’ She trailed off.

Because she had heard it. She just didn’t want to believe it.

‘You’re always overthinking things, Pops.’

Something inside her snapped, her breath hitching at the memory of late-night calls. The way Tom spoke her name. The quiet, steady reassurance of his voice.

No.

No, no, no.

It couldn’t be.

‘Stop it!’ she demanded, louder now. ‘Stop talking like that. Stop talking like him.’

Martin’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he seemed relieved.

‘There’s no point in pretending any more,’ he said quietly.

The words settled between them and Poppy’s stomach roiled so violently she thought she was going to be sick.

‘No,’ she repeated, but this time without conviction. ‘No, you’re not…’ She couldn’t even finish the sentence, because she didn’t know what he was any more.

Martin tilted his head slightly, studying her. ‘I am. It’s me, Pops.’

The affectionate nickname hit harder this time. It was Tom’s voice, but not his face.

Everything inside her dropped as the truth finally forced its way through.

Tom wasn’t at the airport. He wasn’t on his way to the villa. He was already here. Standing right in front of her.