Anna looked at the hardback titled: The Moon Dragon. ‘Gabi,’ she said slowly, starting to fear for her friend’s sanity. ‘This is not Brody. It’s a book.’

‘By him,’ Gabi said, her eyes boring into Anna’s, waiting for Anna to catch her meaning.

Anna laughed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, it really isn’t.’ She handed the book back to Gabi. ‘Brody Alexander,’ she said. ‘Not Brody Smith. The same results clogged up the page when I Googled too. It’s not him.’

‘It’s the same person. His full name is Brody Alexander Smith.’

Anna shook her head gently. ‘But I looked at his website. It said he lives in London. He’s married…’

Gabi looked at her meaningfully, then opened the cover and flipped to the copyright page. She tapped the creamy paper with a fingernail. ‘This was published in 2008. Maybe the website has not been updated? Maybe he did live in London at one time – and you said he’d lost his…’

‘Wife,’ Anna finished for her. She tugged the book back out of Gabi’s fingers. There was that same black-and-white author photo she’d seen on the internet inside the jacket. Her heart stuttered. This was Brody?

‘That’s why Brody Alexander was high up when we Googled Brody Smith,’ Gabi explained, her eyes shining with triumph and accomplishment. She’d always fancied herself as a bit of an amateur detective. ‘I read some online articles about him. One of them said what his real name was, and that he uses a different one for his books.’

Anna was still staring at the photo. It wasn’t at all what she imagined when she’d pictured him. Not at all. But in a strange way, the face was right – perfect – for the voice on the other end of the phone line, a voice she was so familiar with she could replay snatches of their conversations in her head, should she wish to.

‘Maybe I should say “used” a different name,’ Gabi added. ‘He hasn’t written for a very long time. His fans are still waiting for the sixth and final book in this series.’

Anna looked up at Gabi. None of this made any sense. Brody had never talked about writing, about doing anything much creative, apart from the woodworking he did, which had seemed to Anna like a bit of an old man’s hobby. But what had he said once…? Something about having made enough money from a career he’d walked away from to have bought his cottage…? Anna’s skin began to tingle.

This was his secret? Why had he kept this from her?

‘There is something else…’ Gabi said, hesitantly. ‘One website also said why he has not written a new book for almost ten years, about why he may have disappeared. There was an accident—’

‘I don’t want to know!’ Anna blurted out so loudly that a couple of other customers turned around and frowned at her. ‘I don’t want to know,’ she repeated more quietly, making sure Gabi met her gaze and knew how serious she was about this. She’d decided not to snoop and, despite the fact she was suddenly desperate to know all the things Brody hadn’t told her, she couldn’t quite bring herself to go there. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her. And he’d do that one day soon, surely.