The Second Mrs Wallace

Switzerland, 1963. Yesterday, as the train whizzed past the Gstaad Palace hotel lit up like a fairytale castle in the snow-topped mountains, I glanced once more at the diamond ring sparkling on my finger and thought, my life is perfect. From the very first moment I met Max Wallace two months ago, I knew that he would change my life forever. But today I feel doubts creeping in. In the swirling snow at the top of the mountain I see a woman – blonde Brigitte Bardot updo, pointed chin and upturned nose – and my breath catches in my throat. She looks exactly like me. She lifts her sunglasses and I see the recognition on her face. We could be twins, but she’s not looking at me. She’s looking at my husband. She knows him. Max says he didn’t see her. But he did. And that’s when I realise: my new husband is already lying to me. I couldn’t wait to become Mrs Wallace. But what if I don’t know the man I married?