And there’s more. Her flat isn’t hers. Her cats aren't hers. Even her hair isn’t really hers. Nor is she any of the other women she pretends to be. Not the bestselling romance novelist who gets her morning snack from the doughnut van on the seafront. Nor the pregnant woman in the dental surgery. Nor the chemo patient in the supermarket for whom the cashier feels ever so sorry. They're all just alibis. In fact, the only thing that’s real about Joanne is that nobody can know who she really is. But someone has got too close. It looks like her alibis have begun to run out….