The obituaries for Gerald Candless, who had died of a heart attack just days before he was due to have a bypass operation, were respectful. He had been, after all, an admired and popular writer, a candidate for the Booker Prize prize. So his sudden death was a loss to literature as well as to his family and friends. The trouble was, as his daughter Sarah soon discovered when she embarked on a memoir of him, very few of the facts so confidently printed in the papers were true. Incredible though it might be, it seemed that her father had taken on a different identity at some point in his life . . . that he wasn't Gerald Candless at all. But if he wasn't Gerald Candless, who was he? And what terrible thing had driven him to conceal his real identity even from his wife and children?