by Alex Day
Edie smiled. ‘Mum, you don’t have to tread so carefully. I’m not an eggshell.’
She thought of the resort, of the blazing summer sun and the blue, blue sea glittering beneath it, and smiled again, albeit wanly.
‘I’d love to see Fatima and the twins. And Zayn.’ She gave a snort of resigned disbelief at the sound of his name. How could she have been so wrong, been such a bad judge of character? She’d dismissed him as weak and ineffectual, as not virile and manly like Vuk. She’d even believed him to be a baddie, just like Vlad – and Vuk – when in fact he’d been doing everything he could to rescue his sister from a fate that was, quite possibly, worse than death. As for Vuk – how terribly she had misjudged him. God, she was rubbish sometimes.
‘Patrick and Debs are going at Easter,’ Sophia said, as if suddenly remembering something she’d been told a long time ago. ‘Patrick rang while you were out and told me – which reminds me that he asked you to call back sometime so that you can tell him how you are.’
The way Sophia mentioned the phone call made it sound as if it already belonged to the distant past. Their chat, more honest and open than they had had in years, seemed to have altered time. Edie acknowledged to herself now that she had never allowed such talk, had shut down any such conversation. But sharing was good, she understood in an instant of self-realisation.
‘So don’t forget to call Patrick later, will you.’
Edie felt her cheeks redden as she remembered how she had mocked him and Debs, had been so critical and judgemental, especially of Debs. Her dismissive attitude towards others was yet one more bad trait that must be quashed; she had to stop that behaviour, to grow up. Live and let live would be her new motto.
‘I will,’ Edie assured her mother, and meant it.
‘And the holiday? Any initial thoughts?’
Edie watched the sunlight shafting through the tree branches in the garden and casting dapples of light on the window panes. They needed cleaning.
‘Perhaps we can go next summer, as soon as swimming season starts again?’
It would be good to go, like getting back on a horse when you’ve taken a bad fall. Restorative.
Sophia nodded. ‘That sounds perfect. But,’ she paused and made sure Edie was looking at her before continuing. ‘only if you are well. Because in all honesty Edie, that’s the only thing any of us truly wants.’
Edie bit her lip and twizzled her phone around on the table before replying.
‘Yes,’ she finally said, as firmly as possible though she could feel her voice wavering.
‘That’s what I want, too. To get better. And I promise that I will.’ She looked up and met her mother’s gaze full on.
‘It’s time I let Laura’s ghost go, to rest in peace.’
Author’s Note
LOST TWIN SYNDROME
Lost Twin Syndrome is one name for a little-studied but anecdotally acknowledged phenomenon in which a surviving twin experiences life-long feelings of loneliness, loss and longing for the twin who didn’t make it. The evidence that exists points to this being felt particularly strongly when a twin dies at birth or shortly before or after.
Those who suffer from LTS report a wide range of symptoms, including any or all of the following:
The belief that part of the self is missing
Chronic melancholy or sadness
A fascination or obsession with twins
A sense of profound loss or loneliness
Immature or childish behaviour
Extreme sensitivity to other people
The constant seeking of a perfect partner or soulmate
Depression and a feeling that life does not make sense
A tendency to seek or cling to co-dependent relationships
Inappropriate and dysfunctional behaviour, for example, obsessions, compulsions, eating disorders or hypochondria
Paranoia and / or psychosis
About the Author
Alex Day is a writer, teacher, parent and dreamer who has been putting pen to paper to weave stories for as long as she can remember. The Missing Twin is her first psychological thriller but she is a bestselling author of fiction under the name Rose Alexander.
Inspired by a real pair of identical twin girls, The Missing Twin also draws on Alex’s experience of teaching newly arrived refugees, migrants and asylum seekers in a London comprehensive school.
@alexdaywriter
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