‘You do remember us, don’t you?’ Aveline says.
‘How could I forget?’
My tone disconcerts her, the smile of false sympathy wavers.
‘We just wanted to say how sorry we are. It must be so awful finding this out after all these years.’
‘We always talked about her,’ Hannah says. ‘I haven’t been able to stop crying. I still can’t believe it. Honestly, Tess, I know we haven’t kept in touch—’
‘For good reason,’ I say.
‘But if there’s anything we can do to help …’
She flounders and looks to the others, who appear similarly lost for words. I let the silence stew; I want them to feel uncomfortable.
‘I think you’ve done enough for now,’ I say at last.
Aveline looks genuinely upset.
‘I don’t know what you mean, we only wanted to offer our sympathy, to come here and support you.’
‘The creepy twin.’ I glare at Natalie. ‘It’s always one of the family. She was obsessed with Edie.’
Natalie has enough decency to look embarrassed.
‘It wasn’t me who said that,’ Aveline says.
‘No. You said you never liked me. You’re only here for the spectacle. None of you give a damn about her.’
‘That’s not true,’ Aveline says.
She takes a step forwards. Natalie grabs her arm.
‘Come on, Aveline,’ she says.
Aveline looks around her.
‘It’s not true, Tess,’ she says and lets Natalie lead her away.
Raquel comes over holding Fleur.
‘Who were they?’
‘Bitches from school.’
Concern creases Raquel’s brow but she doesn’t say anything.
‘It was good of you to come, Raq. It means a lot, having someone from the old days. Someone who actually cared about Edie.’
‘I never had friends like you and Edie again, do you know that?’
A tear rolls down her cheek. She shifts Fleur to rest on her hip and wipes her cheek with her free hand. ‘It was never the same after you left. So many people came and went. I felt alone, just me and Mum.’
‘Where is she?’
‘I thought about bringing her, but it would just upset and confuse her. There doesn’t seem much point in putting her through that when she won’t even remember it tomorrow. But, Tess, I need to speak to you about something now,’ she looks over her shoulder. ‘In private.’
‘Does it have to be today?’
‘Yes,’ she says.
There’s an urgency to her voice. Ray is striding towards me.
‘Tell me back at the house.’
Ray arrives.
‘We’re going now,’ he says.
‘I’ll see you there,’ Raquel says.
Ray links his arm through mine and leads me up the path we walked a few weeks ago. He leans against me and again I can smell whisky on his breath.
‘You’re the last one, Tess,’ he says. ‘The last one of my little Swifts.’
I press my wrist into my side and feel the hot metal of the bracelet against my skin.
‘I remember the first time I saw your mother, she took my breath away. How could I have known it would end like this? Even you’re living in London. All the women in my life, gone.’
‘You’ve still got Becca,’ I say.
‘Ah yes,’ he gives a sardonic smile. ‘I’ll always have the lovely Rebecca, till the day I die.’
He laughs and loses his balance a little so that I have to push him to walk upright.
I never imagined their marriage to be passion-filled, but I assumed a basic affection existed. Ray doesn’t criticise or complain about Becca the way other men do about their wives, their nagging, their interfering relatives and constant demands. He lets Becca have her way with the house and the holidays, while he gets on with running the business that once belonged to her father. Maybe it’s the mix of whisky and grief that’s allowed resentment to bubble up through their Ideal Home lives.
Becca’s waiting at the car, her face solemn. I detach myself from Ray. Becca squeezes my arm and I clamber into the back of the car. Ray sits in the middle, Becca follows. Dad’s already sitting in the front.
The driver pulls off. I watch the streets streak before me, a rewind of our last trip to Mum’s grave.
Becca stares straight ahead, the palms of her hands flat on her lap, her face blank. Ray is sitting bolt upright, the classic pose of a drunk attempting to appear sober. The side of his face is twitching; he’s trying not to cry.
Did Ray envy Dad his wife and family? Did he long for children of his own? I can’t believe it was his choice to remain childless. He doted on Edie and me. Especially Edie. Perhaps he wanted boys, so he could take them to football and let them take over the firm when they were older. He was old-fashioned like that. He considered a football crowd too rough for us. The same for working in a construction firm. Not a place for a woman. ‘It’s not my attitude, it’s the attitude of other men,’ he’d said. So yes, one or two strapping lads would have suited him. Is this why he’s resentful of Becca? Because she’s given him everything else.
*
Becca’s straight out of the car and dealing with the caterers when we arrive. Ray tries and fails not to stumble as he gets out. Dad lights up a cigarette, the second he’s on the pavement. His movements are mechanical and he’s dead behind the eyes. I join him in a smoke. We don’t talk. What’s to talk about? The funeral hasn’t brought matters to an end. I don’t feel better knowing Edie’s lying next to Mum. Neither of them should be there.
Mrs McCann’s more than twenty years older than Mum would be, drifting around in a fog. Aveline’s, Natalie’s and Hannah’s lives are taken up with gossip and trivia. Edie would have done something with her life, something that mattered. Why are these people still here, when Mum and Edie are gone? I’m alone with Dad, and he is fading. How long until I lose him, too? And where are the answers to their deaths? I’ll never know if an unknown dark force pushed Mum to suicide, or if she was just another drink-driving statistic. And I’ve heard nothing more from Craven about the unknown man seen arguing with a schoolgirl.
I throw the cigarette into the gutter. Other cars start to arrive.
‘Come on, Dad,’ I say. ‘It’ll be over soon.’
The buffet looks like a tribute to the century in which Mum and Edie died, a blanket of beige: sausage rolls, vol-au-vents and cheese straws. I opt for a glass of wine instead. There’s a general acknowledgement that I’m to be pitied most. More than Dad. It irritates me. I don’t deserve it. Dad has suffered more. Seeing Aunt Lola hurts, she looks so much like Mum. A taunt from the dead of what I’ve lost. All these years Dad has had to look at me, an imperfect copy of Mum and Edie, not a consolation, just an unwanted reminder.
Besides, I don’t want their pity. What does it mean? What do they expect from me? Should I lock myself in the bathroom and weep or lie on the carpet wailing in front of them? I’ve had twenty years of weeping and I did it alone, and I’ll do the next twenty alone.
The other unspoken general acknowledgement I can see in their eyes is that I should be the one lying up in that coffin on the hill and my beautiful, brilliant twin should be standing here lost and inconsolable, drinking too much wine and avoiding the cheese flan.
When Mrs Stanley comes over to tell me how talented Edie was and that I must miss her, I lose patience and escape with a glass of warm wine. I hide by the outside of the conservatory and light a cigarette.
I hear the door slide open and Raquel comes to join me.
‘Can I have one?’
She points at my cigarette.
‘I didn’t know you smoked any more,’ I say.
‘I don’t,’ she says.
I hand her the packet along with the lighter.
‘Where’s Fleur?’ I ask.
‘Running around like a mad thing with your cousin’s kids. I guess they’re too young to know they’re meant to
be sad.’
‘Lucky them,’ I say.
‘I know what you mean,’ Raquel says. She peers back to the door before saying, ‘Look, is it OK if I talk to you now? I know it’s a funeral. I wouldn’t say anything if it wasn’t important.’
‘What’s wrong?’
I can’t think what’s got Raquel so rattled. She pauses to light the cigarette and takes a deep breath before blowing out a long stream of smoke.
‘There was a guy at the graveside; I’ve seen him before. It’s been a long time but I’m sure it’s the one I told you about. He used to wait outside if we went to McDonalds or something. It was weird. He followed her everywhere, spied on her, hung around outside her school, wouldn’t leave her alone. He followed her home once.’
My mouth goes dry. Raquel is waiting for me to say something. I feel sick.
‘Do you know him, Tess?’ she asks. ‘Your cousin called him Max.’
Chapter 34
Edie: November 1997
Edie was standing with Aveline and Char in the school corridor, when Michaela came up and said ‘hi’. Tess stood a little apart from the group, as she often did, always hovering, never joining in.
‘Hi,’ Edie said.
Aveline looked at her, perplexed.
‘Thanks for the CD. Got any more?’
Michaela had asked Edie about Northern soul and Edie had got Uncle Ray to burn a ‘Best of’ CD. They’d chatted about music and Michaela had introduced her to Isaac Hayes. It wasn’t as different from Uncle Ray’s Northern soul as she thought, but she didn’t like it as much. What she did like was knowing Michaela. She’d always felt a little on the outside at Joseph Amberley. Edie knew she and Tess were different. Most JAGS thought everyone who came from the Limewoods Estate were benefit scroungers and criminals. Edie never mentioned living there. She spoke in the right way and wore the right clothes, but she still didn’t fully fit in. Hanging out with Michaela meant she was a proper JAG.
‘There’s loads more. I’ll make a new CD at the weekend,’ Edie said.
‘Yeah? Good. Here, listen to this.’ Michaela passed her a disc. ‘Just a few good ones. See if you like it.’
‘Thanks.’
‘We’re going to lunch. Coming?’
‘Yeah. This is my sister, Tess.’
Michaela flashed her a smile. Edie tugged Tess’s arm and didn’t say anything to Aveline and Char as she followed. They would be jealous and want to know how she knew Michaela. It would teach them a lesson. Maybe they’d think twice before they organised something without her, or try to set her up with some stupid little boy at a party, to make her look like an idiot.
*
The cafeteria was filling up. Michaela took them to an empty table at the end. Edie followed her. Tess followed Edie.
Even though Edie was starving, she copied Michaela and chose a tiny portion of rice salad. Michaela killed her appetite with cigarettes. Edie would have to raid the vending machine later. Tess had a bag of crisps and an apple. No wonder she hardly grew.
‘My boyfriend’s going away this weekend,’ Michaela said. ‘He’s in London with the band.’
‘Are they getting signed?’
‘Not yet; soon, I think.’
‘Yeah right,’ Tess said.
Edie tensed. Michaela looked at Tess.
‘What year’s your sister in?’ she asked Edie as if the thought Tess could answer for herself was ridiculous.
‘The same one as Edie,’ Tess replied.
Michaela looked puzzled.
‘But you’re …’
‘We’re twins.’
‘You can’t be.’
‘We are,’ Tess said.
Michaela looked to Edie again for an explanation.
‘Non-identical,’ Edie said.
Tess opened her bag of crisps and began shoving handfuls in her mouth like a toddler, with broken pieces falling down her chin. Edie wanted to grab the bag off her. Why was she doing this? Michaela gave Tess a sideways glance then turned back to Edie.
‘Anyway, with Bob away, I thought we could have a girls’ night out at The Hub.’
‘I’d never get in,’ Edie said.
‘Sure you will. I’ll do your make-up and Vonnie knows the doorman.’
‘On Friday?’
‘Saturday,’ Michaela said.
‘Great.’
‘Not you, Tess.’ Michaela was smiling. ‘I’m sorry, I can only do so much with make-up and the doorman, I mean he can’t let anyone in who’s too obviously underage.’
‘Sounds crap anyway,’ Tess said through a mouthful of crisps.
‘Your sister’s so funny, Edie,’ Michaela said. ‘Why does she speak with that townie accent?’
‘I can answer for myself,’ Tess said.
‘What did she say?’ Michaela asked.
Tess was staring at Edie, daring her to speak. Another group of Michaela’s friends arrived at the table and began discussing The Hub, saving Edie the trouble.
*
‘You’re not going are you?’ Tess said on their way home.
‘Of course I am.’
‘Dad won’t let you.’
‘I won’t tell him,’ Edie said. She stopped walking. ‘And neither will you.’
They both knew Tess wouldn’t break that sibling code.
‘I don’t like her,’ Tess said. ‘She spoke about me like I wasn’t there.’
‘She was trying to be nice.’
‘And said I couldn’t go to that club.’
‘You said you didn’t want to go.’
‘What am I supposed to do on Saturday?’
‘It’s one night, Tess.’
God! it was so exhausting being a twin.
Chapter 35
Tess: July 2018
Raquel’s face is a mixture of excitement and fear, which changes to confusion when I don’t react.
‘Tess?’ she says.
‘I know Max, Raquel, and I know he knew Edie.’
‘I don’t understand, how do you know him? Why is he here?’
‘Max and I were together until a couple of months ago.’
Raquel’s mouth falls open.
‘How could you, after what he did to Edie?’
‘He didn’t do anything to her.’
‘He terrified her,’ she says.
‘He hardly knew her.’
‘He was obsessed with her and now I find out he’s with you. He frightens me, Tess. You need to be careful. He shouldn’t be here.’
I think of my chance meeting with Max in a North London bar, miles from home, and hear Vilas’s words, ‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’ He was right. For Max, Edie being my sister was not an additional link to bind our relationship but its foundation.
My head feels heavy and my legs weaken. I have to lean back against the wall and put my hands on my knees. Raquel steps forwards and touches my arm.
‘You didn’t know?’ she says.
‘No,’ I whisper.
How could I not know? At some level I think I did. Smaller, plainer, less academic and four minutes younger, I was always second to Edie. A poor replica, but good enough for Max when the real thing was unavailable.
‘You need to tell the police. It’s creepy, weird. You don’t think he…?’
‘Think he what?’
Raquel spins round. Max is standing behind her.
He’s glaring and walking towards us. Raquel draws herself into the wall, to create as much distance between them as possible. Max stands a few inches from me then turns to Raquel. I try to stand upright.
‘Think he what?’ He spits out each word. ‘I remember you. It’s Raquel, isn’t it? Is that what you told Edie about me? That I was creepy and weird. Is that why she wouldn’t see me?’
‘No,’ Raquel says.
‘Why then?’
Raquel is no longer the bold girl, swaggering up to lads and demanding cigarettes. She shrinks into the wall.
‘Max, stop it,’ I say.
�
�It’s people like her…’
He’s still glaring at her.
‘Max.’
I move to stand between him and Raquel.
‘You should go now, Raquel,’ I say.
Raquel slides from behind me and goes towards the door into the conservatory.
‘Yeah, go, and keep going,’ Max says.
I keep my eyes fixed on Max’s face.
‘I’ll call you,’ Raquel says.
The door bangs shut. Max and I are alone.
‘It was you, the boy who followed her home, wasn’t it?’
‘And that makes me a murderer? It’s not surprising Raquel believes it, when even my own girlfriend—’
‘I’m not your girlfriend,’ I say.
‘No. No, you’re not.’
He shakes his head.
‘What am I supposed to think?’ I say. ‘You pretend you only knew Edie in passing and now I find out you were stalking her.’
‘Stalking?’ he says. ‘It’s stalking now? I was a teenage boy with a crush. That’s all. Nothing weird, nothing creepy. Just a normal, loved-up teenager.’
‘Following her around, spying on her movements. Are you the reason she started leaving school by the back?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Do you know who her boyfriend was?’
‘No.’
‘But she had one?’
He hesitates.
‘I don’t know.’
‘You’re lying.’
He turns from me slightly and takes a breath.
‘Tess, I would never have done anything to harm her, do you understand? I really liked her, cared about her. You don’t know how it was for me when she disappeared. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t tell anyone. Not my friends, not my dad, definitely not my mum. I know it’s nothing to what you went through, but at least you could acknowledge it. You had a right to suffer. You weren’t alone.’
His brows contract, the pain spread across his face. I want to feel sorry for him, but I can’t. His betrayal runs too deep.
‘It wasn’t a chance meeting between us in that bar, was it?’
Someone You Know Page 18