‘That night … You said you thought Lucy was me, but that wasn’t the case at all, was it, Callum?’ He chews his lip and I know he’s considering whether to be honest with me, whether it might send me over the edge again. I place my hand on his. ‘I need to know the truth now. I was hiding from it before, but it’s better to face up to it. I’m not angry with her. I’ve never been angry with her. But please tell me the truth. Were you in love with Lucy?’
He shakes his head. ‘Oh, Abi. Of course I wasn’t in love with her. Not in the way you think. Your crazy jealousy always gnawed at our relationship. Lucy was my friend, that’s all.’
A flare of anger flickers inside me, but just as quickly it’s gone. He’s right, I know he’s right. I can’t lie to myself about it any longer. But I take my hand away from his and cup my glass.
‘I know I was jealous—’ I begin.
‘I liked that you were jealous,’ interrupts Callum. ‘At first, anyway. You were possessive, but it made me feel as though you loved me. But after a while it got tiring.’
I lift my eyes to look at him. ‘You can’t blame me for being jealous. Before you met me, you went out with Lucy.’
‘And how many times did I have to tell you that it was for two weeks, Abi? Two bloody weeks, months before I met you. You know that we only went on a couple of dates, but it came to nothing. After that she met Luke. We didn’t have much in common. Whereas with you …’ He lets his voice trail off. He doesn’t have to say it. We were together for four years, we shared everything. We had a passion for the same music, the same films, and each other.
‘The night of the Halloween party. You kissed her, Callum.’
He sighs. ‘I thought she was you,’ he says gently. ‘You were both dressed as witches. It was dark. You were identical twins, Abi. I kissed her thinking she was you. I told you all this at the time.’ I can hear a touch of exasperation in his voice and I think back to our relationship, to all of the times when he had to reassure me that he didn’t fancy one of my friends, or didn’t still harbour feelings for Lucy, that I was the one he wanted to be with. I can see how it must have been tiring. It must have been exhausting.
When I saw Callum kissing my sister that night, I pulled them apart with a ferociousness, a strength, I never knew I possessed and stormed out of the party with both of them following behind me, protesting their innocence. But I hadn’t believed them. I hadn’t wanted to believe them, I was so consumed with jealousy. Luke had been right when he made that statement to the police saying my judgement was impaired when my car went off the road. I had been screaming at Lucy. I can’t bear to think how I accused her of fancying my boyfriend. Even Luke had told me I was talking nonsense, but I had been on a roll. All my insecurities bubbled over and spewed out of me. The last thing I remember before I lost control of the car was Nia telling me to calm down. Calm down, she had said. If I had remained calm, we might never have crashed. If Callum hadn’t kissed my sister, my last words to her wouldn’t have been vicious ones and she probably wouldn’t have died. So many ifs. We were so close, the five of us, we did everything together, and in one night everything changed for ever.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say in a small voice. My jealousy cost you your life, Lucy. A tear snakes down my cheek and I don’t bother to brush it away.
Callum grabs my hand in both of his. ‘Abi, you finished with me and refused to speak to me after the accident. I know you blamed me, but it was a stupid mistake that I wish I could take back.’ He lowers his voice. ‘I would do anything to take it back.’
I sniff. ‘I know, I wanted someone else to take it out on, but really I blamed myself. I still blame myself.’
‘Abi, you can’t blame yourself. It was an accident.’
I shake my head. I will never believe it wasn’t my fault, regardless of what anyone else says. ‘After the accident, my head was a mess. The truth was, I suppose I was always a little jealous of Lucy. I always felt she was everything that I wasn’t. She was cleverer, nicer, easier to be with. I always joked with her that she was my better half. She denied it, of course, but she was.’
‘Listen, Abs, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a twin, or how it must feel now. But you have to know, I never thought Lucy was your better half. Lucy was Lucy. And you are you. And I loved you. Do you believe me? About that night? It’s important to me that you do.’
‘I believe you,’ I say truthfully. We sit in silence for a while and then he asks about my life now. I tell him about moving to Bath, about meeting Beatrice, and Ben.
‘You know, they’re twins too. It seems destined somehow, that I was meant to meet them, although …’ He raises an eyebrow to prompt me to continue. ‘Beatrice is very over-protective of Ben. She seemed to want to be my friend at first, but since Ben and I got together …’ I glance at him to gauge his reaction; if it bothers him that I’m with someone else, he doesn’t let it show. ‘Well, Beatrice has distanced herself from me. And then I thought I saw her yesterday.’
‘Here? On the Isle of Wight?’
‘Yes.’ I reveal everything, about Janice, my post-traumatic stress disorder, my paranoia, but I can’t bring myself to tell him about the bracelet. ‘So I know, deep down, that it couldn’t have been her. It makes no sense.’
Callum nods, gently squeezing my hand. ‘Don’t let jealousy or paranoia cloud your judgement or ruin what you have with Ben.’ His next words hang in the air, unspoken. Like you did with us.
They fall through the door, laughing and windswept. Beatrice can smell the sea salt on his hair and she thinks how she’s missed this, their easiness with each other. It’s dusk, her favourite time of day in the summer. The house is quiet with no sign of Pam or Cass and she’s relieved that she’s able to have him all to herself for a while longer.
‘Thanks for today, Bea.’ He pushes the door closed with the sole of his trainer and throws his car keys in the direction of the hallway table where they clatter into a ceramic dish. ‘You always know how to cheer me up.’
‘We deserved a treat.’ She reaches up and squeezes his upper arm affectionately, marvelling at his strong, toned muscles. ‘Now go and put the kettle on, I need to pop upstairs.’
‘You’re very bossy,’ he jokes as he strides down the hallway. She waits until he’s rounding the steps that lead to the kitchen, then she kicks off her sandals and dumps her canvas bag with its bucket and spade, suncream and Evian, and races up the two flights of stairs before she has a chance to change her mind. She knows he will come looking for her soon.
Abi’s room is immaculate. The new duvet cover that Beatrice suspects is from the White Company – I thought you had no money, Abi? – has been pulled tight across the bed, the walls are now painted a pretty lavender and the smell of Jodie has been replaced by something floral, familiar. Four books are stacked neatly on her night stand, next to a silver framed photograph of Abi and Lucy, smiling, tanned, their arms around each other’s necks. It’s the photo from the newspaper cutting, but in colour instead of black and white. Beatrice picks it up and examines it, trying to see the variations in their faces, but it’s like a game of spot the difference. Lucy’s eyebrows are more arched, as if she’s had them threaded, a pink gloss staining her lips, her hair neater, straighter, and it’s obvious that Lucy took more care in