The Pleasures of Autumn by Evie Hunter

that her sister was alive.
    Gabriel sat up quickly and took the glass from her, setting it down on the table beside his own. He licked the spilt wine from her hand before pulling her into his arms. ‘
Mon Dieu
,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’
    ‘I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell anyone. It was years before I went to therapy. Granny and Uncle Tim were great, but who would believe a child? There was no proof that Roro ever existed. The other people from the commune scattered. No one remembered her. How could a child just vanish like that, and no one noticed or cared?’
    ‘Did you try to find her?’ His voice was gentle, but Sinead couldn’t look at him.
    ‘I couldn’t. I didn’t know my dad’s full name. Only that he was Peter. Not a lot to go on.’ She shrugged. ‘Father unknown.’
    She gave up the battle against tears and sobbed into Gabriel’s shirt. After a few minutes he pulled out another tissue and used it to wipe her face. ‘
Petit chou
, what am I going to do with you?’ He tossed the tissue when it was wet.
    Sinead sniffed and searched her bag for yet another tissue and found the printed pages from the internet café. ‘She has some connection with this club. Can you help me?’
    Gabriel took the pages from her and shook his head. A slow smile spread over his face. ‘I know it well,
chérie
.’
    ‘Then let’s go.’
    He looked at her doubtfully. ‘It’s going to be quiet on a Monday night. And you won’t get in dressed like that.’
    He fingered her shapeless, long-sleeved T-shirt with distaste.
    ‘I can’t wait. I’m on bail and the clock is ticking. The longer I wait, the harder it will be to find my sister. You still have my Lottie clothes, don’t you? Surely there’s something there that’s suitable.’
    It felt like the longest day of her life, but she couldn’t stop now.
    Gabriel led her into the night air and to an old building on the other side of the courtyard. They walked up two flights of narrow stone steps on the outside of the building, then he unlocked a green door leading into a tiny studio apartment.
    It had become a store room for her stage costumes. Sinead remembered the images from the Cirque Noirwebsite. The costumes were a bit more hardcore than what she usually wore on stage. Did her sister wear clothes like this too? She had devoured books and articles about twins and knew that they often had similar interests, but this was unnerving.
    The studio was crammed with boxes containing shoes, headdresses, masks – all the trappings of seven years of performances. She really should sell them, but that would be like saying goodbye to Lottie and she wasn’t ready to do that yet.
    ‘Hey, do you remember these?’ Gabriel produced a tissue-wrapped bundle from one of the boxes.
    When she opened it she found a pair of purple sequined nipple covers. Sinead smiled. ‘That audition was the first time we met. Remember?’
    ‘How could I forget?’
    In the communal dressing room, another contestant had swopped Sinead’s pastie glue for eyelash glue. The pasties had stayed in place until mid-way through her routine, when one had flown off and struck the stage director in the eye. Mortified, she had left the stage, vowing never to audition again.
    Gabriel was the one who had returned the errant pastie to her outside the theatre. They had gone for coffee and had been friends ever since.
    The studio was so full, Sinead would have had no idea where to start looking, but after a few minutes Gabriel gave a triumphant cry. He found the right box and carried it back to the apartment. Sinead knelt on the floor and delved into it. The black catsuit had been made to measure. ‘I hope it still fits me,’ she said ruefully.
    ‘Mmm.’ Gabriel sounded uncertain. ‘Now that you mention it, your derrière does look a little more luscious than before.’
    ‘Bastard.’ She threw a studded glove at him. He laughed as he caught