myself.’
‘Would Lucy want you to do this to yourself?’ she says, her voice sharp, and when I look up I see a glint of anger in her eyes. ‘Because I know that if it was me, if Ben had caused my death by accident, I wouldn’t want him to go on punishing himself for the rest of his life.’ She takes my hand and squeezes it, and in a softer voice she adds, ‘I would want him to be happy, Abi. I would want him to live.’
I respect her opinion the most; after all, she can understand, being a twin herself. But she doesn’t know the full story and, thankfully, that is something only the five of us who were in the car that night could ever know.
I’m sitting alone on the sofa when Ben walks in holding a glass of red wine. Beatrice has disappeared to the kitchen with Cass to fetch some wine bottles and glasses. The sun is still burning bright in the sky and the smell of cut grass floats in through the open windows and, after the stifling heat of the day, a welcome breeze.
Ben frowns when he notices me sitting alone, an expression I can’t read on his face, almost as if he’s seen a ghost. His eyes run over the Alice Temperley dress I’m wearing. ‘Is that yours?’ he says as he takes a seat next to me. He’s sitting so close that his bare knee touches mine. I pull the green silk further down my thighs self-consciously.
‘It’s Beatrice’s. I don’t have any summer clothes with me, I wasn’t expecting this heatwave.’ I laugh in an effort to dispel the tension that emanates from him and it puzzles me. Why would Ben care what I’m wearing?
He turns to me with an urgency that surprises me. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this – and don’t get me wrong, I love my sister – but please, Abi, don’t let her turn you into her clone.’
My cheeks grow hot. ‘I’m only borrowing some clothes, Ben. It’s no big deal.’
He looks as if he wants to say more, but takes a sip of his wine instead. I fiddle with my hands in my lap, apprehensive about meeting more people that I don’t know. It seems both Beatrice, and Ben, have a wide group of friends. I envy them that.
Ben grabs my fidgeting hands to still them. ‘It will be fun, Abi. Don’t worry so much,’ he says reassuringly, as if reading my mind.
I open my mouth to reply but I don’t get the chance as I’m interrupted by a loud, brash voice and Monty appears in the doorway, blocking the light from the hall. One friendly face, at least. He has a bottle of red wine in his huge paw which he places on the walnut coffee table.
‘Monty!’ Ben gets up and smacks the larger man on the back, guiding him into the room where he pours his bulk into one of Beatrice’s elegant Louis XIV chairs. Ben sits back down next to me, his knee brushing mine, sending little shockwaves through my body.
‘Thanks for last night, Ben old man,’ says Monty, then he turns to me. ‘I needed some advice about my computer and there’s no one better at technology than Ben here.’
Ben shakes his head modestly. ‘You’re a technophobe, Monty.’
The doorbell downstairs reverberates through the house and minutes later Beatrice appears, clutching some glasses with one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Three men and two women follow her into the room.
‘Abi, this is Grace and Archie,’ she says placing the glasses and wine next to the bottle that Monty brought over. The girl is small, dark, and pretty while the man is stocky with a crop of red hair and freckles. Ben leaps up from the sofa to greet Archie and he and Monty stand around chatting while Grace perches awkwardly on the sofa.
‘And this is Maria, Edward, and Niall.’ Maria, who looks to be in her late forties with thick dark expressive eyebrows and a Roman nose is resplendent in a voluminous kaftan. Edward and Niall look about my age, but while Edward is short, mousy and nondescript, I can’t take my eyes off Niall. He’s almost as tall as Ben with a similarly wiry, firm body but instead of
‘Would Lucy want you to do this to yourself?’ she says, her voice sharp, and when I look up I see a glint of anger in her eyes. ‘Because I know that if it was me, if Ben had caused my death by accident, I wouldn’t want him to go on punishing himself for the rest of his life.’ She takes my hand and squeezes it, and in a softer voice she adds, ‘I would want him to be happy, Abi. I would want him to live.’
I respect her opinion the most; after all, she can understand, being a twin herself. But she doesn’t know the full story and, thankfully, that is something only the five of us who were in the car that night could ever know.
I’m sitting alone on the sofa when Ben walks in holding a glass of red wine. Beatrice has disappeared to the kitchen with Cass to fetch some wine bottles and glasses. The sun is still burning bright in the sky and the smell of cut grass floats in through the open windows and, after the stifling heat of the day, a welcome breeze.
Ben frowns when he notices me sitting alone, an expression I can’t read on his face, almost as if he’s seen a ghost. His eyes run over the Alice Temperley dress I’m wearing. ‘Is that yours?’ he says as he takes a seat next to me. He’s sitting so close that his bare knee touches mine. I pull the green silk further down my thighs self-consciously.
‘It’s Beatrice’s. I don’t have any summer clothes with me, I wasn’t expecting this heatwave.’ I laugh in an effort to dispel the tension that emanates from him and it puzzles me. Why would Ben care what I’m wearing?
He turns to me with an urgency that surprises me. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this – and don’t get me wrong, I love my sister – but please, Abi, don’t let her turn you into her clone.’
My cheeks grow hot. ‘I’m only borrowing some clothes, Ben. It’s no big deal.’
He looks as if he wants to say more, but takes a sip of his wine instead. I fiddle with my hands in my lap, apprehensive about meeting more people that I don’t know. It seems both Beatrice, and Ben, have a wide group of friends. I envy them that.
Ben grabs my fidgeting hands to still them. ‘It will be fun, Abi. Don’t worry so much,’ he says reassuringly, as if reading my mind.
I open my mouth to reply but I don’t get the chance as I’m interrupted by a loud, brash voice and Monty appears in the doorway, blocking the light from the hall. One friendly face, at least. He has a bottle of red wine in his huge paw which he places on the walnut coffee table.
‘Monty!’ Ben gets up and smacks the larger man on the back, guiding him into the room where he pours his bulk into one of Beatrice’s elegant Louis XIV chairs. Ben sits back down next to me, his knee brushing mine, sending little shockwaves through my body.
‘Thanks for last night, Ben old man,’ says Monty, then he turns to me. ‘I needed some advice about my computer and there’s no one better at technology than Ben here.’
Ben shakes his head modestly. ‘You’re a technophobe, Monty.’
The doorbell downstairs reverberates through the house and minutes later Beatrice appears, clutching some glasses with one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Three men and two women follow her into the room.
‘Abi, this is Grace and Archie,’ she says placing the glasses and wine next to the bottle that Monty brought over. The girl is small, dark, and pretty while the man is stocky with a crop of red hair and freckles. Ben leaps up from the sofa to greet Archie and he and Monty stand around chatting while Grace perches awkwardly on the sofa.
‘And this is Maria, Edward, and Niall.’ Maria, who looks to be in her late forties with thick dark expressive eyebrows and a Roman nose is resplendent in a voluminous kaftan. Edward and Niall look about my age, but while Edward is short, mousy and nondescript, I can’t take my eyes off Niall. He’s almost as tall as Ben with a similarly wiry, firm body but instead of
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