by S. B. Hayes
I stared at the workings of the car as if they made perfect sense to me. ‘Wonder if she’ll leave me alone now and I can forget all the stupid baby-swap theories and about Mum harbouring dark sinister secrets.’
Luke stopped what he was doing and faced me squarely. ‘You think Genevieve’s done? That she has everything she set out to get?’
‘She has Merlin. He was the prize.’
Luke shut his car bonnet and his face seemed creased with worry. ‘Maybe Merlin’s just a distraction in all this. Maybe you’re the real prize. Just don’t stop looking behind you, Kat.’
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
The most incredible thing happened – Genevieve didn’t turn up at college. Apparently she’d been stricken with a bad case of tonsillitis and could hardly speak, which was just about the best news ever. When Nat told me I tried not to look elated and probably failed miserably. It was strange getting used to the fact that I could get up in the morning not full of dread, sit through my lessons without her horrible eyes staring at me and have lunch without watching every word I said. The first day she was away was wonderful, the second day bliss, and by the third day I could have danced for joy. It made me remember how great life was before Genevieve came along. It was hard to believe it was less than three months ago.
Hannah, Nat and I decided to do some Christmas shopping on Thursday night when all the stores in town stayed open late. It was just like the old days – queuing for the bus and laughing at something and nothing, in this case an old lady whose lapdog tried to lift up Hannah’s skirt with its nose, then teasing each other about our different tastes in clothes. We jumped from the bus, fighting our way through the crowds to get into serious shopping mode. We hit the department stores first and I bought a blouse for Mum in a gorgeous lilac colour, remembering all the years I’d had to get her a nightdress or dressing gown because that was all she seemed to wear. Nat was pretty boring and settled on slippers for her dad and perfume for her mum, while Hannah just window-shopped, claiming she never bought anything until the last minute, otherwise it wasn’t truly festive.
In less than an hour Nat was weak with hunger and dragged us both into a pizza restaurant for a megalarge with five toppings. I was fascinated by the decor. The theme was 1950s diner, with red leatherette booths in a half-moon shape, an old-fashioned jukebox and the waitresses in ankle socks and flared skirts. One of the waiters had a giant greasy quiff and wore a Teddy-boy suit in an electric shade of blue. I kept expecting them all to break into song just like in a musical, with some jiving thrown in.
‘It’s a pity Genevieve couldn’t make it,’ Hannah mused.
‘It is a shame,’ I agreed, determined not to freeze every time her name was mentioned. ‘Genevieve loves shopping for clothes. We both spotted a gorgeous evening dress in a charity shop, but she got to it first.’
‘Did she buy it?’ Nat asked curiously.
‘No, it needed lots of repair and she changed her mind.’
‘Why didn’t you buy it?’ Hannah demanded. ‘You could stitch just about anything and make a great job of it.’
I shrugged. ‘I sort of switched off after Genevieve had tried it on. She looked so good.’
For some reason Hannah wouldn’t let up on the subject of the dress. ‘You look as good as she does, better even.’
I gave a doubtful laugh. ‘Genevieve’s bound to change her mind and get it for the Christmas Ball.’
‘She won’t need a dress,’ Nat answered quickly, and her cheeks turned pink. ‘I-I mean she’ll probably … just make something.’
‘There’s something you’re not telling us, isn’t there?’ Hannah challenged.
‘There isn’t. Really there isn’t.’
‘I’ve known you since reception class,’ she teased. ‘Come on – spill the beans.’
Nat suddenly lost all interest in her pizza and glumly pushed away her plate and took a long drink of cola. ‘I promised not to say anything.’
Hannah pointed to me and then to herself. ‘But we’re your best friends. We won’t breathe a word.’
Nat hesitated for a few seconds more and I had the feeling she didn’t need much persuading. ‘OK … it’s Genevieve. She probably isn’t staying around here much longer.’
My knife slipped off my plate and fell to the floor with a loud reverberating clatter. ‘Not staying? Are you serious?’
‘When did she tell you?’ Hannah asked.
Nat looked up to the ceiling as if trying to recall. ‘Er … at the weekend.’
‘What brought this on?’ I managed to whisper.
‘She said this town is really boring and she feels closed in. I don’t think she’s actually ill at all but making plans for her escape.’
‘Where did she say she’ll go?’
Nat spoke importantly. ‘She talked about another place … that’s better than anywhere she’s ever been.’
I was having trouble taking in this news and actually massaged my temples as if my head hurt. ‘And she didn’t say where this other place was? Abroad or in this country?’
‘No … but I think she’ll hitch around the world, selling her jewellery and living out of a backpack. She’s too much of a free spirit for around here.’
This dramatic change of heart was so bizarre – Genevieve had claimed that she couldn’t let me go, yet now, suddenly, she apparently intended to leave, and leave quickly. Maybe she had been working towards something and this was it – to leave as abruptly as she had arrived. For a split second I felt almost envious at the picture Nat painted of Genevieve being such a free spirit, but it didn’t last.
‘I don’t know what to say, Nat … it’s so sudden.’
‘Not for Genevieve,’ she stressed. ‘She can’t wait to leave.’
Hannah frowned. ‘What about the people she’s staying with?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nat admitted. ‘But she did say she wouldn’t be going alone.’
I resisted asking how Genevieve could just leave Merlin like this and took a great interest in my plate instead. The pizza tasted fantastic after this news. I polished off my own and Nat’s leftovers. When Nat nipped to the ladies’, Hannah looked at me a little strangely.
‘That’s a turn-up, isn’t it, Katy?’
‘Definitely unexpected,’ I answered without emotion.
Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not sure I believe it. Genevieve is great, but a bit … unpredictable.’
I groaned inwardly. So blinded by hope, it hadn’t occurred to me that Genevieve could be lying. ‘Maybe she wants us to find out because … it’s just a joke.’
‘Nat believed her,’ Hannah pointed out. ‘Anyway … not much of a joke, is it?’
My joy had turned to despair. I crossed my fingers on both hands and put them behind my back as Nat returned, whispering a silent prayer for it to be true, for Genevieve to disappear out of our lives as suddenly as she’d arrived. We left the restaurant and walked back towards the bus stop, dodging the sea of people clogging the pavements. All the adults seemed really fed up and hostile, weighed down with bags, their faces etched with tension. I wondered if Christmas shopping stopped being fun when you reached a certain age. We passed the charity shop that Genevieve and I had visited together, and the window display had been changed. Two dummies were dressed in hideous Christmas outfits – a gold sequinned dress with puffed sleeves and a black velvet number with an enormous calf-length skirt and tartan sash.
‘Another twenty-five years,’ Nat joked, ‘and Katy will be wearing this to the golf-club dinner.’
Hannah sniggered. ‘Or the Women’s Institute ball.’
I pinched them both on the arm. ‘I’ll never dress old even when I’m sixty. I’ll turn my crimplene dress into a mini and stomp around in Doc Martens.’
Nat stuck out her tongue. ‘The granny from hell.’
‘They had really cool retro stuff last time,’ I said. ‘Come in and I’ll show you.’
It looked as though the shop was j
ust about to close; two elderly ladies were emptying the till and counting the takings. I quickly flicked through the rails, searching for the mermaid dress, but it was so distinctive that I immediately knew it wasn’t here.
‘Someone must have bought it.’ I sighed with disappointment.
A voice called over. ‘I knew you’d come back for that dress after you tried it on … I put it in the storeroom. It shouldn’t have been on display at all – it was far too damaged.’
‘I didn’t try it on,’ I answered peevishly. ‘It was the girl I was with who did.’
I recognized the assistant now, the woman whose hair was so stiff it wouldn’t have moved in a force-ten gale. She walked over to me and peered hard, lowering her voice. ‘If you don’t want your friends to know, that’s all right. It’ll be our little secret.’
My voice, in contrast, became louder. ‘Really … it wasn’t me. I was with another girl … medium height, curly red hair, slim and pretty.’
The woman pursed her lips. ‘I do remember the other girl, but it was you who wore the dress. I might be old, but I wouldn’t forget someone like that … I’m looking at her right now.’
I stretched out my arm and pointed with one finger. ‘No. I stood over there and watched.’
‘If you say so.’ She laughed, and I knew she was just humouring me. She disappeared into the back of the shop and I told myself it was stupid to get annoyed about this. She was old and could have poor eyesight or just a really bad memory. What did it matter if she confused me with Genevieve? When she emerged again I sullenly took the dress from her.
Nat came towards me with a puzzled expression. ‘What’s up?’
‘That lady got me mixed up with Genevieve,’ I muttered. ‘Even when I pointed out that Genevieve was slim and really pretty with curly red hair.’
‘But … you’ve just described yourself,’ Nat said slowly.
I swivelled round. ‘Me? I’m not slim … or even vaguely pretty.’
She looked at me oddly. ‘If you say so.’
Hannah stroked the dress lovingly as if it was a pet dog, and then pushed me towards the changing room. It was freezing in here and I stood with my arms wrapped around myself, reluctant to try the dress on because it had fitted Genevieve not me, and we were completely different shapes. It took ages to climb out of my clothes, shivering as my flesh erupted in goosebumps. The shop was old and damp and I could see mould spores on the ripped orange wallpaper. My shoes stuck to the ugly floral carpet.
‘You’ll have to come out sometime,’ Hannah called impatiently.
The mirror inside the changing room was cracked and I had several different reflections of myself, like something from a Hitchcock movie. I took a tentative step from behind the curtain while Hannah indulgently fixed my straps and led me towards the shop mirror. With my arms by my sides the tear wasn’t even apparent.
‘Katy, you shall go to the ball,’ she announced with a mock fanfare on a pretend trumpet.
I was rooted to the spot, gazing at my reflection as though I’d seen a ghost. The dress could have been made for me. It fitted perfectly, and the person staring back didn’t look like me at all – it was a better version.
I closed my eyes, waited a moment and then opened them again, but the image was still the same. ‘This is weird. I look different. Why do I look so different?’
‘We’ve noticed a change,’ Hannah answered kindly, covering my shoulders with her coat to stop my trembling. ‘You seem to have kind of … blossomed.’
Something was happening that I didn’t understand. I tried to voice my confusion. ‘That lady mistook me for Genevieve. I mean … I thought it was strange, but now I barely recognize myself.’
Nat seemed genuinely perplexed and twitched her nose like a rabbit. ‘If Genevieve looks like you, then you must look like her … mustn’t you?’
There was a catch in my voice. ‘Yes, but I thought she was copying me, and now … now … I don’t know any more.’
‘Maybe … all this time … you were the real stalker.’ Nat grinned.
I tried to smile, but my face refused to cooperate. At that moment Hannah decided to intervene and took charge. She helped me get out of the dress and paid for it while I gratefully slipped back into my layers of clothing. She handed the bag over to me and winked.
‘We should meet up on Saturday and try on our clothes for the ball. We’ll do each other’s make-up and hair and stuff.’
I nodded with forced enthusiasm even though that only gave me a few days to attempt a repair. I was quiet on the bus all the way home and watched the drops of condensation running, with steady speed, from the top of the glass to the bottom, trying to get rid of the churning feeling inside. All this time I’d thought I was running from Genevieve. Had I really been drawn to her like a moth to a flame? I rested my head against the cool pane, fearful that I didn’t know what was real any more.
Organ music is playing, wafting down those winding stairs, and it sounds like a wedding march, but my nails are clawing at the banister, leaving gouges in the wood like a wild animal would. Genevieve is waiting, as always, a secret smile on her face. She is holding a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful ivory dress for me to try on. It’s delicate and intricate lace over a satin bodice. I walk into it as though it’s a second skin, but the dress is ice cold and straight away I want to take it off. I pull at the fabric, but it’s stuck to me, growing ever colder on my flesh. The smell in my nostrils isn’t just damp any more, it’s decay and rot, so strong it makes me gag. Genevieve urges me to look at myself in the mirror and I have no choice but to obey. I’m not wearing a wedding dress any longer – it’s a shroud. I’m cold and still, my cheeks pallid and my lips blue. The music playing is actually a dirge. It’s my funeral but I’m not dead. I’m trapped in a paralysed body, unable to speak or move. I’m about to be buried alive and Genevieve is going to watch.
It’s dawn before I dare to close my eyes again.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Katy, could I talk to you somewhere away from college? About midday if you’re free? X
I stared at my phone for ages, annoyed because my whole body tingled as I read Merlin’s text. But it was tinged with resentment – I refused to be summoned as if we were still involved with each other. My reply was coolly dismissive.
Sorry Merlin, going to lunch with Nat and Hannah, maybe some other time.
He replied immediately.
How about La Tasse? 12.30 X
Full marks for persistence. I ended up agreeing out of curiosity. We hadn’t been alone together since the episode with the painting, and I couldn’t imagine what he needed to say. I was glad that I’d washed my hair that morning and made a serious effort to coordinate my clothes into a multilayered chicness rather than total grunge.
A long wait at the level crossing made me fashionably late and I looked around the cafe for a moment. There was a pang somewhere deep inside as my eyes rested on Merlin – he was by the window in the same booth we’d first sat in together. That already seemed like a lifetime ago. People had stared at us then because we were so newly in love, but now no one gave us a second glance. I slid into the seat opposite, feeling as though the ghost of me was still lingering there.
‘You look great, Katy.’
‘Thanks.’
I pointed to his laptop, which was open on the table. ‘Homework?’
‘Just web-design stuff.’
I knew my body language was stiff. If felt as if there was a coat hanger wedged in my back. ‘How’s Genevieve?’
‘Her tonsils are still swollen.’
Cue the sympathetic face. ‘Hope she’ll be better for Christmas.’
I watched Merlin carefully but there was no reaction from him. If Genevieve intended to leave, then he didn’t know about it. But why would she tell Nat and not him?
He drained the dregs from his cup. ‘I’ll order another, shall I? And one for you?’
I was friendly but firm. ‘Merlin, we
could make small talk all night and it’ll cost a fortune in coffee. Why did you ask me here?’
He nodded hesitantly and studied his hands. ‘Katy, I have to sort things out between us … Ever since that … last time … we haven’t cleared the air.’
I tried to sound dispassionate and in control. ‘We don’t have to do this. There’s no need. We’ll still be friends, without complications.’
‘It’s not just us,’ he pleaded. ‘What about everyone else? It won’t be the same if you and I don’t … get things out in the open.’
He was right. It would be awkward for Nat and Hannah if we didn’t move on from being a couple.
‘OK,’ I agreed. ‘You first.’
‘I have to explain about … the painting.’
‘There’s nothing to explain,’ I answered, hurt quickly rising despite my good intentions.
He closed his eyes. ‘I keep seeing your face when I showed it to you … It was awful.’
I ran my tongue over my teeth as if there was something nasty on them. ‘And why do you think I was so annoyed, Merlin?’
‘I think I made a … mistake painting your … eyes,’ he mumbled.
‘Not just the eyes,’ I snapped, as my anger bubbled over. ‘There wasn’t much of me at all in your painting.’
‘You’re still there,’ he insisted.
Just the remnants of me, a ghostly shadow, I reflected bitterly. There was nothing else to do but confront him. ‘I think you know whose features dominate that canvas.’
He wouldn’t look at me. ‘You mean Genevieve’s?’
My voice came out weirdly stilted and formal. ‘Yes, Merlin, I certainly do mean Genevieve’s.’
Merlin scratched his chin and I could tell he was struggling to find his words. ‘It was of you, Katy. I swear. You and only you.’
‘That’s not what I saw.’
‘But that’s what I’m trying to tell you … It wasn’t of Genevieve … not at first anyway.’
I found myself repeating her words and throwing them back at him. ‘It couldn’t have changed at the last minute.’
