Replica

by Lexi Revellian

  He kept his eyes on the road. “I need you so Beth will be safe. So I can prove the duplication happened.”

  I’ve always thought it must be really insulting to be one of those children born in order to save the life of an older sibling who required stem cells or bone marrow; in second place from pre-conception. This was worse. There was an edge to my voice as I said, “But when you didn’t need me, you were happy to hand me over to be experimented on, right?”

  “It was my job. And you’re not the real Beth.” He gestured at the passenger seat. “She is. And anyway … you’re different. Your personalities aren’t the same. Something must have happened in the duplicator. She’s … gentler than you, less aggressive …”

  My spine stiffened and I bumped my head on the car’s roof. “You’re unbelievable! Quite apart from how aggressive you are, going round beating people up all the time, how can you say that? It’s like you’ve put us in neat little compartments – good Beth and bad Beth, when a couple of weeks ago we were the same person. If you don’t like me, then you don’t like her. Deal with it. I’ve just told you she had a go at Pearson. Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe if you’d chased her and twisted her wrist and kidnapped her, she might have got a tiny bit aggressive with you too?”

  His eyes slid in my direction. “Fine, I’ll admit it. If you concede that in her place, you’d think I was hot. Maybe even fall in love with me.”

  Huh. Nothing was said after that for a while.

  When we got to King’s Cross, Nick drove off the main road into a maze of side streets and stopped the car. He’d been darting concerned glances at Beth from time to time the whole journey, which made me think a little more kindly of him. Seeing the two of them was like watching myself with a lover I hadn’t had … strange. She was still out cold.

  His brows drew together. “I can’t take her to a hotel like this.”

  “Could we go to my – her flat? A sort of double bluff, they’d never think we’d go back.” A longing for home swept through me. I could pick up some proper clothes, see Inky Pink … I worried for the first time who was looking after him, if the other Beth hadn’t been around. I pictured him alone in the empty flat, thinking he’d been abandoned, wandering off, thin and unloved, and wanted to cry. I told myself cats are good at getting people to take them in; Mrs Bramley would feed him, if she realized he’d been left alone.

  “No, going there would be asking for trouble. I wish I knew what they’ve given her. Beth!” Nick squeezed her arm. She didn’t react. “I thought she’d have come round by now, but she seems worse if anything.” He hovered over her uncertainly the way he had over me when I cried, his expression perplexed, almost talking to himself. “Unconscious people need monitoring. The man in the lab downstairs was doing that, was on call even though he left, he must live round the corner from the Lomax. Maybe she needs medical help, but I don’t want to go to a hospital …”

  “There’s Matt Reeve. He’s a doctor, and he’s near here.”

  “Good idea.” Nick turned the key in the ignition.

  “Except he might not be that pleased to see you. I suppose you could apologize to him, and hope he accepts it.” Nick didn’t say anything, just pulled into the road. I persisted. “If you want him to let you in, that is. You broke down his door and threw him across the room and tasered him. You’re probably right at the bottom of his list of people he’d like to meet again. With your name crossed out. When you turn up in the middle of the night asking a favour, he’s not going to say, ‘Hi, Nick, come on in, how can I help,’ is he? He’s more likely to tell you where to go.”

  Nick shot a look at Beth, as if hoping she’d spring to life and spare him the humiliation. She didn’t. “All right! I’ll apologize.”

  I rang Matt’s bell at a quarter to midnight. The door was new and solid, bare wood, with two locks. Nick stood behind me, the other Beth in his arms as if she were his bride about to be carried over the threshold. After a minute, Matt’s face appeared at the window, gravely taking us in one by one. I did a small wave and smiled, and he disappeared. The front door opened and he stood there in pyjamas and dressing gown, staring from Beth’s face to mine. A tiny thrill of vindication shot through me at having finally and incontrovertibly proved myself non-delusional.

  “Beth, are you all right?” He jerked his head in Nick’s direction. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I’m fine. This is Nick, we’ve got a sort of truce. He has something to say to you.” I stood out of the way and gave Nick a meaning look.

  He muttered, “I’m sorry I damaged your door and uh, threw you around and tasered you. Nothing personal.”

  Matt eyed Nick without enthusiasm. “Apology accepted, but you can give me your taser while you’re here, and if I tell you to leave, you leave immediately.” Nick hesitated. “Or you can stay outside, which suits me just fine. It’s up to you.”

  Nick said he’d hand it over when his hands were free – probably reflecting he could take it back any time he wanted – and we trooped into Matt’s living room. He put on lights and drew the curtains, while Nick laid the other Beth on the sofa then put his taser on the mantelpiece. Matt crouched beside the sofa and arranged a cushion so her head tilted backwards, felt her skull and took her pulse. He fetched a torch and shone light into her eye, called her name and dug his fingers into her arm – she pulled away a fraction – then he sat back.

  “She hasn’t hit her head?”

  “We think she’s been drugged.”

  “D’you know what she’s been given? And by whom? And why?”

  I said, “We don’t know what, but it was a doctor at the research clinic, I think because she wasn’t co-operating.”

  Matt rolled up her left sleeve. There was a small round plaster on the inside of her elbow, which he removed to see what was beneath. “My guess is a mixture of opiates and benzodiazepines, given intravenously. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”

  Nick said, “Isn’t there something you can give her to wake her up?”

  “I’m a cardiologist. If I were a G.P., I’d have naloxone in my bag – it reverses the effect of opiates – though I’d still be guessing about the benzodiazepine. You need flumazenil to confirm the diagnosis, and it’s short-acting, she’d go back to sleep again in ten minutes. She’s breathing properly. The best we can do is keep an eye on her until she wakes up on her own. No food or drink, obviously, and make sure she doesn’t choke. Or you can take her to A & E, where they’ll do much the same.” Matt’s consulting room manner dropped from him. “I suppose you’d better all stay here overnight.” Three of us in his flat; I had indeed proved the thin end of the wedge …

  “Hang on a minute,” said Nick. “Did you tell anyone about Beth Two or me?”

  “I went to the police after you broke in here. I didn’t tell them the replica story, they wouldn’t have believed it.” He looked apologetically at me. “Sorry. I just said you’d broken my door down and tasered me, and taken Beth away.”

  “You told them her name?”

  “Yes. I gave them her description. And I told them you said you were Security Service.”

  “Shit. What did they say?”

  “Not very much. The officer went away for ten minutes, came back and said they’d let me know if there were any developments. And I said, if it was Security Service business, did that mean they wouldn’t be investigating it, and he went rather formal and said the police took breaking and entering and assault very seriously. I said, what about abduction, and he said, yes, that too, and had me shown out.”

  “Shit,” Nick said again. “We need to get out of here. Now. Get dressed and join us outside. And turn your phone off.”

  He scooped up the other Beth; an unshaven and dark-eyed Heathcliff bearing Cathy off. I jumped up, frantic to be away, my hands shaking at the thought of being caught.

  Matt glared at Nick. “We’ll get along better if you don’t order me around.” He hesitated. “If I’m not here, they’ll break the ne
w door down …”

  “I’ll pay for the bloody door,” Nick said. “Beth needs you.”

  Replica ~ Lexi Revellian

  CHAPTER 39

  Recriminations

  The car took off down the midnight street, rocketing over speed humps. Matt, intimately squashed in the back seat with Beth Two, apologized and managed to fit his hastily packed messenger bag under the driver’s seat to give them more space.

  After a minute Beth Two said, “Er, where are we going?”

  “No idea,” said Nick. “Any suggestions?”

  Matt offered tentatively, “We could go to my sister’s house. It’s got four bedrooms. She’s away until the new year.”

  “Where does she live?”

  Matt gave an address near Clapham Common and Nick pointed the Audi south west.

  In the small hours of the morning, when Matt had allocated bedrooms and everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, Nick watched over Beth. He sat in a chair beside her bed, ready to call Matt if she stopped breathing or choked, thinking about Josh. He was supposed to be having him Boxing Day, and didn’t see how this was going to be possible. He’d have to go to a call box some way away and ring Sandra, and could imagine word for word what she would say, and the conversation she’d have with her parents afterwards. She and Josh were spending Christmas at their house. He hoped Josh wouldn’t mind waiting for his present. If Nick lost his job he’d go back overseas, but working for a private military company this time. Same risk, a lot more money; but he’d see less of Josh, and he didn’t see enough of him now. Beth lay, pale and motionless; she hadn’t stirred for twenty minutes. He thought of Ollie lying in his hospital bed, and wondered how he was. He’d rung the hospital the day before, and they’d told him the usual thing, he was making gradual progress; but he wanted to visit him and see for himself. As soon as this was over …

  Beth’s eyelids quivered and lifted, and he leaned forward, smiling. She smiled back at him, a happy smile, and reached for his hand. “Nick! I knew you’d rescue me …” She glanced round the softly-lit bedroom. “Where am I?”

  “Safe.”

  “You’ve hurt your face.” Tender fingers pushed his hair aside and stroked his temple. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.” Nick stood and began to undress. “Mind if I join you?”

  “No … where’s the bathroom?”

  She got up, still woozy, and Nick showed her to the en suite. She returned and climbed into bed, nestled next to him and fell asleep. Nick was relieved she had regained consciousness; also that she wasn’t asking awkward questions yet. He’d face that in the morning. Within minutes, he too was asleep.

  The house was quiet when Nick woke at dawn. In the dim light Beth looked like a Botticelli angel, pink and white with golden hair, rosy lips slightly parted. He wanted to kiss her gently and make love to her while she was delectably warm and drowsy … but once she was awake he was going to have to tell her the truth, or as edited a version as he could get away with. Better to fetch her breakfast on a tray, thus scoring points, and while she ate bring her up to speed on the events of past weeks in a way that didn’t reflect too badly on him. In the privacy of the bedroom, without Beth Two or Matt there to point out how he’d abused her trust, he might just be able to pull this off. Then having got it over with, make love, stop her thinking about it … He slid out of bed, picked up his clothes and left the room, dressed on the landing, and padded down the cream-carpeted stairs.

  The light was on in the big ground floor kitchen. A wall of glass showed a grey sky and a wintry garden. Beth Two, wearing the black tracksuit, stood at the granite counter of an island unit stirring something in a saucepan. She glanced up, and back at the pan. “How is she?”

  Nick lifted the kettle to see if it had water in, and flipped its switch. “Beth’s fine. She woke up last night.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “Told her about you? Not yet, she’s asleep. I will once she’s awake. Is there any bread?”

  “Me and everything else. There’s frozen rolls in the freezer, you can heat them in the oven. I’m having porridge.”

  Nick found a packet of petit parisien rolls in the tall stainless steel freezer, put them in the oven and turned it on, set butter on a side plate and marmalade in a bowl, and measured a spoonful of coffee into a cup. He laid everything on a tray, adding cutlery, then folded a paper napkin from a drawer into a triangle. Flowers stood in a vase on the counter. Nick selected a rose, and placed it on the napkin. Beth Two watched these preparations with a jaundiced eye.

  “She’s not going to like it, you know.”

  “You think she’d prefer porridge?” said Nick, deliberately misunderstanding her.

  Beth Two rolled her eyes. “She’s not going to like what you’re going to tell her.” Nick didn’t answer. He had a definite feeling she relished the prospect of him sliding in Beth’s estimation. He hoped to disappoint her. The kettle boiled and he made the coffee. “There’s no way you can wrap it up so she won’t realize what a shit you’ve been. She’s not a complete idiot.”

  “Just stay out of this.” Nick got the hot rolls out of the oven, arranged them on the plate, and picked up the tray. “Leave Beth to make up her own mind. She’s perfectly capable.”

  “Make up my mind about what? That bread smells delicious.” Beth had materialized in the doorway. She saw Beth Two and her eyes widened as they took in every detail of her appearance. “Oh my God … the Prof did it after all. He copied me …”

  “Yes. He just didn’t tell you. Are you feeling okay? Come and sit down.”

  “But … you’re not under my control, are you?”

  “Nope. I’m a replica, so not what he was after. Exactly the same as you. Except I dyed my hair when I was on the run.”

  Nick moved towards Beth, hoping to avert the impending debacle. “Come upstairs, and I’ll tell you everything. I’ve made you breakfast on a tray, you can have it in bed.”

  “It’s okay, I’m up now.” Beth walked past him to the counter and sat on a stool. “I’ll eat here, then I can talk to …” She didn’t know what to call replica Beth. “ … both of you.” She stared at her. “I can’t believe this, it’s uncanny, you’re me but I’m not used to seeing myself outside a mirror, apart from photos, and you’re three-dimensional … it’s so strange. Are you a bit thinner than me?”

  “It’s possible – I was hungry most of that week on the run.”

  As if choreographed, the two Beths got up, walked to a wall mirror and studied themselves. Nick stood there holding the tray, unable to stop watching. They were like identical twins, but more so; the way they moved – each brushed hair from her eyes at the same time – and the way their facial expressions and their voices mirrored each other … They came back to the stools and sat down again.

  “I don’t remember what happened after I hit Ben Pearson with one of the slats from my bed.”

  Beth Two grinned at her and shot a told-you-so look at Nick. “Good for you! What a creepy man.”

  Nick accepted the inevitable and put the tray on the counter in front of Beth. “They drugged you after that. I broke into the lab and brought you here.”

  Beth gave him a grateful smile and began to butter a roll, saying she was starving. He doubted she’d be smiling at him like that for long. Beth Two transferred her porridge into a bowl, adding squeezy honey. She put the saucepan in the sink and ran water into it, then took the stool next to Beth and began to eat, apparently in no hurry to enlighten her. Her demeanour was relaxed and blithe, as if she might whistle were she not eating. Nick made himself a coffee while helplessly waiting for the truth to emerge like a rat from a toilet.

  Beth looked from one to the other. “Someone tell me what’s going on. You both know more than I do, apparently.”

  Beth Two spoke through a mouthful of porridge. “That Friday evening when I got out of the OMD7 receptor unit, I overheard Sir Peter Ellis telling the Prof they were g
oing to do experiments on me then kill me. You can imagine, I was terrified, so I went on the run with no handbag or coat or anything. I even left my shoes behind.”

  “In that freezing weather? And no money … Bloody hell, poor you. Then … why did they take me to a safe house that evening?” She turned to Nick. “Were terrorists after me?”

  “No. Sir Peter just told you that.”

  “So why were you guarding me? Why were there men outside my flat round the clock? What was that about?”

  Beth Two answered before he did. He wasn’t ready for this, should have worked out what to say last night. He’d had all that time sitting around, he could have done it then. Shit. “They thought I’d try to contact you and if I did, they’d catch me. Nick nearly managed it, too.” Her manner was light, almost jaunty; she didn’t need to labour it, just the bare information was enough. It was pay-back time, and she was enjoying herself, damn her. “He grabbed my wrist and tried to force me into his van, but the builders stopped him and I got away. He nearly got me a couple of other times, too.”