Mia
I should have just accepted the wine. What was wrong with me? But my memories of red wine were so poisonous I don’t think I could have forced myself to drink it. My mind flashed back to the last time I thought I’d had a choice of anything in a restaurant. We’d been at one of the best in London. Way more expensive than this place. Nate and I were eating with some of his clients.
“I’m fine thanks,” I told the waiter, my hand going over the top of my glass to stop the red wine from being poured in.
“Just give it a chance,” Nate said, his hand coming up to grip my wrist. I winced as it felt like my bones were being compressed together and I pulled my hand back.
“Pour,” Nate said to the waiter. Then, “Drink it,” to me after the waiter had moved on. I knew better than to not follow that order.
“Amelia’s still getting used to this sort of thing,” he’d told his clients, chuckling at my expense. “It was more chip butties and beer back home, wasn’t it darling?”
I’d laughed then, trying to pretend I was sharing the joke rather than being the butt of it. Then I’d forced the wine down my throat and suffered the migraine it induced later that night. Anything not to embarrass him in front of his clients. Anything not to make him angry. Anything to be perfect.
“Are you sure you want that, Mia?” Max asked me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“What?”
“A gin and tonic – you can have a soft drink if you like. Don’t let Verity bully you into drinking if you don’t want to. She’s just chuffed she won the coin toss and doesn’t have to drive back.”
He was staring across the table, his too-intelligent green eyes focused like laser beams on me, like my answer was important. Like it mattered. His attention felt terrifying, oppressive, but wonderful all at the same time.
“It’s fine,” I said, managing a small smile. Some of the tension around his mouth relaxed at my smile. Deep, deep down in the pit of my stomach I felt something uncoil.
We talked about the presentation.
Yaz poached a large chunk of Max’s steak.
“I thought you were vegan,” Max protested.
“I’m a flexatarian, you idiot.”
“A flexi-whaty-what?”
“A flexitarian. I don’t choose to order meat or animal products for environmental reasons, but if it’s already dead and presented to me I won’t let it go to waste.”
“My steak was not presented to you. Neither was it going to waste. I was about to eat the blooming thing!”
“Don’t you care about my iron and B12 levels?”
“No. But even if I did, I’d tell you to order your own chuffing steak.”
“You can have some of my halloumi,” she told him, and he eyed her plate with deep suspicion. I was beginning to recognise that Max’s bark was much worse than his bite. I mean, Yaz stole his food right from under his nose, and apart from an eye roll and some dry comments on flexatarianism he tolerated it.
When my food came I forgot myself. I forgot that I was in a restaurant, that I didn’t know these people very well. I even forgot the fear of discovery, just for a moment. Because it was the second hot meal I’d had in over two months. The smell of cheese and garlic from the carbonara clicked my mind into survival mode and I fell on it like a starving animal, blocking out everything and everyone around me as I ate. When I was finished I sat back in my chair and brought my napkin to my mouth.
“Okay there, Bear Grllys,” Yaz joked. “I guess you were hungry, huh?”
My face flooded with heat and I ducked my head.
“I, er … I have a high metabolism,” I muttered.
“But you don’t eat much around the office,” Max said. I glanced up at him and he was staring at me, his head cocked to the side, as though he was trying to work something out.
“Amelia? It is you!” I turned automatically and stiffened in my seat as I locked eyes with Adrian Luther. “What have you done to your hair?” There was a long beat of silence as I struggled to work out how to play this. In the end I decided bluffing my way through it was the only choice. I’d only met Adrian a handful of times, since he’d only become Nate’s partner in the business relatively recently. And I’d looked vastly different back then. I cursed the fact I’d allowed Verity to put make-up on my face earlier. Nothing was worth the potential of discovery.
“I’m sorry do I know you?” I blinked up at him and tried to keep the fear from my voice.
“What? Yes of course you do. It’s Adrian. I saw you just a few months ago at the Christmas do. You and Nate have had a rough time of it since then, haven’t you? First Nate with the flu, and then you came down with some sort of post viral syndrome. He told me that was why you didn’t make it to the client dinner in March. Never known him take any time off before. I do hope you’re feeling better.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“But–”
“I’m sorry, but you’ve made a mistake.” I met his eyes then and stared at him in challenge. He frowned down at me in confusion. In all honesty I felt sorry for the guy. He’d always seemed pretty decent. All Nate’s colleagues were. And it wasn’t as if they all knew the truth. Far from it. Most of them assumed that Nate and I were so in love that he couldn’t let me out of his sight when we were out together. I’d always been clamped to his side or he’d had his hand around my arm in what must have looked like an affectionate, if a little possessive, gesture. To me, his fingers biting into my skin was just another painful show of dominance, only in public. A warning to me.
“But–”
“Adrian, good to see you again, mate,” Max’s low voice cut in. He’d stood from his seat to his full intimidating height and extended his had to the other man. “Hope you liked the proposal.”
“Ah, Max,” Adrian replied, shaking Max’s hand and tearing his eyes away from me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you there. It’s just I know Amelia from–”
“I think you’ve got Mia confused with someone else,” Max said, his voice was firm.
“Mia?” Adrian muttered, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “I … ” Max moved to block his line of sight to me and crossed his arms over his chest. Adrian let out a confused chuckle. “Right, yes. My mistake. Well anyway, have a good lunch.”
Max
Mia’s face was so pale she was starting to look a little green. I hadn’t missed her flinch when she heard the name Amelia. There was no doubt in my mind that that was her real name. I also didn’t miss the fear in her expression as she looked at Adrian Luther. Real fear. I knew something was going on with her. I knew there was more to her than met the eye. There was an awkward silence now – very unusual with Yaz in attendance. When Mia reached for her gin and tonic her hand was shaking. She closed her eyes and swallowed the whole thing in two gulps.
“That was … odd,” Yaz said after letting out a nervous laugh.
“I … I must look like someone he knows,” Mia said, giving Yaz a tight smile.
“Well, he was a frightfully persistent bugger, wasn’t he,” Verity put in.
“Apparently we’ve all got a doppelgänger out there,” Yaz said with authority she did not have. “You should be careful. If you ever meet your doppelgänger you … er, well I’m not entirely sure what happens. I think maybe you both spontaneously combust or something.”
“Jesus. Well we’ve dodged a bullet there then haven’t we?” I said with a dry tone. “Have there been many documented cases of spontaneous combustion related to doppelgängers, Yaz?”
“Don’t take the piss, knobhead,” Yaz muttered. Mia gave Yaz a startled look – she always seemed so surprised when people talked back to me. When I caught Mia’s eye I smiled at her and rolled my eyes. She blinked and froze for a moment before she managed a small smile back at me. At least Yaz was good for something.
Mia spent the rest of the meal glancing around the restaurant with a hunted look on her face. When the bill came she looked so uncomfortable that I nearly said something, but I knew drawing attention to her would only make things worse. Verity paid with the company credit card. Yaz didn’t blink an eye, which seemed to help Mia relax. Maybe she had some sort of ethical hang-ups about company meals or something?
Yaz bumbled on about nonsense most of the drive back. I put up with it because she made Mia laugh. It was only once we made it back to the office that things got weird again.
“Get in, Mia. I’ll take you home,” I’d told her after the others had left for their cars. I knew Mia walked every day. Come to think of it I didn’t think I’d ever seen her driving a car.
“No … don’t worry. I’m fine,” she said, backing away down the pavement.
“It’s not fine,” I said, taking a few steps towards her as she retreated. “You’ve had a rough day, its dark and past nine at night. Let me drive you back home.”
“No, no, no, no–,” she chanted, shaking her head as her eyes went wide. Was she still afraid of me? “Honestly, I’d prefer to walk.’
I sighed. “You don’t live far from me anyway. It’s owt trouble.”
“I moved,” she said abruptly. “I’m, er … in the opposite direction to you now. So …” She backed up a few more steps, bounced on the balls of her feet a couple of times and then … she ran. One minute she was there, the next minute she’d gone – disappeared into the night as if she’d never really been there in the first place. I sprinted after her but she’d left no trace. Although frustrated and annoyed, my overriding emotion was concern. I couldn’t even drive to her house to check on her if she’d moved as I didn’t have her new address. Muttering under my breath about stubborn women, I dug out my phone and sent Mia a text.
What the fuck was that? R u okay?
The reply came through within seconds.
Yes. All good. Nearly home now.
That was it. No explanation of why she would sprint off into the darkness after the offer of a perfectly good lift. I sighed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. There was something I was missing.
Mia
Thank God I’d thought to put my phone on silent.
I watched Max through the bins in the alley I was hiding in. He stared at my reply, shook his head and put a hand to the back of his neck, before scanning the street one last time. I must have looked nuts running off like that, but I knew if I’d stayed he would have insisted on driving me home.
Home. Ha!
Little did he know that home was the sofa in his office.
Money for the B&B had officially run out yesterday.
He spun on his heel and marched away and I let out a relieved breath. Luckily he was out of hearing distance when the breath I’d exhaled turned into a cough. I grimaced and rubbed my chest, sinking down the wall of the alley to sit on the damp ground. Another coughing fit followed.
I closed my eyes and, for the first time in a long time, I prayed.
Please let Adrian forget he saw me.
Please don’t let me be ill.
Please don’t let Max think I’m crazy.
