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  As he reached the church, he almost choked on his cigarette. He really was being taunted. There she stood. The dead woman’s sister.

  He knew that he should keep driving, leave the town and never come back, but he couldn’t; something stopped him, it was as if he was being drawn to her. Somehow he needed to make amends, although how he might do this was completely eluding him.

  Pulling the car to the kerb, he wound down the window.

  “Hello there.”

  Hearing a voice, Corrine looked up and stared blankly at the man leaning out of a car window. He seemed to be directing his conversation at her. There was something attractively familiar about him, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Sorry, do I know you?”

  “We met at your sister’s funeral. I’m Jack.”

  She remembered him now, the man who had spoken to her at the graveside. The handsome man with wild eyes and an inviting smell of tobacco and aftershave. The thought brought a fleeting smile to her lips.

  “Jack, of course,” she shivered with cold.

  “You’re freezing. Do you want a ride somewhere?”

  “No I’m alright, but thanks for the offer.”

  The wind picked up and whistled down the street, collecting more debris from the gutter, flinging it in all directions as it went. It tugged at Corinne’s coat and she shivered again, unable to get warm. Her fingers were too numb to do up the remaining buttons, and she realised her teeth were chattering.

  Jack climbed out of the car, walked over, and leaned against the wall next to her. He motioned to his car. “Come on, get in before you freeze. What are you going to do, stay here all night?”

  She knew he was right. She was just being stubborn because she had poor social skills and hated meeting new people, especially handsome men that intrigued her and stirred feelings within her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  “Thank you, Jack. I appreciate the offer,” she paused, unsure of what to say next, before remembering that she knew his name but he had no clue of hers.

  “I’m Corinne, by the way.”

  “Hi there Corinne,” he said, smiling, but she noticed that the smile never reached his eyes. A mystery. “Now come on, get in the car and let me take you home.”

  Jack took hold of her hand and put his arm around her in an effort to help her to the waiting vehicle, suddenly without warning she went limp in his arms, falling like a rag doll to the pavement.

  EIGHT

  Corinne felt completely adrift. Day had changed to night in an instant and her body was no longer her own. Dizziness overwhelmed her and she tried to get her bearings. She was in a street, but where? Spinning around she saw the church and familiarity washed over her. She knew where she was now.

  Suddenly, to her left, she saw the great hulk of car speeding along the road, the headlights too bright, blinding her, and the engine too loud, deafening her. It was like she had been transported to another time and place. Ahead of her, she saw Helena crossing the road, singing to herself, her favourite sandals swinging loosely from her delicate fingers. The car was heading straight for her and Corinne watched helplessly as it hit her. She held out her arm trying to reach for her sister. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Corinne gulped for air feeling like she was drowning and then blackness enveloped her once more.

  In the depth of dark shadows she heard a voice, it was insistent, calling her name but she felt trapped in a murky fog. She listened for it and there it was again, her name, echoing in the dark. She followed the voice as it slowly pulled her back to the surface of reality.

  “Corinne!” Jack was trying with all of his might to bring her back to consciousness, “Corinne, talk to me!”

  Finding herself slumped against the wall, Corinne tried to raise her head. She still felt dizzy, sick and slightly disoriented. Breathing deeply, she concentrated on helping the feelings pass. Eventually she opened her eyes, as the uneasy feelings finally dissipated. It was daylight, and there was no sign of Helena or the car. What the hell had happened?

  “Are you feeling alright?”

  “I think so. What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. I went to help you to the car and the next minute you were deadweight in my arms. I think you fainted.”

  Corinne was shaken. It looked like her visions were returning with a vengeance. They were becoming more common, as though she were being forced to live out her sister’s final moments, but she had no idea why. She had always had the ability to see things before they happened, but it had never been this strong before, and she had always seen the future, not the past. It scared and unnerved her. It was like Helena was talking to her from beyond the grave, but it wasn’t possible. Was it?

  She had to think about it sensibly, but she was too tired and confused to be reasonable about anything right now. Fatigue was making her so confused. She could put it down to not eating any food since breakfast, and the stress of everything that had happened. Perhaps it was just one of those strange dreams you got when you fainted. Helena had been on her mind and she was at the scene of the accident after all. She was too tired to think about it now, and needed to just get into the car and go home.

  “Come on let me help you,” Jack reached forward to help Corinne to her feet, but she declined, using the wall to help her up. Slowly, step by step, she made her way to the car under her own steam. Jack shrugged, following in her wake. Corinne climbed into the passenger seat, and Jack closed the door. The interior of the vehicle was spacious and she felt insignificant in the large soft leather of the passenger seat. The car smelled like its owner; a mild musky mix, pleasant but not overpowering. Jack climbed in, started the engine and pulled away in silence. Corinne kept her eyes on the passing suburban sprawl not knowing what to say until finally Jack broke the chasm of silence between them.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Main Street. You know how to get there?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence returned once more, descending like a cloud. Jack concentrated on the road as Corinne continued to gaze out of the window. The sky had darkened and street lamps were flickering on. The day was coming to an end. She spoke only as they reached Main Street, to tell him which house was hers. Jack pulled the car to the kerb and she climbed out, firmly shutting the door behind her.

  He lowered the window and a rush of cold air washed over him.

  “Goodnight Corinne.”

  “Thank you, Jack.”

  She turned, climbed the front steps, and paused for a moment to look back. What was it about him, she thought, entering the house, closing the door behind her. She threw her coat and bag over the banister before picking up a book of matches, walking through the safe haven of her home lighting candles as she went.

  *

  Jack sat in the car. The engine was still running and emitted a low throaty grumble. Lighting a cigarette, he watched the house with intrigue; Corinne was a mystery. He had felt the softness of her skin when he’d taken her hand in his and smelt the faint scent of flowers about her as he’d cradled her in her arms after falling to the pavement. He had realised in that moment, whilst holding her, how desperately he wanted to get to know her, but in the car she had put up a wall, and he’d had no idea what to say to her. Outwardly it was as if she didn’t want to talk to anyone, so he’d just left her to her own devices. He knew he should walk away but part of him wanted to spend time with her, to be part of her life. He wanted to know more about her sister, the woman he’d killed, and the only way to do that was to get to know Corinne. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but since when had that ever stopped him from doing anything?

  Light illuminated the front room and he saw Corinne cross to the mantelpiece. She lit another candle before lifting a photo frame that sat atop the wood. As she held it tightly to her chest she began to cry, her shoulders heaving great sobs, and she had to grip the mantelpiece to steady herself.

  Jack discarded his cigarette, flicking it t
o the pavement. Reaching over to the glove box, he removed a bottle. Turning off the engine he climbed from the vehicle before mounting the steps in one leap.

  *

  It still amazed Corinne how waves of grief could suddenly wash over her like an all-enveloping tidal wave, dragging with them countless memories, both good and bad, debris that was left floating around her brain in a tangle of murky water.

  A sudden knock startled her. She placed the photo frame back on the mantelpiece, and wiped her eyes with her dress sleeve in an effort to remove the salted tears. Corinne opened the door to find Jack leaning against the frame.

  “I thought you’d left?”

  “You looked upset,” he said, lifting the bottle, “Want a drink?”

  Corinne needed company, someone to help pull her from the edge of the pit of despair she was standing on. She wanted someone to talk to, someone who didn’t know her, someone who wouldn’t judge. She wanted someone to just sit and listen and make her feel like they were there for her and cared. He seemed the perfect choice.

  “Come in.”

  Jack entered, following her through the dim candlelit house to the front room. He stopped in surprise at the bleak, minimal scene before him. Two chairs sat either side of an open hearth, which Corinne was now knelt in front of. She patiently lit the kindling, building up logs around it to catch the flame. As she toiled he continued to take in his surroundings. A small table sat in front of the fire by the chairs, other than that, the room was bare. Even the floorboards were on show, with only a small threadbare rug to break the uniformity of the wood. Jack wondered how someone could live in a house so devoid of comfort and character.

  Finally Corinne stood, brushing dust and ash from her hands before lighting the few remaining candles on the mantelpiece. She left the room for a moment. While she was gone, Jack crossed to the chairs and took a seat in one of them, feeling the heat of the fire warm him. It was a welcome relief.

  Corinne returned with two glasses and placed them on the table. Taking the bottle from Jack she poured a few fingers of the golden liquid into the tumblers, before putting the bottle on the table. She passed one of the glasses to him, sipping from her own as she sat opposite. Jack slugged back the bourbon before turning his attention to the photo frame on the mantelpiece.

  “Is that you and your sister?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  Corinne glanced over her shoulder at the image that caused her an equal measure of pain and pleasure.

  “Yes. It was taken on our birthday two years ago.”

  “Which one are you?”

  “On the left.”

  Corinne closely studied the man before her, the good-looking stranger who always seemed to be there when she needed him. But he was a man who she knew so little about, and had a guarded air about him. He had turned up in her life one day, completely unexpected, and always seemed to be there at every turn. Why was that?

  “Who are you Jack?”

  “Who am I?”

  Corinne laughed, “It’s not a trick question. I just don’t know anything about you. You suddenly appeared in my life, and seem to keep turning up when I need rescuing, and I have no idea who you are or why you’re here. You know about my tragedy, my sister, and you’re here in my house making up your mind about the type of person I am from what you can see before you, and yet I know nothing at all about you, other than you drive that monster of a car, smoke and drink bourbon. So, who are you?”

  Jack reached for the bottle to top up his glass.

  “Another drink?”

  She shrugged and held out the glass for him. He was deliberately being evasive. She tried to read his face as he slowly re-filled her glass, but it was impassive.

  “Were you and your sister close?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Maybe I am. Maybe it’s because I’m not ready to talk about myself yet.”

  She sighed and swallowed back some of the liquor.

  “Okay, if you’re asking if my sister and I have…I’m sorry…had that ‘twin thing’ then yes, we did, so that made us very close indeed. Her name was Helena by the way.”

  She paused to look at the photograph again, a stray tear escaping, despite her earlier promise not to cry in front of him. She desperately wanted to though, she wanted to cry and scream and lash out, for the loss of her sister and the loss of Jimmy and the children, but however much she wanted to, she just couldn’t do it in front of a stranger, especially one who refused to tell her anything about himself.

  “Enough about my sister. I asked about you Jack.”

  Corrine stared at him. He wasn’t going to have it all his own way, and she wouldn’t talk about Helena anymore today. Jack sat there and stared back at her. He wasn’t ready to share yet, he had stopped in to help her, not burden her with his own problems.

  Stalemate.

  “Well?” Corinne asked again a few minutes later after the silence between them had become unbearable.

  Sighing, he knew he was beaten. He topped up his glass again, before swigging back two fingers of the sweet bourbon. He drew another breath and finally spoke.

  “There’s little to tell. I live on my own and have no family. I love my car, my cigarettes and my alcohol. Sorry to disappoint you Corinne, but I’m a lonely man, with no one to care for, and no one cares for me.”

  The shutters descended on both sides of the table as they drank, with only the crackling of the open fire and odd hissing of flickering candles breaking the tension. Corinne had had enough and stood, she tipped the glass back, finishing the remainder of her drink in one go.

  “Well, thanks for the drink Jack.”

  It was time for him to leave.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  He knew she was lying, but she was already a closed book. He would get nothing further from her tonight. Swilling back the remainder of the bourbon, he placed the empty glass on the table.

  “See you Corinne.”

  After making his way through the gloom of the house, he let himself out. Corinne heard the door close behind him and watched from the window as he climbed into his car and drove away.

  Lifting the brown leather-bound book that had been sitting on the mantelpiece, Corinne pulled a chair closer to the table. She opened the book and began to write, recording the events of the day, as she did every day. Today would be no different. As she wrote, her memory danced around, recalling happier times. She sat pouring her heart out on to the paper, tears staining the words so that she could barely read them, writing fast and hard until her hand cramped so much that she could scarcely hold the pen.

  NINE

  The sun was slowly climbing, casting a luminous glow on the world below, bathing everything in a bright warm light, signalling the start of a new day. The weather had begun to get a little warmer than it had been of late, and the incessant wind that had seeped into bones and hurled debris through the streets had dropped to a mere gentle whisper. It had been a harsh, but beautiful winter and the snow and ice had arrived as predicted, bathing everything in a crisp white glow. Remnants of slushy brown ice that had once been clean white crystals lay in heaps around the town, now quickly melting as spring fast approached.

  Corinne stood in the window of her front room staring out at the street beyond. Her stomach was a mass of butterflies and try as she might she couldn’t stomach her breakfast so it ended up in the bin.

  Downing her coffee she placed the empty cup on the table and went to the mirror in the hallway to set about finishing her make-up. Staring at her reflection she was surprised by what she saw. She looked a lot less tired and drawn than she had in recent months. Her eyes had lost their dark circles and the colour had returned to her cheeks. Overall she was looking much better. Her make-up finished, she pulled on her coat, extinguished the candle that still burned for her sister on a daily basis, and left the house.

  *

  Sitting on the front step of
his house, Jimmy looked worn-out and anxious. He had been waiting for this day. It hadn’t come as a surprise, but the last few months had passed so quickly and suddenly it was here. He had spent the previous night tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling re-playing the events of Helena’s accident in his head. He still carried the guilt with him daily. He should have gone to collect Helena from her night out, but she had hated him fussing. And yet if he had gone, she wouldn’t have walked home on her own and wouldn’t have been killed; she would still be here now. He blamed himself and nothing anyone said would make him change how he thought.

  Christmas had been unbearable. He and the children had missed her terribly. Helena had always loved it, and the house hadn’t been the same without her dancing around the living room wearing tinsel and singing Christmas songs. He had tried to make the day a good one for the children but his attempts were sadly lacking, and it had fallen to his parents to keep the children amused and happy.

  He also loathed how he had treated Corinne at the wake. It was the last time he had seen her and he missed her company. Speaking to her that way had been despicable and Helena would have hated him for what he had done. He had tried so many times to contact her to apologise, but each time he tried he hesitated, not able to bring himself to make the call. Too much time had passed and he no longer knew what to say. He didn’t know how to make amends; he didn’t know how to make it better.

  Finally his parents had called her forcing him to talk to her. She had spoken with such love and kindness as though there had never been an issue and he felt nothing but relief. He had his sister-in-law back and the children had their aunt, and he felt much happier for it. He was now sitting and waiting for her to collect him so that they could go and face the final verdict together.

  Glancing up, he saw Corinne step from the car waving and smiling broadly. He was pleased to see her and after not seeing her for so long he realised what an idiot he had been. Yes, she and Helena were twins, but if he looked hard enough he could list the many differences between them. Corinne dressed completely differently, and Helena always straightened her hair, whereas Corinne’s fell with natural waves. Corinne always wore lots of jewellery, but Helena only wore her wedding band and locket necklace. Corinne’s nose was slightly crooked, and Helena was perfect in every way. Their mannerisms were also completely different. He had been such a fool, but as his parents had told him, grief did funny things to people.