A long breath escapes my lips. With it, comes all of the worry and concern I’ve been holding inside my body.
He pauses for some time, taking it all in and then he asks. “So, if it isn’t you… did someone photoshop it, do you think?”
I glance around at our surroundings. We’re really in the middle of the moors now. The thin road snakes through the dark valley, no lights, no sign of life.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “The photographer gave me several other photos from other angles. I could buy him faking one, maybe two. But not that many.” I let out a slightly nervous laugh. “You’re going to think I’m completely bonkers when I tell you what I think.”
He gives me a wry smile that’s followed up with the softest caress of my knee. “Try me.”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got another twenty minutes before we arrive.”
Alistair turns down the radio and I tell him all about Rachel Lacey giving me up for adoption and finding my sister Dina. I tell him the crazy theory I have that my identical twin could be out there.
Once I’m done, he cocks his head to one side and says, “Okay. So, what are you doing to find your twin?”
I could laugh. Never in a million years did I think he would respond that way. But there’s no hint of doubt in his open, interested eyes. He really seems to believe me.
“Nothing yet. I honestly don’t know where to begin.”
“What about the photo?” Alistair suggests. “If you’re right then the woman in the photo must have been in the same area as you. Maybe she’s trying to find you.”
“But why would she be in a state of undress like that?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but whatever the reason, it seems as though she needs a caring family member to help her,” he says. “And you’re a smart, sensitive woman. Which means she needs you, Faye.”
He pulls into the carpark of a small, countryside pub.
“Oh,” I say. “We’re here.”
The drive went by in no time. I got so lost in our conversation. Alistair not only listened, but believed me right away when I told him my madcap theory. He makes me feel heard and safe. I smile and then take in our surroundings. This small pub seems odd to be a grand surprise, but perhaps it has a special restaurant. One glance at the parked cars tells me that the clientele are big spenders. Alistair’s BMW slides in next to a metallic Range Rover.
“So, it might seem pretty ordinary on the outside, but the food is amazing,” he says. “It’s worth the drive. Believe me.”
On the walk into the restaurant, Alistair slips an arm over my shoulder and in return, I slip mine around his waist. His body is warm and firm. As we walk through the door, I realise this is my first time in a crowded place since the photo went viral and I’m not sure if people will recognise me, or who they assume to be me.
We’re shown to our seats, a small table by the window, and Alistair orders a wine for me and a coke for him. Low ceilings and old-fashioned beams criss-cross above our heads. The room pulses with the buzz of conversation which thrums through me pleasantly. I haven’t been to a fancy place like this for a long time. I smile as I pick up the leatherbound menu to peruse the options.
“The salmon is good here,” he says. “But go with your instincts because it’s all amazing.”
I appreciate him not being pushy. Some men like to order for you, and I’ve never been a fan of that. But in the end, I go with his recommendation of the salmon to pair with my white wine.
Across the other side of the restaurant, I notice a man staring at me. He’s in his thirties, with dark hair and deep-set eyes. I meet his gaze for a moment, thinking it will make him turn away. But he doesn’t. He continues to stare. I shake my head slightly and turn back to my date.
“You know,” I say, “I could do with some help investigating this possible twin. I know it’s a bit of a strange request, but so far you seem to be the only person who believes me. So do you fancy helping me out with this? And maybe you and I can get to know each other a little better as we do it?”
Alistair tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and kisses me lightly on the lips. “If it means spending more time with you, count me in.”
CHAPTER 18
FAYE
When I wake, I know that something isn’t right. The man in bed with me is not my husband. I leap out, almost tripping over my own feet and stagger over to the window where daylight is beginning to creep across the floor.
“Faye?” The man rolls over, smiling. “Faye?” The smile fades. He sits up, revealing his bare chest. The tan and the muscles certainly do not belong to my husband. “Are you all right?”
There is a niggling at the back of my mind. It’s a clawing feeling that I want to ignore but sense I should pay attention to. Then I remember. “Alistair?”
