She pulls up the sleeve of her top so I can see the skin justbelow her inner elbow. It’s the string of planets in our solar system, in vivid colour and relative size. It looks amazing.
I meet her eyes. ‘You love it, right? Tell me you love it?’
‘Of course I love it. But it wasn’t you who went with me?’ The pitch of her voice rises towards the end of the sentence.
‘It wasn’t me,’ I tell her. ‘But …’ I raise a finger in front of me. ‘Iwouldhave told you to get it because it is fucking awesome.’
‘Oh my God,’ she exclaims and stops me in my tracks.
‘What?’
‘You got one too.’
‘I did not.’
‘On your back.’ She pulls out her phone and motions for me to turn in my seat. She pulls up my top and snaps a picture, before turning her phone screen towards me.
And there, just below my right shoulder blade, is a bright pink and red design. ‘A Möbius strip,’ I whisper under my breath. Tattooed onto my back. The exact same tattoo I had in the world Tyler and I went to New York. But that makes no sense; that Bethany and the one who came here weren’t the same. Unless … a memory shakes lose from years ago. I was a fresher at uni and there was a girl in her final year who I had a bit of a crush on. It was platonic, but I thought she was the coolest woman on the planet, like I wanted to be her when I grew up. She told me one evening in the lab that the only tattoo she’d get would be a Möbius strip. Evidently a few of us Bethanys remembered her and copied the idea. ‘I had the same one. In another world.’
Cesca tilts her head to one side and looks at me. I mean,reallylooks at me.
‘Do you believe me?’ I ask, starting to feel self-conscious under her stare.
‘So, you’ve been living a whole load of different lives?’
‘Yep.’
She sits back in her seat and takes a few deep breaths.I can see the gears of her brain grinding and I wish I could peek inside and see exactly what she’s thinking. Eventually she nods a few times and then exhales loudly. ‘Wow.’ There’s no emotion in her tone.
‘Wow, what?’ I ask with trepidation.
‘Just … wow.’ This time there’s a hint of awe in her voice. She smiles. ‘Well, I guess we’d better get some wine and chocolate. I think we have a long day ahead of us while you tell me everything.’
I breathe a sigh of relief. She believes me. Or at least she’s willing to imagine a world in which what I’m telling her is the truth.
‘Deal,’ I tell her and motion to the waitress to bring the bill over.
‘But I’m not telling you anything until you ask out the waitress.’
‘I thought you weren’t going to dabble in my life any more?’ she says.
‘Ha. I said I wasn’t going to overstep. There’s a difference.’
My sister narrows her eyes at me. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Bethany Raven.’ Then she reaches out a hand and grabs mine, squeezing my fingers tightly. ‘I’m so glad to have you home.’
I squeeze back, all the words I want to say stacking on top of each other until I don’t know which to say first. That I missed her. That I will never take her for granted again. That I’ll treasure every moment we have. But in the end there’s only one thing I need to say. ‘I love you, Cesca.’
Epilogue
Every Thursday at nine p.m. I pull out my communicator and spend a happy few hours with the other Bethanys. The weirdness of talking to alternate versions of myself hasn’t worn off yet, but I’m starting to think of them as twins rather than other selves. Each week, one of us takes their turn in describing all the tiny details of their life and we marvel at the ways we’re both the same but also different. We share our hobbies and movie recommendations and life hacks that make the day-to-day easier to navigate. And every week, I make sure they give me an update on their progress with reconciling with their Cescas. I undertook my side of the bargain and I’m holding them to theirs.
I find Amina Samar on LinkedIn. In this world she’s working in a rather dull-sounding office job, which I can only imagine is driving her nuts. I send her a message, telling her that Imagine is always on the lookout for gifted women and I’d love to meet her to discuss a potential opportunity. Two weeks later she starts work with us. She’s brilliant and everyone praises my eye for talent. I haven’t told her yet about how I knew where to find her. I think it might freak her out to be honest. I mean,we were friends in another universedoes sound kind of messed up.
A month after I get back, Cesca picks me up for our weekly pancake pilgrimage. But then she takes a wrong turn, heading towards Croydon instead.
‘Err … where are we going?’ I ask.
‘It’s a surprise,’ she replies with a massive grin plastered across her face. She refuses to say any more.
