‘It’s just chimichurri mayo.’
‘Oh,’ I reply. Whatever differences this universe has, the food isn’t one of them.
Chapter Nineteen
After we’ve eaten, he takes me to the office he keeps at Imperial and we get to work.
It takes me half an hour or so to bring him up to speed on the progress I made with the last Tyler. Well, not strictly speaking the last Tyler; he was after all too busy with his girlfriend for me to bother. Or at least that’s what my stupid jealous brain had assumed. I push down the mortification over my reaction – myoverreaction – and try not to think of the waste of time, the extra skip I’ve opened myself up to because I didn’t tap into that Tyler’s brain to help solve this thing. I need to get home. I need to stop letting anything else get in the way of that.
Bethany Raven is on a mission and she will not get waylaid.
Three hours later, he stands and stretches, his T-shirt riding up so I get an eyeful of his toned stomach and the little blush of blond downy hair across it. I avert my gaze, but he notices and gives me a slow smile.
Nope nope nope. Bethany Raven is on a mission and she will not get waylaid.
‘So,’ he asks, ‘what does Ms Raven do for fun?’
The way he says Ms Raven does something funny to my insides. ‘Um … this one?’
‘You one,’ he says like I’m a fool. ‘There is only one you, Bethany.’
Is there though? I can feel all the other Bethanys sitting on my shoulders, each of their quirks and funny habits and different ways of doing things. What if this Bethany is happier? What if that Bethany is more fulfilled?
‘Stop it,’ he says gently. ‘You’ll drive yourself crazy if you analyse it too much.’
I wave my hand around the room, all the equations written on the whiteboard. ‘We have to analyse it.’
‘No. We have to analyse that stuff.’ He points at the wall. ‘I’m meaning you analysingyou, the many variants of you.’
‘I wasn’t,’ I lie.
‘Of course you were.’ He smiles. ‘You’re human so of course you’re wondering why one Bethany is one way and another is different. But you have to let it go.’
I nod. But it isn’t that easy, is it? I mean, I’m literally stepping into these other Bethanys’ lives. They are not me, but they alsoareme and it’s starting to mess with my head. ‘Don’t you want to know?’
‘About what?’
‘All the details about the other Tylers?’
‘Nope,’ he says almost flippantly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because that way lies madness. I spent my whole childhood trying to figure out who I was, why I liked some things and my twin likes something different even though we’re the same person.’
‘Are you very different?’ I ask.
‘Yes. Chalk and cheese. Apples and oranges. Night and day. He likes sports and beer and is appallingly bad at maths.’
‘No way!’ I stare at the equations on the walls. ‘But you’re …’
‘Yep. How can we have the same genes, but I can do that and he can’t?’ There is no hint of pride in what he says; he’s not being arrogant. It’s just a fact. He’s incredibly good at maths, like did his GCSE when he was still in primary school kind of good at maths. I did mine a year later than him; not that we’re comparing.
‘Do you think there’s a Bethany out there who isn’t a physicist?’ I ask.
‘Yep.’ He nods and smiles. ‘Somewhere out there is a Bethany who is a complete airhead and loves all things pink.’ As an aside, I actually do like pink. I have a rather excellent bright pink Slanket. Cesca bought it for me and she has a matching one for when we have our annualLegally Blondewatch-a-thon. ‘There’s also a Bethany who is married with five kids.’
I grimace. Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like kids. I love kids. Adore them in fact. As long as I can give them back. What if I wake up tomorrow and I’m in a world where I have to look after a baby? Actually have to keep a small human alive for longer than five minutes?
