He grins. ‘Always in a hurry, eh?’ He holds out his palm. ‘Whatcha got for me?’
I hand over the keys, steady as I can. He inspects them, eyebrows peaking at the Fiat key.
‘This one’s got a chip, so you’ll need to go to the dealership, love. Sorry. But I can do the others.’
‘That’s fine.’ I shift my weight. ‘Could you do them in, like, ten minutes? Emergency at home. I can pay a bit extra.’ I put on my most pleading smile.
He considers, then shrugs. ‘I can do them in twenty. But I won’t take any money, not after what you did for our Leah.’ He gives me a solemn nod.
Clearly, Bella’s a Good Samaritan. I mentally file this for future reference. ‘You’re an angel. Just got to nip to the bank. Be back in a bit.’
He nods and turns back to his key-cutting machine. I just have to hope he doesn’t say anything to Bella about it. She seems to know everybody in Lymington. She’s like Princess frigging Diana, everyone just loves her.
I wander down the street, my head bowed, trying to kill the allotted twenty minutes. I’d rather have waited in the shop – the fewer people that see me, the better – but I can’t risk an ongoing conversation with the key man in case he realises I’m not who I say I am. This impersonation malarkey is harder than it looks.
After eighteen minutes, I return to the shop. He greets me with a grin and hands over the set in a little brown envelope.
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ I say, and mean it.
‘Only repaying the favour,’ he replies.
I shrug a smile and leave, heading back to Newbury’s, but, to my dismay, I spy Bella leaving the café with her boyfriend, the two of them returning to the office. That was a quick coffee – I thought for sure they’d be longer. If she notices her keys are missing, she might get someone in to change the locks.Think, Jade, think.
I dart into a charity shop opposite and hover near the window, peering through a rack of ugly Christmas jumpers. Bella and her boyfriend chat with her employee, laughing about something. With a sinking heart, I watch her disappear into the back. After a minute, she emerges and leaves with her boyfriend – this time with her handbag over her shoulder.Damn.
Once they’re out of sight, I dart across the road, heart racing, and slip back into the agency. This time, the guy at the back looks up and frowns.Shit, can he tell?
‘Forgotten something?’ he asks with a smile, followed by another frown as he, no doubt, tries to work out why I’m now wearing a thick parka.
‘Yeah, just got to...’ I give a short laugh and shake my head at my scatterbrained antics. I walk briskly past him, into the back office. Once there, I congratulate myself on fooling another person that I’m Bella. Then, I place her original set of keys on the floor, beneath the desk where her handbag was. Hopefully, she’ll accept that she dropped them.
I walk out with a cheery ‘Bye again!’ As soon as I reach the street and walk a few steps, I let myself breathe. My hands are trembling, my whole system charged with adrenaline. Yet I feel lighter, freer. I’ve done it. The keys are mine.
But I know that today is nothing compared to what comes next.
The most nerve-wracking part of all is what I’ll have to do to truly become my twin. Getting the keys, learning the accent, walking in her footsteps, that’s just prep work. The real transformation requires a blank canvas, and as long as Bella’s still here, I’ll only ever be the knockoff. I’ll have to get her out of the way. The thing I need to ask myself is whether I have the courage to do what needs to be done. Whether I have the capacity for... I daren’t even say the word. Not even to myself.
It hits me in the stomach first – a cold, electric jolt. Then it ripples outward, curdling into a strange, weightless clarity. It’s not horror, not really. It’s relief. Because I know, without a wisp of doubt, that I can do this.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jade
Bella’s fresh-cut key copies are cold in my palm, gleaming with promise. The knowledge that I could let myself into Bella’s flat at any time is both intoxicating and terrifying. But I don’t go in. Not yet.
I stand beneath a bare-limbed tree outside Bella’s building, heart pinging off my ribcage, and weigh my options. On the one hand, I’m itching to see the inside of her apartment, but on the other, I think about the credit card of hers I snagged, now tucked into my purse along with my own card, driving licence, and Tesco Clubcard. A few hours and she’ll notice it’s missing, a couple more and it’ll be cancelled. And it’s unlikely I’ll have any more chances. Anyway, she could return home at any moment.
Decision made, I turn and head back to Mum’s Clio. I’m at the wheel before I know it, skimming every yellow light, radio turned up to eleven. The traffic is blissfully light for a Monday rush hour; maybe the universe has decided to give me a pass today. The city blurs past – lights, concrete, billboards.
Westquay looms like a cruise ship – tiered parking, walkways, lights that never switch off. Thankfully, it’s open for late-nightshopping. I park, and take a moment to breathe, the scent of diesel and petrol making me wrinkle my nose.
The lift is slow but gives me a moment to wipe my palms on my jeans, check my reflection, and reset my game face. Not even a hint of nerves – just the cool, ordinary mask of someone who spends every other week in John Lewis and Zara.
My last shopping trip was ages ago, with Zac, back in the summer, when I felt that familiar stab of guilt every time I bought something, even though I told myself it didn’t matter, that it would just get added to my credit card bill. This time, I’ll have free rein to buy what I like, courtesy of Bella Newbury.
The doors open, and the mall’s noise engulfs me – music, chatter, the click-clack of heels, the drone of announcements. I’m swept along in the crowd, letting their energy push me forward. This close to Christmas, the whole place is a shrine to excess – Christmas trees on every level, animated snowflakes projected on to walls, sparkling decorations, and lights.
I buy one item at a time, taking turns in each store. The salespeople don’t look twice at me, and the card works on every tap. I’m careful not to overdo it, keeping every individual purchase under £100. One chunky cardigan, a couple of pairs of Levi’s, a Superdry coat, and a stack of band tees that will start a feeding frenzy among the Depop set.
