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DELILAH

I’ve always joked with people that I’m the evil twin.

I’m not evil though, I promise you. I don’t have the moustache for it. But if you asked my father which of us would be the most likely to save the world and which would wreck it, Bea would definitely rock the hero role.

Not that I hold that against her.

Especially since she’s currently out trying to save me from getting fired from my dream job after I made a slight wardrobe miscalculation and put myself in hospital.

Don’t walk down steep stairs in new high heels, kids!

But don’t panic. I’m okay. My ankle looks like a prize-winning turnip and my pride has taken a severe dent, but other than that, I’m good.

It does hurt, though.

A fact I’m desperately trying to hide from Jem – my sister’s business partner and best friend from uni and the guy who can make my blood boil just by raising his condescending eyebrow in my direction.

Which he does a lot.

‘You’ll do yourself a mischief one day, making faces like that,’ I mutter at the side of his head after just such an occurrence as he turns back from berating me for putting Bea out today to stare through the windscreen of the taxi he’s come to collect me in from A&E.

I have to admit, I was shocked when he messaged to ask how I was doing earlier.

He’s the last person I thought would care.

Except for maybe my dad. He’s not exactly the nurturing type either.

I’m much more likely to get a lecture from him about all the ways I’m going to mess my life up, unless I follow his advice to the nth degree.

Which of course I’m not going to do.

But I am going to prove to him I’m not the hot mess he takes me for. Even if it bloody kills me.

Jem – my other nemesis (is it possible to have two? Surely they’re meant to be inimitable?) – is ignoring me now. It’s his usual modus operandi around me, so I’m not entirely surprised by this.

Which is why I was blown away when he suggested he pick me up from the hospital after my X-ray.

Though any warm feelings this brought about turned immediately tepid the moment I saw the expression on his face as he stomped into the waiting room to find me there with my leg propped on the seat opposite and a pair of crutches leaning jauntily against the wall beside me.

‘Seriously, Dee, how do you manage to attract so much chaos?’ he’d muttered, directing the first, but definitely not the last, eyebrow raise of the day at me.

‘I don’t need a lecture from you, Mr Living-By-Numbers, thanks very much,’ I’d quipped back, flashing him a serene smile.

‘Maybe so, but I happen to have two working legs, so who’s winning at life right now?’ he’d pointed out.

I’d had to give him that. My ankle was killing me and I was desperate to get out of the hospital with its migraine-inducing overhead lights and disinfectant-with-an-underlying-stench-of sweat smell.

‘Why are you here, anyway, if it’s such a major disruption for you?’ I’d asked.

‘Because Bea’s going to be worrying about you, so I thought I’d help her out by making sure you didn’t get yourself into any more trouble between leaving the hospital and getting back to her flat.’

‘So, you’re doing this for her then, not me?’

‘Got it in one.’

Charming.

Which is actually a word I’d never use to describe Jem. He’s the most uptight, po-faced?—

‘Thanks, mate,’ I hear him say to the driver now as we pull up outside Bea’s flat – which is currently doubling as her and Jem’s office, as well as the place I’m going to be staying today, because there’s a snowflake’s chance in hell I’m getting up the steep stairs to my flat with my ankle in this state.

So there’ll be no reprieve from his snarky presence for a while.

Jem gets out and, to my surprise, strides round to my side of the car and opens my door for me, holding out his hand in a helpful manner.

‘How gentlemanly of you,’ I say with a grin, putting out my own hand to be taken.

He doesn’t return my smile and ignores my proffered digits. ‘Pass me your crutches,’ he says with a reproving expression on his face.

Huh.

I really don’t need this attitude from him right now. I’m already feeling enough of an idiot as it is for hurting myself.

But I guess I’ll have to suck it up. I’d be struggling to get out of the cab and onto my crutches on my own right now, after all.

So I slide them out from where they’ve been resting on the backseat and pass them to him, hoping my humiliation isn’t showing on my toasty-warm face.

Why do these mishaps only ever seem to happen to me?

By the time I’ve levered myself out of the cab, he’s got them propped up straight, ready for me to fit them under my arms.

‘Thanks,’ I say in my sunniest voice, determined not to let him know how much his disapproval is getting to me.

He just grunts.

I make my way, as quickly as my injury will allow, up to the Bath townhouse Bea’s looking after for our dad while it’s being turned into flats.

She’s living in the already converted garden flat, which thankfully only means climbing down one short flight of steps to the front door instead of up three precariously steep flights of stairs at my own place.

Turning to watch me hobble to the top of the steps, Jem holds his hand out again and this time, I just thrust my crutches towards him and lean against the wall for support while he takes them down to the front door.

On his return, he finally deigns to touch me by sliding his arm around my middle so I can lean on him and hop down the stone steps on one leg.

The moment we reach the bottom, he immediately releases me, as if it’s horrifying to be close to my body, lets us in with his key, then strides off towards the kitchen.

‘Want a cup of tea? I’m putting the kettle on,’ he calls back to me.

Okay, so he can’t be that pissed off if he’s willing to make me a hot drink.

Look, I do recognise that he’s probably a good guy, deep down. If Bea likes him, then he has to be, I guess. She’s a smart cookie and one of the kindest people I know. Too kind, maybe.

But it’s the way he looks at me, like I’m something unsavoury he’s stepped in, that turns him from hero to Captain Zero in my estimation.

‘I’d love one,’ I purr at him, determined not to let him see how much he bothers me.

Because he does bother me.

I’ve tried to be friendly whenever we’ve been around each other, but it’s like he’s determined not to like me, no matter what I do.

I get that I’m not as serious a person as he and Bea are, but I’m not rude or unkind.

Just a bit unfocused maybe. Clearly, this doesn’t sit well with him and he lets me know it every chance he gets. At least it feels that way.

I’ve installed myself on Bea’s king-sized bed, propping my back up against her pillows and my foot up on the cushions from her chaise longue, when Jem comes into the room, carrying a mug of tea. He puts it onto the bedside table next to me without a word and immediately turns to go.

‘Jem?’ I say, not entirely sure what I’m going to ask him, but experiencing a strong urge to delay him leaving me right away. I’m feeling a bit antsy now and I know for sure that boredom is going to set in quickly once I’m on my own.

‘Yeah?’

‘Uh. Thanks again for coming to get me. Seriously. It was kind of you.’

‘Sure.’

‘Can I… can I help you with anything today? To make up for the time you’ve lost?’ I flash him a gracious smile, hoping he’ll take it the right way.

‘You can let me get back to work,’ he shoots back, his voice flat and cool.

My insides squirm with humiliation. How does he always manage to make me feel like such a low-life?

‘Fine,’ I reply, matching his cool tone.

If that’s the way he wants to play it, then so be it. I don’t need his approval.

His returning nod is curt and he turns away and walks out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Hmph .

Okay. I’ll leave him alone and let him work then.

Alone, alone, alone.

I’ll be fine here on my own. I’ve got my phone and a couple of books I can read on my reading app. Or I can watch a movie on the TV Bea has in here.

My thoughts slide to my sister and I wonder how she’s getting on at my job.

She’s such a sweetheart to have agreed to step in and work there today – especially as it’s meant she’s had to pretend to be me in front of my boss – who hopefully won’t be around much today, so won’t notice the switcheroo.

We’re identical twins, but our personalities are about as different as you can get, so it’s not a given that we’ll get away with it.

And I know the subterfuge won’t be sitting well with Bea. She’s as straight as they come and always does everything by the book.

With any luck, the event we’re running for my boss, Jonah’s, best buddy will go smoothly today with Bea at the helm and any thoughts he’s been entertaining about firing me will slip permanently from his mind.

I really hope so, because I can’t afford to lose my job right now. It’s a really well-paid role, which I’m totally unqualified for and was lucky to land.

I think the gods must have been looking down on me the day I interviewed for it because he hired me as his new marketing and events manager on the spot after only talking to me for a few minutes.

I suspect he was desperate to fill the position quickly.

I wasn’t about to let on that I didn’t know what the heck I was doing and that I’d fluffed up my CV with a few minor untruths (see Bea’s CV for reference).

I figured I’d work it out on the job. Trouble is, it turns out there’s a lot more to know about that role than I imagined.

But the way I see it, I spotted an opportunity and took it.

These things don’t fall into your lap every day, so when they do, you have to grab them with both hands.

Luckily, I have a brilliant sister who is very well qualified for it, even though she’s chosen to set up a business with Jem instead of working for someone else.

Bloody Jem.

How can she stand to be around someone so uptight? I’d go crazy if I had to sit across from him and his condescending glare every day.

I stare at the door that he walked through twenty minutes ago.

He’ll be plugged in to his computer, coding right now. Living the dream.

Some dream.

I can’t imagine how stultifying it must be to sit at a desk, typing nonsense onto a screen all day.

At least I’m not doing that for a living.

Forcing my thoughts away from my sister’s aggravating business partner, I try reading for a bit, but neither of the books I start grab me.

Then I doom-scroll on social media for a while, but I can barely concentrate on the images flashing in front of my eyes and they all seem to blur into one.

I lean back and sigh, tapping my fingers against my mobile, aware of my nerves pulsing under my skin.

My ankle is throbbing with pain and it’s making it impossible to concentrate.

I’m not sure what to do with myself right now. I seem to have too much energy to sit still.

I take a sip of my lukewarm tea. Jem’s made it with just the right amount of milk. At least that’s one positive about him – he makes a decent cuppa.

I wonder what he’s up to right now? I could actually be helpful if he’d let me. I could look through Bea’s business emails and weed out the unimportant ones and alert Jem to anything that needs his immediate attention. Surely that would be useful? To have someone picking up the slack today?

And I can’t just sit here.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I tentatively stand up, putting most of my weight onto my good foot. Yeah, I can easily make it from here to the office where Jem is without my crutches.

I’ll just pop my head in and see if he can use me.