Читать книгу The Missing Twin: A gripping debut psychological thriller with a killer twist - Alex Day, Alex Day - Страница 10

‘Ready to paint that town red?’

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and much vodka had been imbibed by the time Edie pulled the scooter out from the shade of a handy oleander bush, clambered aboard and revved the engine.

Laura giggled, delightedly and drunkenly. She had had more vodka than Edie, and nothing to eat.

‘Sis,’ she announced, whirling her sunglasses in an exultant twirl, ‘I’m so, so ready.’ She jumped onto the scooter behind Edie. ‘By the way, I hope you know how to drive this thing,’ she added, resting her feet on the metal supports.

‘Just call me Jensen Button,’ shouted Edie, already speeding off down the steep track to the exit gate.

‘He drives cars,’ shrieked Laura as Edie increased velocity alarmingly quickly. ‘Extremely fast cars!’

‘Whatever.’ Edie was having fun; she hadn’t had anyone ride pillion since she’d taken possession of the scooter and she wanted to make the most of it before Laura insisted on being the driver. ‘Hold on tight!’

‘I am,’ Laura hollered, ‘believe me.’ She gripped Edie’s waist and attempted to blow a stray hair from her forehead.

At this time of year the heat lingered long after twilight and there was not the slightest breeze to bring respite. Being on the scooter, even at top speed, was like driving through treacle, as if the warm air had to be literally pushed aside to allow them to pass. The vodka, plus the unaccustomed weight on the back, meant that Edie wobbled on the sharpest bends, inducing shrieks of alarmed laughter from Laura. They were still laughing when they arrived at the marina, parked the scooter and used its mirrors to put right their dishevelled hair and make-up, bending low to get the fullest view possible.

The marina was the place to come for the smart set, home of super-yachts and their super-rich owners. Edie had notched up a few successful conquests here – before Vuk, of course. The quays were lined with boats flying flags from around the world, and the people strolling up and down and drinking at the numerous bars were dressed to impress; all designer labels and immaculate hair and smile-free pouts. Heads turned as Edie and Laura promenaded past; a perfectly matched pair in tiny shorts and crop tops. Spotting a table just being vacated at the bar with the best vantage point, Edie seized Laura’s arm and dragged her towards it, ordering double vodkas for them both before they had even sat down.

‘I’m a tad short of cash, Ed,’ said Laura, pulling out the lining of her pockets in illustration. ‘I had a bit of a mishap in Italy, got my rucksack stolen with a whole load of euros in it. I was just lucky my passport didn’t go too.’

‘You idiot!’ Edie shook her head in disbelief. ‘First rule of travelling: never keep all your money in one place.’

‘Okay smart ass, rub it in.’ Laura took a swig of her drink. ‘It wasn’t all my money anyway. Just a fair amount of it. I had enough to get the ferry across the Adriatic, find my elusive sister and beg her to rescue me.’

Edie snickered. ‘Glad I’m useful every now and again.’ She clinked her glass against Laura’s. ‘I’ve got enough for us to get by on. My enormous earnings from my marvellous job, for a start, plus I’ve still got some savings.’

They both drank and put their glasses down simultaneously onto the high glass table. Edie could see her reflection, distorted and watery, in the sheen of the polished surface. She thought for a moment before asking the question, cautiously.

‘What about you? Have you spent all your modelling money?’

Laura was notoriously reticent about how she made her living and even more so about how she spent it. When they had finished university, they had both signed up with a minor modelling agency. At 5’9” (Laura) and 5’8” (Edie) neither was tall enough for catwalk work. Edie had got one job for a knitwear catalogue and then given up in disgust, finding it impossible to wear a pink fluffy tank top with a smile on her face.

Laura had done rather better, gaining work from various sources and going to America twice. Edie wasn’t entirely convinced that her earnings were exclusively gained from putting clothes on. She suspected that the reverse activity might be involved somewhere. But Laura divulged nothing and suddenly, without warning or explanation, had given it up and told Edie that she was fed up with being a clothes horse and that they were going travelling.

They’d had a great few months in Eastern Europe – Krakow and Warsaw, Prague and Budapest – and then Laura had met a handsome Slovenian man, much older than her, and gone off to the mountains in search of inner peace and really hot sex.

Edie wasn’t sure exactly what had transpired but had a feeling that the discovery that the man was married with children had had something to do with Laura’s sudden disenchantment with her Slovene lover. The rest of the story, the gory details, the retribution that she was sure her sister would have wreaked on such a traitor, she had yet to hear but she was going to enjoy it when she did.

‘I’ve got a bit of dosh left but it’s in the bank at home – I’ve had to cancel all my cards because of the robbery, so I can’t get hold of it at the moment.’ Laura grimaced dolefully. ‘Pants, isn’t it, being skint.’

Edie reached across the table and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘I can keep us in vodka, no worries. Although,’ she made a sweeping gesture with her head across the crowded forecourt of the bar, ‘the real skill is in not buying our own drinks.’

Laura giggled and nodded. ‘Way to go, Ed.’ Laura was the only person who called Edie ‘Ed’. Edie liked it; it made her feel special and cemented the bond between her and her twin that no one could sever.

Edie continued scrutinising the clientele. She kicked Laura under the table. ‘Those guys over there – you see them? Russian, probably. Let’s see what we can squeeze out of them.’

Laura cast her eyes casually in the direction that Edie was indicating.

‘I’ll drink to that.’ She gave a low wolf-whistle as she appraised the two men, both of whom were dressed in white shirts and chino shorts as if they had just stepped out of a casual wear advert. One sported an ostentatious watch on his left wrist, which even from this distance Edie could tell was a Bvlgari. The other had a pair of mirror sunglasses pushed up onto his head. Both were clean-shaven, blue-eyed and handsome, though one was slim and slight and the other much chunkier – not overweight but solid and sturdy.

It didn’t take long to attract their attention.

***

The rest of the night had passed in a haze of flirting and alcohol and more flirting and more alcohol. Edie recalled going back to the men’s apartment where they had put music on loud and played strip poker, which led quickly to nudity since they were all wearing so little. The watch, she clearly recalled, had stayed firmly on Mr Bvlgari’s wrist although at some point Laura had grabbed the sunglasses and put them on, refusing to give them up for the rest of the evening.

Thinking back on it now, in the cold light of a new morning, tearing her memory apart to remember the details, Edie kept reaching a blank. Disjointed bits of dialogue, snapshots of her and Laura posing naked for pictures on the balcony, of the two of them in the bathroom taking turns to pee, collapsing into heaps of giggles whilst raiding the kitchen cupboards for food, dancing wildly to some Beyoncé number, kept appearing and disappearing in her mind, making no sense and giving no indication of timing or indeed veracity. One thing she knew for certain is that nothing – other than a bit of kissing and cuddling – had happened. It had all just been good, clean fun. Now that Edie had Vuk in her life, the casual flings and one-night stands that had peppered her existence previously no longer appealed. She craved a true partner, a companion, intimacy and love. She longed for Vuk to be the one and only. When – if – he ever reappeared from one of his damn sailing trips, trailing dreary tourists around hidden coves and picturesque harbours, she hoped she would find out for certain that he was of like mind.

In her room, feeling sick and confused, Edie stared around her once more. There really was no one else there. But she herself was there, had woken up in her own room in her own bed and she would never, ever have deserted Laura. That was the code, the rules of the game – one in, both in, never get separated, no one left behind. She slipped her feet into her flip-flops, went to the door and opened it tentatively. The sun hit her full in the face, making her pupils contract painfully and causing the throbbing behind her eyes to intensify. She stepped to the front of the narrow veranda that ran the length of the building and off which each of the staff bedrooms opened. At the far end, by an oleander bush, she could see her scooter, parked haphazardly, leaning heavily to one side.

A dim recollection of leaving it there in the early hours before the dawn surfaced, sending misty tendrils of memory through her sleep-deprived, hungover brain. Had Laura ridden home with her, holding on behind and screeching in alarm when she took a corner too fast or seemed to be coming off the road and heading for the clear water of the bay? She must have done. Edie could not remember unlocking her door, getting undressed and into bed. But she was wearing her pyjamas now so she must have done. It would have been a squash in the single bed with Laura but they had done it before. Had Laura slept beside her last night? She must have done.

It was completely clear that Laura must have done all these things. But beyond that certainty lay nothing. There was absolutely no sign of her.