Book of Lies

  Then pieces click into place, and I sit bolt upright. Quinn lived with her grandmother. Mum’s mother. So if I can find Mum’s past—​where she lived as a child, with her own mother—​maybe I can find Quinn’s present.

  The only thing I know about Mum’s past is that she worked in a hotel on Dartmoor. Dad said he’d contacted them; they’d said she wasn’t working there anymore and they didn’t know where she’d gone. But did he ask them where she came from?

  It’s a long shot. So many years have gone by—​even if I find the right hotel, it’d be lucky if anyone who remembers her still works there. Even if I find out where Mum came from, our grandmother could have moved with Quinn long ago. But I can’t think of anything else to try.

  Back on the laptop in my room, I search for hotels on and around Dartmoor, and generate another list—​names, places, phone numbers. I try the first one.

  “Hello? I’m doing a family tree for school and trying to trace my relatives. Apparently about eighteen years ago, my aunt worked in your hotel—​her name was Isobel Blackwood? You only opened ten years ago? Oh. OK, sorry.”

  I phone another one, and another, but come up with nothing. There must be a way to narrow this down. Dad said he couldn’t remember what the hotel was called—​Mum probably “suggested” to him that he should forget the name of the place. But he told me the sign said something like two rivers.

  I scan the list. There is a hotel called Two Bridges. Could it be that one?

  All right: one more try. I dial the number. It rings: once, twice, three times, four . . . “Good afternoon, Two Bridges Hotel!”

  “Hello! I’m an A-level student doing a family tree for history class. I’m hoping you can help me trace a relative who used to work there?”

  “How long ago?”

  “I think about eighteen years.”

  “Oh, sorry, I’ve only been here a few years. I don’t think there’s anyone working here from back then who’d know, though I could ask some of the regulars. What was her name?”

  “Blackwood. Isobel Blackwood.”

  “Did you say Blackwood? That’s funny, we’ve got a cleaner by that name now! Quinn. But she’s been off because her grandmother is ill. And you want someone from years ago. I’ll just check at the bar . . . Hello? Hello?”

  I stare at the receiver in my hand; her voice becomes faint. I click End Call. Quinn Blackwood. Quinn worked at this hotel. Whether or not Isobel ever did no longer matters. If Quinn worked there, they must have lived close by.

  I’ve found her.

  Quinn

  Clouds are drawing in. Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself as I walk away from the school. Piper’s jacket may be cute, but it’s not up to October weather. I shift her heavy book bag on my shoulder and sigh. Why didn’t I pay more attention when we were driving here? I have no idea where I am.

  The cold I feel isn’t just from the dropping temperature; it’s more. It’s deep inside. For a moment, just a fleeting instant, I’d let myself forget. I’d felt like this could be my life: I could have friends, go to school, be normal. But Piper’s friends are forming ranks around her, not me. They don’t know me. If Piper told them about me and what I’ve done, masquerading as her, they’d be angry.

  But it’s not just that. They were right—​Gran and Isobel were right. The words are echoing through my head. The darkness will find me. It has found me; it will claim me soon. I’m weak. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t. Ever since I left Dartmoor, I’ve taken the wrong path: jealousy, lying, deliberately causing trouble. What will I do next?

  Walking isn’t enough to calm me, and I start to run, faster and faster, down streets I don’t recognize—​but I can’t run away from what is inside me. Wherever I go, it comes along. Tears start to blur my vision. The heat from running, from gasping air in and out of my lungs, warms my skin but not the cold dread inside.

  After a while I realize that my feet have found the way, that I know where I am again. I’m heading straight for Zak’s house. I slow to a walk when I reach his road, and stop outside the house. His car is out front. I know he’s working today—​he must have walked to work.

  I find the spare key Piper gave me when I left last night and open the door. Ness bounds around the corner. I drop to the hall floor on my knees and wrap my arms around her, bury my face in her fur. Any attempt at control long gone, I’m crying in great, gulping sobs.

  The door to the front room opens. A hand, a warm hand, is touching my hair. Stroking it. I look up through my tears: it’s Zak. Of course it is.

  His hand finds mine, pulls me to my feet. Arms wrap around me, hold me close. And the cold starts to go away. Just a little at first, but then there is a rush of heat through my whole body, heat that starts inside and rushes through my arms, my legs, flushes my face.

  I open my eyes and look up at him. He leans down, kisses the tears away from my cheeks. I close my eyes again, and he kisses my eyelids. I tilt my face back, and his lips are on mine—​gentle, sweet, warm, but that isn’t enough. My hands weave through his hair and pull him closer. And I kiss him back, desperate for more. His hands are on my hips. I’m pressed into the wall, his thumbs stroking around my hipbones, just above Piper’s low-slung jeans.

  Piper.

  Reason fights to return. He must think I’m Piper. I try to pull away, but his hands are tracing slow circles of fire on my skin.

  The front door opens.

  Piper

  I just stand there, mouth hanging open, like an idiot, staring at Zak and Quinn. Full-on kissing? And not just kissing.

  Quinn springs away from Zak, her eyes wide, panicked.

  He looks between us, confusion taking over. He shakes his head. “What’s going on here?” he says.

  I swallow, and manage to find my voice. “By the looks of things, you were making out with my sister.”

  “I don’t . . . what . . . Quinn?” He turns to her. “Is that you? Why didn’t you say?”

  She’s shaking her head, backing away—​lips red from kissing, cheeks’ violent flush fading to pale.

  “How could you do that?” Zak says to Quinn.

  Her heart is breaking; it’s mirrored in her eyes. Just there—​it cracks, with an almost audible snap. Broken.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She runs up the stairs; the door slams.

  Zak is rubbing his eyes, as if that will make this go away. He turns to me. “You have to believe me, I thought it was you. Jasmine texted me that you’d left school upset. I tried calling, but you didn’t answer. I left work and drove to your school but didn’t see you anywhere on the way. Came home, and then the door opened, and she was there—​crying. She even had your school bag. You told me you were going to school.” He gestures; the bag is on the floor. “I thought it was you.”

  My arms are crossed, but I’m strangely still and calm inside. “You really seriously couldn’t tell the difference? Does she kiss just the same as me?”

  He doesn’t answer, but it’s there, in his eyes. Some part of him knew. At some point he felt the difference, but he didn’t stop.

  “I’m sorry, Piper. I’m truly sorry. I thought it was you. I thought it was you.” Words repeated to make them more true? There is shock and disbelief mixed with something else: guilt.

  To start with, you did. I look away, shake my head a little, and lie. “I’m not angry with you, Zak. It’s Quinn. She knew you made a mistake but didn’t set you straight.”

  There are hesitant footsteps coming down the stairs.

  Quinn is back in her own clothes. Her face is white and determined, but she doesn’t quite look up, doesn’t meet our eyes.

  “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. I’m leaving,” she says.

  Quinn

  “Wait,” Piper says. One word, just one. I want to run out that door before the will to go leaves me, before her angry words can find their mark.

  My steps slow; I look back. After everything I’ve done, I owe it to her to lis
ten to what she wants to say.

  “Give us a moment,” she says to Zak, and he goes into the front room and shuts the door. I watch him go, hurting inside. Could this really be the last time I ever see him? Can that be true? I force myself to turn my eyes toward Piper. She looks calm; how can she be so calm? She leans against the wall, the same place I was, when Zak . . .

  No. I mustn’t think about that; not now, not ever.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, voice quiet.

  “I . . . I don’t know. Home, I guess. Where else is there?”

  Then she says words I’m not expecting. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

  “What did you say?”

  “No matter what, Quinn, you’re still my sister. Obviously if you go near Zak again, I’ll have to kill you.” A trace of a smile. “But you’re still part of my family. Don’t go.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand. After what I did.” I swallow. Kissing Zak was about the worst thing I could have come up with to do to Piper, but I didn’t plan it. I wouldn’t have—​not just for what it would do to her, but what it would do to me. “And that’s not all I’ve done,” I say, wanting to push her to make me go.

  “Go on.”

  “I was you at school today. Your English presentation is tomorrow, and I said your math coursework would be done by then, too. And I kind of flirted with Tim.”

  Annoyance crosses her face; she shrugs. “No matter. I’ll wiggle out of all of that mess.”

  “What is with you? I don’t understand. You should hate me.” I do.

  “We’re family. That’s it. That’s enough. Don’t you get it?”

  My tears are back again, and I ignore them, just let them fall as I stand frozen by the door.

  “Quinn? Please stay. At least until we can make things right between us.”

  “After everything I’ve done?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “If you knew half the stuff I’ve done, you wouldn’t be so freaked.”

  Piper’s words ring true, and I stare back at her: my sister, my twin. Every inch the same—​my face, my lips—​just the same as the ones Zak kissed.

  What stuff could Piper have done? Maybe we have more in common than I thought. But if we’re the same, then why were we separated? I don’t understand.

  “You have to tell me what happened with Zak,” Piper says.

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just—​I was really upset, and crying, and he held me. I wasn’t thinking about being me instead of you. I wasn’t thinking at all.”

  She stares at me while I talk. My words are true, but they sound lame, so lame.

  But she nods once. “I believe you. I wish it hadn’t happened, but I forgive you. The next time you need a shoulder to cry on, try mine.” And she holds out a hand.

  I hesitate, then take a trembling step toward her. Her arms go around me. They’re softer than Zak’s—​his arms that I won’t feel again. And I’m crying because she is holding me despite the things I’ve done. She knows the darkness, and she still holds me—​something that Isobel never did, that Gran never did. Not like this.

  Maybe Piper is the only one who can ever really know me, understand me. Just as I am.

  And I’m crying because of Zak. She’s forgiven me, so I can never go near him. Not ever again.

  Piper

  The door opens, and there is a throat-clearing sound. “I’ve made tea,” Zak says.

  Quinn buries her face in my shoulder. I gesture for Zak to go. “I can’t face him,” she whispers.

  “Let me talk to him. I’ll tell him what you told me. Just wait here a minute. Don’t go. Promise?”

  “All right. I promise.”

  I leave her in the hall. Will she still be there when I get back? Somehow I know she will be.

  I step into the kitchen and close the door.

  “Hi,” Zak says. “OK out there?”

  “I think so.” I sigh, hold out a hand, and he takes it.

  “OK in here, too?”

  “Yes. Though you’re obviously an idiot. And will need to be suitably punished at some point.”

  “Is Quinn still leaving?”

  “She needs to, I think. But not just yet, and not alone.” He raises an eyebrow. “She’s afraid to face you.”

  “I’m a bit weirded out myself.”

  “The thing is, Zak, I should have listened to you. You were right all along.”

  “Was I?”

  “All this has been too much for Quinn. I don’t know how things were where she grew up, but she’s pretty messed up. And now it’s all bubbled over, and she’s kind of lost it. I don’t think she meant what happened with you to happen. She was just so upset, and you were a shoulder to cry on.”

  “You’re amazingly understanding.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  He kisses my forehead. His lips are warm and soft, but they’ve changed. They’ve changed forever. There is a well of hurt, deep inside me, and I don’t know what to do with it.

  But one thing I am certain of: Quinn can’t leave. Not without me. We must be together.

  “So, what happens next?” he says.

  “That’s up to Quinn. Shall I bring her in?” He nods, and I open the door. She stands where I left her, same position, as if she hasn’t moved or even breathed the whole time—​forlorn, face streaked. Scared: she looks scared.

  I hold out a hand. “It’s OK. Come on.”

  Quinn

  My hands are wrapped around a mug of hot tea. My eyes are looking everywhere but at Zak’s face. His shoulder—​that’s all right. His hand, there on the table. Not his face.

  A shoulder where my head rested; a hand that traced fire on my skin. I shiver.

  “Quinn,” he says, and despite my resolution not to, my eyes are drawn up to his. His gaze is steady. “It’s OK. Piper explained, and I understand what happened. But we’ve devised a secret handshake now, so we can’t have any more confusion.”

  A trace of a smile crosses my face, but words are slow to come. It will never happen again. No secret handshake needed.

  “It’s my turn to say something,” Piper says. “It’s not something I generally ever say, so feel honored.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m sorry. I see how upset you’ve become. Zak did warn me that this situation wasn’t good for you, and I didn’t listen to him. I was wrong. And I think it’s time for us to be completely honest with each other, and with everyone else.”

  Can Piper, who lies so easily, ever be completely honest? But I owe her trust. She’s my sister. My family. Today she’s shown me what these things can mean.

  “Do you mean that you are going to go to your dad, together?” Zak says.

  “Yes,” Piper says. She looks at me. “If you want to.”

  Panic is rising. Do I know how to be part of a family? Do I know how to forgive someone just because they’re related to me, like Piper has done? A whisper inside says that if things were reversed, if Zak were my boyfriend and Piper had kissed him, I wouldn’t forgive her. I’m ashamed.

  “But that’s not all,” Piper says. “The other half of the picture is that I want us to go to your home together, too: where you lived.”

  I stare back at her. “I’m not sure you’d like it.”

  “Is it the place where our mum grew up?” Piper asks.

  I hesitate, then nod. “She was born there; our gran was born there. Me too, so I guess that means you as well.”

  “You see—​it’s all part of my past, of who I am. I want to go there. And I want to meet our grandmother.”

  “She’s not there anymore.”

  “Even so. Can we go there together? To Dartmoor, isn’t it?”

  Something inside shifts and gives, just a little. I nod.

  She smiles. When Piper is really happy about something, she is radiant in a way I never have been, no matter how alike we are otherwise. Something catches in my throat; it’s hard to look away, and I feel warm inside. This is w
hy her friends and everyone else want to make her happy; they want her to look at them like she is looking at me, right now.

  “Thank you for being honest with me,” she says, and I want to tell her more.

  “My grandmother’s house is on the moors, near a small place called Two Bridges. I’ve lived there all my life. When I came here, it was the first time I’d ever been away from home.”

  Her smile somehow deepens; her hand reaches out and holds mine. “Where is our grandmother?”

  “She had a stroke. But she’s all right. She’s in hospital.”

  “We could visit her there?”

  “I guess.”

  “Quinn? Should we go to Dad first, or Dartmoor?” Piper says, and there are two sets of eyes on me, wanting a decision. For one who isn’t used to being allowed to make decisions, this is frightening.

  “Well, as we’re here, we could go to Dad first . . .” A slight frown lurks between Piper’s eyes. I owe her, don’t I? But what she wants is to go to the one place I never want to go to again. I push my fear down inside. “But not yet. Are you sure you want to meet Gran? She’s not an easy person to be around. Even worse than me.”

  Piper laughs. “Family put up with each other’s faults, right?”

  I’m not sure Gran’s issues are quite in the category of faults. I’m afraid to go back, to face her, afraid I’ll never be allowed to leave again if I do. But if Piper is there with me, it’ll be different. There’ll be somebody on my side for a change—​and not just anyone. Knowing it is Piper makes me less afraid.

  “All right. Let’s do it!” I say.

  “One thing, though. Until we’ve told our dad that we are twins, we can’t let anybody else know there are two of us. It’s not fair to him.”

  I look back at Piper. So, she wants me to stay a secret. She has a point about it not being fair to tell anyone else before our family. Still, there is part of me that wonders: is there any other reason why she wants it this way? But what other reason could there be?