From the very first day at university, two girls caught each other’s eye. Both pretty, with an uncanny resemblance in their features. From then on, they were inseparable.
Laura believed she deserved more than a life stuck in a sleepy provincial town like her parents. Her mother worked as a shop assistant, her father as a builder—when he wasn’t drinking. After school, she announced she was leaving for London.
Her parents sighed but didn’t argue. They reasoned maybe she’d have better luck than her older sister, who’d married poorly and was now raising two children alone. They couldn’t send much money, but they’d pack her vegetables from their garden and preserves whenever a neighbour made the trip—a train conductor who worked the London route.
Once in London, Laura vowed never to go back. She befriended Kate precisely because Kate was a born-and-bred Londoner. Her father was a doctor, her mother an accountant—a proper, middle-class family.
Kate pitied Laura, and Laura milked it. “My boots are falling apart, but I can’t afford new ones,” she’d sigh. Kate would hand over a spare pair. Nothing to wear to a party? Kate would lend her a dress—lucky their figures matched. Laura stayed over often, especially during exams. The dorm was no place to study.
Laura loathed studying but buried herself in books, though all she wanted was to dance the night away in clubs. *No matter—once I graduate, I’ll stay in London for good, then I’ll live.*
For Kate, everything came effortlessly. Laura envied her, though she’d never show it. As fate would have it, they both fell for the same bloke—handsome, athletic Matt, who’d moved to London from a military town where his father was stationed. Soon, they were a trio, inseparable.
“Matt, how’s it work with them? Taking turns or both at once? Share one,” the lads ribbed. Even lecturers joked, asking who he fancied.
Matt ignored the jibes. He preferred gentle, easygoing Kate. But he hid it, terrified people would assume he’d chosen her for her London postcode.
In lectures, his knee would “accidentally” brush hers. He’d lean in as if to whisper. What no one else noticed, Laura saw instantly—the tension, the frozen expressions. Anger surged through her. *Of course. Kate gets London, a perfect family, and now the best bloke too.*
Matt grew tired of hiding his feelings. He confessed to Kate, and Laura found herself increasingly the third wheel. The trio dissolved. Laura wouldn’t have it. She refused to lose Kate—or surrender Matt.
So she plotted. Fairness demanded she sabotage them, but subtly. Time was short—third year was ending, exams loomed. *What if they’re engaged by graduation?*
*”If only she’d break a leg—but no, he’d carry her everywhere. Better if she got hideous spots. I’ll buy her strawberries…”*
Somehow, fate spared Kate. Laura was the one cursed with spots.
Before exams, Matt’s mother fell seriously ill. He arranged to defer his papers until August and left. The rare London sun baked the pavements. Beach weather, not study weather. After their first exam, the girls wandered the streets. Laura stopped at a bridal boutique.
“Which dress would you pick for your wedding?” she asked.
“Dunno. Haven’t thought about it.”
“Liar. Every girl dreams of a white dress. I’d want that one.” She pointed to a full-skirted gown. “Would it suit me? Let’s try it on—it’s free!”
“In this heat? You’ll boil in tights. Let’s get ice cream,” Kate tugged her away.
“Come on. Pretend I’m the bride, you’re my maid of honour,” Laura wheedled.
“Trying on dresses before you’re engaged is bad luck,” Kate warned.
“Superstitious rubbish. Everyone does it!”
Grudgingly, Kate agreed.
The shop was stifling, the assistant bored. Laura played bride-to-be, scrutinising gowns. She chose one, and Kate admitted it suited her—ready for the registry, if only she had a groom.
“We’ve a perfect dress, but it rarely fits anyone. You’re slim—it’ll look stunning on you. I’ll give you a discount,” the assistant said to Kate.
“It’s my friend getting married, not me,” Kate flustered.
“That’s fixable. Just try it.”
Inside the dressing room, the gown clung to Kate like it was tailored for her—elegant, no frills.
“It needs a veil,” Laura muttered.
“A tiara would suit better,” the assistant suggested.
“Bring it,” Laura snapped, hiding her envy. *Perfect, as always.*
Her own dress now looked cheap in comparison. The assistant fixed Kate’s hair, adding a jewelled branch. Laura’s stomach twisted.
“Can I take a photo? You look incredible,” the assistant asked.
“Me too.” Laura grabbed her phone. “Smile. Now turn—look back at me. Perfect.”
“Enough.” Kate retreated to change.
Laura flicked through the photos. *A little editing, then I’ll send it to Matt: “While you’re gone, your girl’s getting married.”* A man lingered outside—phone to ear, waiting. *Could he look more like a groom?* She barely stifled a triumphant grin.
After exams, Laura didn’t go home. Her sister and kids had taken her room. She phoned—said she’d found work, wouldn’t return. Her mother was relieved. “Olly’s children need so much now…”
“Typical. The second I say I’m employed, the money stops.”
“They’ve got it hard. Your sister needs help too,” Kate soothed.
“She knew he’d leave her.”
“I won’t leave you. Come on—Mum made borscht.”
A month later, Laura sent Matt the photo.
He returned in August, grim-faced.
“Your mum worse?” Kate pressed.
“No, she’s fine. Congrats, by the way.”
“On what?”
“Your wedding. Why didn’t you tell me?” He showed the photo.
“That was a joke! Laura dragged me in. Matt, let me explain—”
“Great joke.” He walked away.
“Why’d you send that?” Kate rounded on Laura.
“You looked beautiful. I wanted him to propose already!”
“Now he thinks I’m lying.”
Matt ignored her calls. Kate avoided Laura, but Laura didn’t care. Term was starting—her parents’ money would resume. She didn’t need Kate. She’d have Matt.
In lectures, Kate sat alone, stealing glances at Laura and Matt. Then his mother died. Laura clung to him, never letting him grieve alone. Soon, they’d filed for a marriage license. Explanations became unnecessary.
His father was transferred to teach at Sandhurst. They married, switched to remote study, and left.
Two years after graduation, Kate married her father’s friend’s son—her parents’ choice. She didn’t care. They never loved each other. No children came. He strayed; they divorced after seven years.
* * *
“Why are you going? That village is derelict!” her mother pleaded.
“I need space. I can’t breathe here.”
“Go to Spain, then. Or Turkey!”
“I want solitude, not crowds.” Her voice frayed. “You wanted me to marry Henry. We hated each other. He had a girl before me—never stopped seeing her. Did you know? I’ve endured enough. I’ll decide what’s next.”
The house was smaller than she remembered. Her grandfather had built it, hoping it’d cradle generations. But his son left for London, married, climbed the career ladder. The old man died years ago; the house stood empty.
The gate creaked open. Inside, dust and damp clung to the air. She lit the stove, fetched water from the neighbour’s—a bearded man who offered help but kept his distance.
That evening, she brought him pancakes her mother had packed. His door was ajar. Inside, a copy of *The Shining* lay open—her favourite. Tucked inside: the photo Laura had sent Matt.
She looked up. The man stepped forward.
Only then did she recognise him.
“You?”
“Me.”
“But why?”
“Why are *you* here?”
They talked over tea in the garden, the past unspooling between them.
“I was young. Stupid. Realised too late Laura and I were wrong. After Dad died, she didn’t pretend to love me. We split. This place—it’s all I have left.”
“Why didn’t you come back to me?”
“You were married. I wouldn’t be that desperate bloke.”
“We’re divorced now. I came here to think… and found you.”
Darkness fell. Mosquitoes bit; he walked her home. At her door, she willed him to act.
*Don’t let me go.*
He caught her, pulled her closeHe kissed her under the moonlit sky, and for the first time in years, the weight in her chest finally lifted.
