Beth lay with her eyes closed, half-listening as Emily sat cross-legged on the opposite bed, reading aloud from a textbook. The sudden blare of a pop tune from Beth’s phone made Emily snap her book shut and shoot her a disapproving look.
Beth answered reluctantly, then sat bolt upright. Within seconds, she was on her feet, shoving clothes into a gym bag before zipping it shut and scrambling towards the door where their coats and boots hung.
“Where are you going? What’s happened?” Emily asked, worry creeping into her voice.
“Mum’s had a heart attack. The neighbour just called—she’s been taken to hospital,” Beth said, yanking on her boots.
“There’s an exam tomorrow! She’s in good hands—take it, then go,” Emily urged, watching Beth zip her coat.
“Cover for me at the admin office. I’ll sort it out when I’m back. I’ll take resits over the holidays. My bus leaves in forty minutes,” Beth replied, already out the door.
“Call me when—” But Beth was gone, the clatter of her heels fading down the corridor.
Emily sighed, turned back—then spotted Beth’s phone charger still plugged in. Barefoot, she snatched it up and sprinted after her.
“Beth! Wait!” she yelled, thundering down the stairs.
The front door slammed. Emily leaped the last few steps, shoved it open, and skidded onto the icy path outside.
“Beth!”
Beth turned, saw the charger, and jogged back.
“Thanks!” she called over her shoulder, already running again.
“Good grief, what’s all this racket? One nearly takes the door off its hinges, the other’s running about barefoot in December!” The hall warden, Mrs. Wilkins, scowled from her desk.
“Sorry, Beth’s mum’s been rushed to hospital. It’s freezing—can I go?” Emily stammered, shifting on the gritty floor.
“Oh, Lord!” Mrs. Wilkins slumped into her chair and crossed herself. “Heaven help us!”
Back in the room, Emily brushed sand from her feet, tidied Beth’s mess, slipped on slippers, and filled the kettle. The exam loomed, but tea first.
A timid knock came just after dark.
“Who is it?” No answer. Emily opened the door—and there stood James, holding a small bouquet.
“Come in,” she said, letting him step inside before adding, “Beth’s gone home.”
“But her exam’s tomorrow.”
“I’ll sort it. She can resit later.” Emily’s eyes lingered on the flowers.
“They’re for you,” James said, handing them over.
“Thanks. Fancy a cuppa?” She took a vase from the windowsill. “I’ll fetch water—get comfortable.”
James only removed his shoes. He drifted to Beth’s bed, sat, and ran a hand over the cheap blanket as if smoothing it for her.
When Emily returned, she set the vase down, stepped back, and admired the flowers.
“Lovely. What are they?”
“Sweet peas,” James said, rising. “I should go.”
“Wait—did you and Beth have plans?” Emily rushed.
“Got tickets to that gig at the O2.”
“Take me instead! No sense wasting them.”
James hesitated. “But your exam—”
“Been studying all day. I need a break.”
He wavered. Beth was gone. They’d only just started dating—was it really betrayal to go with her flatmate?
“Alright,” he said.
“Brilliant!” Emily clapped. “Wait outside—just need to change!”
Five minutes later, she emerged, mascara freshened, lips glossed, hair pinned up. James blinked.
“Come on—we’ll miss the support act,” he said.
At the gig, Emily bounced, arms aloft, singing along. James caught her glancing at him, and soon, he was swept up too, shouting lyrics with the crowd.
Afterwards, walking back, they dissected the show.
“That closing track—unreal!” Emily hummed the hook.
“Yeah, and when they did—” James joined in, mangling the words but laughing.
At the dorm, the door was locked.
“Mrs. Wilkins is on. She’ll never buzz us in,” Emily groaned.
James grabbed her hand. “This way.” Rounding the corner, they spotted two girls clambering through a ground-floor window. “Quick—before it closes!”
He boosted Emily up. Hands inside hauled her in—then a whistle shrilled nearby.
“Hurry!” she hissed.
James vaulted in after her. Emily yanked the curtains shut as footsteps faded. The room’s occupants giggled.
“Cheers. Let’s go,” James muttered, steering Emily out.
They bolted upstairs, collapsed into her room, and burst out laughing.
“Should probably go,” James said after.
The room was dark—neither had turned on the light.
“Stay. I like you. Really like you,” Emily whispered, leaning in.
She tilted her face up, lips parted—
Beth returned to a silent dorm at term’s end. Most students—James and Emily included—weren’t back yet. She arranged her resit, submitted the hospital note. Her mum would recover, slowly.
The exam was a scrape-by pass. Lectures resumed, but Emily never returned—no calls, no texts. The office said she’d taken leave due to illness.
Soon, a new girl moved in. Studies, James… No time to dwell on Emily. Before long, she was forgotten. James never mentioned the gig, what came after. It felt like a dream—unreal.
Twenty-one years later
“Mum! Dad! I’m home!” A girl—James’s mirror image—burst in.
“How’s uni?” he asked, lowering the paper.
“Let her change first,” Vera called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”
At the table, their daughter frowned.
“Mum, Dad—today I met this girl at uni. Everyone says we’re twins.”
“Funny, that. They say everyone’s got a double. More potatoes?” Vera said.
“Dad, you okay?” Their daughter nudged James, who’d gone still.
“Sorry. Full. You spoke to her?”
“Yeah. She’s a finalist. Get this—her name’s Claire. Claire *Brightman*.”
“Brightman…” Vera’s eyes narrowed. “My old roommate was Emily Brightman. First year. Dropped out after term. Remember, James?”
“That’s it! Emily Brightman. Pretty name, yeah?” their daughter chirped.
James choked on his tea. “Blistering hot—how many times have I said?”
Vera fetched cold water. He waved it off, left the table.
“Really that alike?” Vera asked his retreating back.
“Spitting image.”
James feigned sleep on the sofa, mind racing. *Coincidence? No. It happened. Admit it. Why else would she leave? Idiot.*
“James. You’ll ruin your sleep.” Vera’s hand brushed his shoulder. “You ill?”
“No.”
Dawn crept in before he slept. He called in sick, claiming a toothache—then drove to the dorm.
“Claire Brightman—is she in?” he asked the warden.
Not Mrs. Wilkins, but close enough. All wardens blurred together.
“You her?”
A girl descended the stairs. “Who’re you?”
“Step outside?”
She hesitated but followed.
“I didn’t know. Your mother and I—once, that’s all. What time’s your last lecture? I’ll wait.”
“Three.”
He parked outside the uni gates, nerves fraying. His daughter might spot him. At 3:20, Claire appeared.
“Hungry?” he asked when she slid into the passenger seat.
“Just talk.”
He told her everything. “I never knew. If I had—”
“What? Would you have left Vera?”
“I don’t know. Your mum—is she…?”
“Died in childbirth. Gran said it was rhesus complications. She wouldn’t let Mum terminate. Regretted it after.”
James handed her a card. “If you ever need anything—call.”
“Worried Vera will find out?” Claire smirked.
“No. I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Done? Can I go?”
That evening, James confessed.
“Twenty-one years. Why now?” Vera asked, the room dark around them.
“Because Claire exists. She looks like our girl. If you can’t forgive me—”
“What then? Would you not have married me?”
“No. But I wouldn’t have abandoned Emily.”
“God, why tell me?” Vera’s voice cracked.
“Claire might’ve told our daughter. I wanted it from me. You guessed too, didn’t you? All these years, I never once—”
“I won’t leave. It was ages ago. But I might not forget.”
Their daughter took it in stride. “A sister? Cool! Will she live with us?”And as the years passed, the two families grew closer, weaving their shared past into the fragile, beautiful tapestry of the present.
