Another Me (11 page)

Everyone looked bewildered.

‘I certainly knew that some of you were thick.' Suddenly his voice roared. ‘I just didn't realise the whole
blinking lot of you were.'

Everyone glanced about sheepishly. Mr Hardie started striding about looking from one of us to the other. His eye finally fell on me and his eyebrow rose.

‘Except, to my amazement . . . young Fay here.'

I looked around at everyone and smiled. He would soon find out I was thick, too, when I actually did the test. He stepped towards me and slapped a jotter on the desk in front of me. ‘You got top marks. Hardly a question wrong. How did you manage it?'

My mouth went dry. He was winding me up. ‘Pardon, sir?'

He nodded. ‘Surprised you as well, didn't it?' He opened the jotter and pointed. ‘There you go. Top marks. Congratulations.'

I went ice cold at what I saw. My name.

My handwriting.

And the date.

Yesterday.

‘Is something wrong, Fay?' Mr Hardie bent down to me. I must have gone so pale, like a ghost. I could feel sweat form on my top lip. I was shaking my head. I pushed the jotter away from me as if it was contaminated.

‘This isn't mine, sir,' I said. My voice sounded strange – disembodied, as if it didn't belong to me.

Mr Hardie found that funny. ‘Exactly what I thought, Fay. Even when you were sitting there doing the test, I kept watching you and thinking, I've never seen our Fay looking so intent during a science test. But, there you are, you proved me wrong.'

Unsteadily, I got to my feet. I had to make him understand. ‘No, sir. I don't know who did that test, but it wasn't me. I wasn't at school yesterday.'

I heard both Kaylie and Dawn gasp. I looked across
at them. ‘I wasn't. Honest.'

Kaylie's eyes went wide. ‘You liar, Fay. We had a great day yesterday. A terrific laugh. Don't you remember?'

‘It wasn't me!'

Why wouldn't they believe me? But they didn't. I could see it in their faces. Those looks were plainly saying, ‘Here she goes again.'

They had to believe me. I was so frightened by now I was shivering. ‘It was that other one. Don't you see? I stayed at home. I was there all day.'

Mr Hardie turned away in annoyance. ‘This is nonsense!'

I stepped after him, pulled at his sleeve to make him face me. ‘Somebody was here, pretending to be me!'

His face looked like thunder now. ‘You're trying to tell me that the girl who walked in that door yesterday, and smiled at me, who sat at that desk and produced a neat, efficient piece of work, wasn't you?'

I was nodding wildly.

The teacher was sure he was being made a fool of. He exploded. ‘Well, let me tell you, I hope she pretends to be you more often, because she's smarter, brighter and far more rational than you are today.'

He took my breath away. He preferred the other one. The one who was stealing my life. I looked around the class. At my friends, at Monica, at Drew. Did they all feel like that?

Monica certainly did. ‘Well said, sir!' she shouted. He told her to keep quiet but she still looked smug. Kaylie and Dawn surely must have seen a difference? But already I could see the annoyance in Dawn's face. ‘I thought you were back to your old self yesterday,' she said.

That's when I hit the roof. ‘Back to my old self! This
is
my old self. That other one isn't me!'

I grabbed at her blazer. I didn't want to hurt her. I'd never hurt Dawn. I just wanted to make her believe me.

But after the incident with Monica, no one was taking any chances. Suddenly, two of the other girls were holding me back. ‘I wasn't at school yesterday. I stayed at home!' I yelled.

Mr Hardie drew in his breath. ‘Get her to Mrs Williams.'

I struggled wildly. Mrs Williams, my least favourite teacher. ‘She won't listen to me,' I shouted. ‘I'll prove I wasn't at school!' I shouted as I was bundled out of the classroom. But even as I said it I knew I couldn't. Mum and Dad had both been at work all day and when they'd
come in, hadn't I told them what a great day I'd had? Implying that great day had been at school. The only one who had seen me yesterday had been Mrs Brennan, as I had waited at the lift in my school uniform. And she had sent the lift back up for me. I had confirmed that today, to Mum.

No one could prove I hadn't come to school.

Not even Drew.

He hadn't been at school either. If only he had he would have used the code and he at least would have known the truth.

Mrs Williams was all concern. She really did feel, she told me, inclining her head to one side like a demented bird, that I needed professional help.

‘You think I'm crazy!' I yelled at her.

‘Not at all, Fay. You just need help to get over this trauma.'

She wanted to phone my mother at work, but I wouldn't let her. What could she say? I calmed down as I sipped tea and she suggested I might like to go home.

I almost did – but an awful thought struck me. What if the other one came in as I left and took my place again?

I couldn't bear it.

Because that was the scariest thing. For the first time, this other one had spoken, she had been with my friends, taken my place. And no one had noticed the difference.

And if I were to come face to face with her . . . would that be the end of me?

Mrs Williams left me in her office to rest. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. I rocked myself back and forth, but I didn't sleep. Once I heard the door open quietly and sensed someone watching me. I was too terrified to look, because what if it wasn't Mrs Williams?

What if it was the other one, looking in at the door, watching me and smiling? Waiting for her chance to take over . . . for good.

In the end I
had
to go home. I couldn't stop shaking and I could see that Mrs Williams was full of genuine concern about me. Maybe she wasn't such a bad old bird after all.

‘You promise you'll tell your mother about this,' she insisted.

I assured her I would, over and over again. I didn't want any of her phone calls to my mother asking awkward questions. Asking if anything had changed in the family to make me behave like this again.

Because that bothered me too. Something had changed, hadn't it? I'd seen my mum with
that man
and suddenly, the other one had come back.

Was that the reason?

No! I couldn't, wouldn't believe that. Yet, what was the alternative? A horror I just couldn't face.

A portent of my own death.

I was going to die.

She was so close now, this other one, almost in my shoes. Maybe that meant my death was close too.

Near lunchtime, Mrs Williams asked Kaylie and Dawn to take me home. I was glad of the chance to talk to them. Perhaps I could convince them of the truth.

Some hope.

‘Who are you trying to kid, Fay?' I could see Dawn was still annoyed with me. ‘We were with you the whole day. We met you at the top of the stairs. We had our lunch together in the canteen.'

Kaylie, concerned as she was, was equally adamant I was lying. ‘You had burger and chips. Remember?'

‘Of course I don't remember. It wasn't me.'

But how could I expect them to believe such an incredible notion?

Dawn was still looking for rational explanations. ‘Maybe that's it. You don't remember. You've got amnesia. Or a split personality.'

I stopped on the misty stairs and stamped my feet. ‘Don't you understand, I can remember everything about yesterday. I was at home all day. Right?'

Dawn shrugged her shoulders. ‘You've got nobody to prove that, have you?'

And she was right. There was nobody.

‘You're my best friends,' I said as we reached my flats. ‘I thought I could rely on you to believe me. Even Mr Hardie noticed I was different yesterday.'

Kaylie let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘Yes. We are your best friends. So why are you trying to make fools of us?'

Dawn agreed with her, as if they'd discussed it and wanted to have it out with me. ‘You can tell the truth now. It was a great joke. But it
was you yesterday.
Admit it.'

‘Believe what you like!' I snapped and I pushed the button for the lift. ‘Some friends you are!'

It was all the excuse they needed to turn angry and walk away from me.

‘I'm not coming back to school today, by the way!' I shouted after them. ‘So if you think it's me, it won't be!'

They didn't even answer me. I wondered if they would ever talk to me again.

It was only as I stepped into the lift, alone, that I realised just how frightened I really was.

Because,
she
was staring at me. In the mirror. My reflection. Or was it really the other one, ready to step
through the glass and take over my life? I didn't take my eyes off her as the lift rose creakily to the 13th floor. I watched, terrified, waiting for a movement that wasn't mine. A lift of the eyebrow, a wicked smile. But the face that stared back at me was as pale and terrified as my own.

The flat was eerily quiet too. This time I didn't savour the solitude or the silence. I switched on the television even though it was just some stupid chat show, and the radio, too, so I could hear music, people talking.

Normal, wonderful, everyday life.

Then I sat on the sofa and cried.

I cried because I didn't understand what was happening. I cried because I was afraid of how all this was going to end.

I fell into a fitful sleep, until the phone ringing woke me with a start. I let it ring for a moment or two. If it was Mum, how would I explain my presence at home? But then, why would Mum phone knowing I was at school? I grabbed the receiver just before it clicked into the answering service. ‘Hello?'

There was someone there. Even though I couldn't hear breathing, or backgound noise, I knew there was
someone on the other end of that line.

You always do, don't you?

Someone who wasn't answering.

I was sure suddenly that I knew who that someone was.

‘Speak to me!' I yelled. ‘Why are you doing this to me? Who are you?'

I was answered by silence.

‘Stop it!' I screamed. ‘Stop it, or else!'

I was crying now, and was about to slam down the phone in anger when, very softly, a voice answered me.

‘Or else . . . what?'

And the voice was mine.

Too scared to scream. I threw the phone from me and found I couldn't make a sound.

The voice was mine.

Calling me, at the other end of the line.

I backed away, my eyes never leaving the receiver as it dangled against the floor. Watching it, as if I almost expected her – Who? . . . Me? – to ooze from the very phone itself.

I couldn't stay in the flat alone. I needed company, normality, people. I ran, hauled open the front door and ran, not caring whether or not it banged shut behind me.

Where was I going? I couldn't think straight.

The voice was mine. That was all I could think.

I pressed for the lift. Watched it rising floor by floor. Would have stepped into it, but suddenly knew I
couldn't take the chance. The other one might be there, waiting for me, and I'd be outnumbered, because my reflection would be in there too.

If I had to come face to face with my . . . fetch, it would be on my terms.

School would almost be ready to come out. Drew. He would be coming home by the stairs. If I could see Drew and talk to him, I'd feel better. He'd know what to do.

I clattered down the stairs, flight after flight, taking the steps two at a time. My mind in a breathless turmoil.

The other one had been at school yesterday, instead of me, and now this. My voice on the phone, threatening me.

Moving ever closer.

A portent.

No!

When I reached the bottom and ran into the street the fog was closing in, growing thicker with the dusk. People moved in and out of it, emerging and then being swallowed up and disappearing. I looked all around, sure I would see
her,
stepping out, beckoning to me.

‘Whoa! Hold on there!'

I gasped as I almost collided with my mother. She grabbed me by the shoulders. ‘Where are you going now?'

I so wanted to tell her, hesitated, trying to find the right words. How do you explain something as strange as this?

‘You're so pale, Fay.' She stroked my face. ‘No wonder they sent you home from school.'

So, Mrs Williams
had
phoned her, after saying she wouldn't! Trust a teacher.

‘They told you,' I muttered, the first words I'd managed since the phone call.

Mum smiled. ‘No, silly,
you
told me. Remember?'

Icy sweat trickled down my spine. My heart thumped. ‘
I
told you?'

Mum just carried on. ‘It was so nice being together this afternoon, Fay. Just you and me. I'm so glad you came down to the office to meet me. It gave us a chance to talk. Get a lot of things sorted out.'

I felt as if the wind had been punched out of me.
She
had known I would be alone, and she'd taken my place again. But this was the worst. Worse than the phone call, and the voice – my voice.

The
other one
had been with my mum. And Mum hadn't known the difference.

I wanted to tell her, shout at her, ‘That wasn't
me
!' But my voice wouldn't come.

My own mother hadn't known the difference.

‘What's wrong, Fay?' Her eyes were full of concern. ‘Come on, we'll go home and I'll make us a nice cup of tea. Forget about talking to Drew. I knew you would never find him on the stairs anyway.' She glanced across at the stairs, barely discernible in the thick fog. ‘I told you, you wouldn't find anyone in this fog.'