Another Me (7 page)

It didn't look a bit like me staring back from the mirror.

Stella stood beside Mum, her arms folded, surveying her handiwork with satisfaction.

‘Would you believe the difference it makes!' she said. ‘You look so grown up, Fay.'

I could hardly believe it myself. The clumps and tufts had been cut away and my hair had been layered into the back of my head, and the top was spikey and tousled.

Mum was delighted too. ‘It looks so modern. It makes you look . . .' She searched around for the right word. ‘Elfin.'

I wasn't quite sure what that meant, but I knew it was a compliment. When Stella's daughter arrived home with her boyfriend she raved about my hair too.

As we sat around Stella's kitchen table drinking tea and chatting, I kept sneaking quick glances at myself in
the mirror, as delighted as everyone else.

How I loved that night. Mum and Stella and her daughter and me. Laughing and talking and having fun.

‘A real girls' night!' Stella said, ignoring her daughter's poor boyfriend in the other room.

A real girls' night. If Mum left, I would lose nights like this, and I couldn't bear that.

But I wouldn't lose them. Mum would never leave.

When we went home Dad was even more impressed with my new hairstyle. ‘That is lovely!' He looked at Mum. ‘Was this your idea?'

He wanted it to be her idea, pleased to see us together like this.

‘Of course it was her idea,' I said at once. Then I went over every detail of our night at Stella's.

This was how I always wanted it to be. Me and Mum and Dad, laughing together, talking together. I'd do anything to keep it that way.

It was only as I lay in bed and listened to their murmured, annoyed whispers from the living room that the old fears rose up in me again.

They were two lovely people. Why couldn't they just be happy?
I have never looked forward to going to school so much in my life. Dying for everyone to see and comment on my hair.

* * *

Dawn and Kaylie, waiting for me at the top of the stairs, jumped and screamed when I came into view. ‘That is
so
cool!' Dawn shouted.

‘I can't believe a haircut could change you like that. You look like a new person.'

It was everything I needed to hear. No one would ever mistake the other one for me now. And it wasn't just the haircut that was different. I felt it was a whole new me at school that day.

A change is as good as a holiday. I hadn't realised just how true that saying was. I was more confident, especially with everyone noticing me, and admiring my new style. It made me feel as if this was a whole new beginning for me.

Even Drew Fraser did a double take when he saw me. ‘I hardly recognised you there.' Then he peered closer and grinned. ‘It is the real you, isn't it? Not that other one?'

I had almost smiled at him, right up until he said that. Now I glared at him and flounced off.

Monica, I noticed, was the only one in class who
didn't remark on my hair.

Kaylie giggled as we watched her trying her best to ignore me. ‘Jealousy's a terrible thing!' she whispered. And we all giggled. Was Monica really jealous of me?

But new hairstyle or not, when it came to remembering my lines for
Macbeth
at rehearsal that night, they still eluded me.

And Monica made sure I knew it.

That night we were rehearsing the scene when Macbeth first sees Banquo's ghost. Daft Donald was trying to make us believe it was every bit as scary as a
Scream
movie. I don't think. No one believed him.

Over and over in my mind I repeated my lines. ‘This is the very painting of your fear; this is the air-drawn dagger . . .'

It never would come out right . . . ‘the painting of your fear.' As soon as I said those words, all I could see was a portrait of myself, of my fear. Not any other ghost. My mind kept going blank.

It didn't help that Monica was sitting in the first row, right in front of me, mouthing the lines perfectly. Mocking me. I tried not to look at her.

But even then, that wonderful day didn't go wrong. When I finally got the words right, Donald came right
up to me and slapped me on the back. ‘You sent a shiver down my spine when you said that, Fay, gazing into the distance, almost as if you could see a ghost, too.' He rubbed his hands together with excitement. ‘I knew I'd made the right choice with you.'

Poor old Monica almost fell off her seat with annoyance.

It had been a wonderful day, one of the best, and I had the whole weekend to look forward to. Shopping in the mall on Saturday with the girls. Cinema at the Multiplex at night, and best of all, and most surprising to me, was the memory of Drew Fraser's eyes, green like emeralds, following me as I walked out of rehearsal and Kaylie and Dawn's whispered words. ‘I definitely think he fancies you.'

It was a wonderful weekend. The best weekend I'd had for ages. Even the winter sun shone bright and crisp for me.

Until Monday, which was dark and wet and miserable. Dreech, we call it here. Isn't that a good word? Sums it up perfectly. Dreech.

A drizzly rain filled the air like a mist, as I walked up the stairs to school. Kaylie and Dawn wouldn't be waiting for me at the top today. Dawn had phoned to say her mum would be running them both to school.

I held my umbrella down in front of me and hardly heard the footsteps coming behind me. Not until they stopped right beside me.

I peeked to see who the trainers belonged to and found myself looking into the green eyes of Drew Fraser. Normally, he would rush past me. Pulling at my
umbrella, trying to trip me up. Acting like a dork. This morning, he had stopped and when I looked at him, he actually smiled.

‘I was hoping I'd see you,' he said.

Suddenly, I was blushing. Stupid, because I'd known Drew Fraser all my life, and had never liked him. He'd never seemed to like me either. Yet, now, here we were on the stairs alone and he'd been hoping he'd see me.

Cool.

‘How are you enjoying
Macbeth
?' he asked. Drew, who always seemed so sure of himself, now acted as if he didn't quite know what to say. Was that because of me? The thought made my heart race.

He didn't wait for my answer, but rushed on. ‘It's a rubbish play, isn't it? I mean, it should be a good story. Murder, ghosts, witches, fighting. But the words!' He made a face as if he was going to be sick, and I laughed. ‘That Shakespeare guy didn't have a clue, eh?'

He smiled at me. He really did have nice teeth. I had never noticed that before. Or how thick his lashes were. Like brushes. Then, he said something that really took me by surprise. ‘Tell me about this double you've got.'

My smile disappeared. Was this what it had all been leading up to? ‘Are you trying to take the mickey?'

Before I'd even finished he interrupted me. ‘I'm serious, Fay. I think it's really interesting. You know anything like that always fascinated me. Anything weird and wonderful.'

I almost walked away from him then. ‘Weird and wonderful! Are you referring to me?'

He slapped his hand across his mouth and laughed. ‘I didn't mean that, honest.'

The way he said it made me laugh too.

‘You know I've always loved things like this,' he went on, his voice full of excitement, like a little boy. ‘But it's always been in books, or in movies. But this is real life, and it's happening to somebody I know.'

I didn't answer him and he went on hurriedly. ‘I see you running down the stairs in front of me, sometimes you don't even look at me, as if you haven't seen me. As if I'm not there . . . and now I wonder, was that really you I saw?'

Was he being serious? He seemed to be. If so, he would be the first person who believed me. If he was, maybe I could tell him everything.

Yet, here, even on a dreech Monday morning, it all seemed to be a thing of the past. The figure in the lift, the hand on the stairwell, the lights going out
in the corridor. Coincidence, accident, but nothing mysterious.

‘I'm probably making too much of it,' I said, mainly because all at once I didn't want Drew to think I was potty. ‘Mistaken identity. Happens all the time.'

He nodded. ‘Probably.' He hesitated, wanting to say more. ‘But I've been kinda looking into it, you know, on the Internet. I've found out things, strange things.' He seemed so serious then. He reached out and touched my arm. ‘Things I think you should know.'

‘Like what?'

He didn't get a chance to answer. There was a sudden commotion at the top of the stairs. His mates, yelling out to him. He glanced up at them and waved. Then he looked back to me and shrugged. ‘Got to go,' he began backing up the stairs. ‘Maybe . . .' I watched his face go red. ‘Maybe I can walk down the road with you after school. Tell you about it.'

My face went as red as his. Drew Fraser was asking to walk me home. I don't even think I answered. Just swallowed and nodded. Then he was off and running up the stairs two at a time.

Wasn't it strange that only a few days ago he annoyed me so much. I couldn't stand him. Yet, in those few days
it would seem my opinion of him had changed entirely. Drew Fraser asking to walk me home? And I was looking forward to it. Here was another mystery!

I was desperate to tell the girls. Forget all about the ‘strange things' he wanted to talk about. Who cared about that now? Wait till Kaylie and Dawn heard this! And wouldn't moaning Monica be
so
jealous!

I almost ran up the rest of the stairs, and because it was so wet decided to sneak into school by the side door rather than walk the length of the playground to the main entrance. As soon as I was inside I shook out my umbrella and made my way as fast as I could to the girls' locker room. I hoped Kaylie and Dawn had already arrived.

Of all mornings, Daft Donald chose this one to waylay me.

‘Just the girl I want to speak to,' he grinned, and beckoned me into his classroom. ‘I won't keep you a minute.'

I had no choice but to step inside.

‘I'm really soaking wet, sir,' I said.

‘I know. I just wanted to tell you that I've asked your English teacher if he can spare you for 15 minutes during his lesson. We're going to help you get those lines
right.' He grinned as if I'd be delighted.

I groaned silently. If I hadn't wanted to get the better of Monica I would have told him where to stuff his lines.

Donald nodded. ‘The same expression Drew Fraser had when I told him.'

‘Drew?' I asked innocently.

He smiled. ‘Yes. Drew. No point Lady Macbeth learning her lines alone. Both of you are coming out of English.'

My face went bright red once again and I tried not to look too pleased. Donald only laughed. ‘Mmm. Drew Fraser's face went red when I told him, too.'

This morning, I decided, was getting better by the minute.

Donald patted my shoulder. ‘It's good to see you back to your old self, Fay. That haircut's done wonders for you.' I was about to agree with him when he added, ‘Why I hardly recognised you when you came across the playground earlier. Not until you looked up and waved.'

A dark shadow fell across my life in that second. I shook my head. ‘It wasn't me, sir. I didn't come across the playground.'

He dismissed that. ‘Of course it was you. You looked up at me and waved, and I waved back.'

I drew my hands through my hair, beginning to feel breathless. Please. I didn't want all this to start again. ‘That wasn't me, sir. That wasn't me!' He must have heard the panic in my voice. He took a step back and looked at me for a moment. Then he said, very softly, ‘I was probably mistaken.'

But he didn't mean a word of it. He was trying to calm me down. Keep the crazy girl happy.

I stumbled out of his classroom. I'd done everything to change things, hadn't I? And still she was following me.

What was happening, and how was I going to stop it now?

As I moved towards the locker room, I could hear Monica's voice.

Well, not exactly Monica's voice. Monica's voice trying to sound like mine.

‘Look at me, I'm Fay. Please notice me. I'll do anything to get attention.'

I stepped into the doorway so quietly no one saw me at first.

And what
I
saw explained everything.

There was Monica, talking like me, pretending to be me. Monica, with her hair now cut exactly like mine. And suddenly everything fell into place.

‘I'll get you,' she had said that day. And she had.

It had been Monica all the time.

It was all so clear to me now. Monica had sworn she'd get her revenge because I'd got the part she'd wanted. And, wasn't it then that everything had started to happen? Where had she been on the night of that first rehearsal when those footsteps had followed me down the dark corridor?

In the girls' toilets.

I could see her now, coming out of there, looking smug. Smug because I had been so afraid. She'd been in there for ages, Dawn had told me. Or had she? Had she, instead, left the auditorium and followed me, switching off the lights, one by one? Knowing she was frightening me. Then, had she darted back into the toilets before anyone noticed? Of course she had. And she could have been the girl in the flats too. She didn't live very far away from me. How easy to fool Mrs Brennan. She was
blind as a bat anyway. She never saw anything beyond my shiny hair. Well, Monica had shiny hair too. Just like mine.

Now, even more like mine.

All this passed through my mind in the blink of an eye. Before anyone had even looked up and saw me standing there.

Monica saw me first. Her face went white. She at least had the decency to look guilty. I could see she was ready with a smart remark.