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I’M SITTING IN my Audi R8, parked on the driveway of my parents’ home in Richmond, West London. I’ve beensitting here for six minutes, according to my dashboard clock, reminding myself that I’m here to see my brother and sister. Trying to convince myself that sitting around a table for Sunday lunch with Penelope and Frederick Hamilton, as well as Mother’s other ‘friends’ Martin and Sara Wiltmore, won’t be hours of torture. It’s not working, but it doesn’t matter because the female version of me is stepping out of the old stone house, carrying Isabella, my cute-as-hell two-year-old niece.
“Who is it, baby?” my sister asks my niece as I step out of the car.
“Ucca Cark.”
“Hey pretty girl,” I say, bending to my hunkers, arms outstretched.
Kathryn sets Izzie down on the ground and she runs, that waddling toddler kind of run, into my arms. I pick her up and turn us in a fast circle, planting my lips on her soft cheek and inhaling the sweet smell of talc and flowers.
“I meant you,” I tell Kathryn as she slips under my free arm.
“Of course you did, charmer.”
I squeeze her tightly to me and bounce Izzie into a more comfortable spot on my hip. “How are you?”
“Forget that. How are you? And don’t spin me a lie, Clark. Remember, when you hurt, I hurt.”
“Don’t expect your psychobabble about our twin connection to work on me, Kathryn. I’m thirty-two, not two.”
“It worked when you were thirty-one,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Talk to me, Clark. I know you, and I don’t believe all that rubbish about you wanting to play the field again. You changed; I saw it. So what really happened?”
Izzie grabs my lips with her chubby fingers, and I pretend to bite them, which makes her giggle and do the same thing again. “I’ll pinch your nose,” I tell her.
“No, no, no, no.”
I nip the end of her nose between my knuckles then push my thumb between them to show her the nose I stole.
“No, no, no.”
“Do you want it back?” She nods vigorously. “Will you be nice to me? Alright then.” I put the tip of her nose back where it belongs.
“Tell me,” Kathryn presses when we’re standing on the porch.
I sigh. “Have you ever had one of those moments in your life where suddenly everything becomes clear? That’s what happened. I realised that I wasn’t marrying Connie because I was in love with her. I love her, and I respect her, and I want us to be friends again someday, but…”
“You’re just not in love with her.”
God, things are so easy with Kathryn. “Right.”
“What happened to make you have your epiphany?” She folds her arms across her chest, which could be a sign that she’s cold. Or, more likely, that she doesn’t intend to go anywhere until I answer her question.
“I hope you’re not asking if I went with someone else.”
“Clark, that might be what other people think, but not me. Never me.”
I step towards my twin and kiss her brow. “Thank you.”
“But I’ve got to tell you, Penelope is in there telling the others that you ended things because you have feelings for someone else. She said you told Constance as much.”
I lift Izzie off my hip and into the air, kissing her cheek when I pull her back down to my chest.
“I said it. I meant it. But I’m not with anyone else.”
“Dayna.”
My heart leaps at the sound of her name. “It took me four years and an engagement to work it out.” I hand Izzie back to Kathryn. “She won’t have anything to do with me, and I don’t blame her. But I can’t get her out of my head. I should never have left her four years ago, and I’m damn sure I should never have listened to him.”
Kathryn rubs fine blonde strands of hair back behind Izzie’s ear. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. I’m proud of you.”
