First Born(54)

‘One of each.’

‘You get on well?’

‘On and off,’ he says. ‘Much better now than a few years ago. Katie met both of them. They really liked her. Mom and Dad liked her, too.’

‘Everyone liked KT,’ I say.

He pulls off his V-neck sweater and now he’s sitting here wearing a white T-shirt. I start to feel warm. Women at the other tables glance at him. Those at the back of the room are looking at his back, and the V-shape of his torso. Women to my left and right are looking at his chest through his cotton T-shirt, at the profile of it. Men are looking too. They are looking at their wives and girlfriends, and then they are looking at Scott Sbarra.

Scott wipes sweat from his brow. ‘Chilli, eh?’

‘I like it.’

‘How long are you staying in the city for, Molly?’

‘About a week. I want to help the police some more before I leave for London.’

I need to right wrongs.

Restore balance.

‘I might be flying to London next year. There’s a boat race on the Thames we might qualify for, don’t know yet.’

‘The boat race?’

‘It’s in a city called Henley-on-Thames. You know it?’

‘Not really,’ I say. ‘I’ve heard of it. Not sure it’s a city.’

‘People wear hats and stuff, old-fashioned preppy boat race, some real nineteenth-century shit. But the trip’s fully funded if we qualify, so it would be kinda cool.’

‘Maybe I could see you in London,’ I say. ‘Just for coffee or something.’

‘Could be cool,’ he says. ‘Excuse me.’

He stands up and walks off to the gents’. The way he walks, the stride, the posture, the movement of white cotton over his shoulders, it makes me want to chase him down. The room watches him walk and he is unaware. At least half the room. Three-quarters.

But it’s wrong. All of it. Who is worse here, me or him? Me for being here, with KT’s man, or him for being here, with his dead girlfriend’s identical twin? It’s disgraceful whichever way you look at it. Evil, almost. Twisted. He should be grieving more than he is. KT was worth more pain than I can see in his face. But I’m the one to say stop. I’m the one who must do the right thing.

He comes back and finishes his pho.

‘You’re probably not in the mood for anything,’ he says. ‘But it’s Halloween in a couple of days. You ever experience a true American Halloween, Molly?’

‘Not really my thing,’ I say.

‘That’s what Vi says. She hates Halloween with a passion.’

Vi again.

‘Violet hates Halloween? Why?’ I finish a spring roll.

‘She hates anything commercialised. Anything wrapped up in shopping and materialism and plastic garbage. Vi’s practically a communist. Always stays home on the 31st.’

‘I’ll probably do the same, to be honest. Stay in the hostel and work on KT’s case.’

‘Any leads yet you know of?’

‘A few,’ I say. ‘Nothing concrete. Nothing to justify an arrest.’

‘I just wish they’d lock me in the cell with the guy. Just for five minutes.’

‘You never know, you might get your chance.’

He grits his teeth and says, ‘Cops talked to her neighbour, you think? Kid living down in the basement?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘They should.’

I don’t say anything.

‘Something wrong with that kid. Like he has a dark side.’

‘I’m looking into him.’

‘Be careful around that guy, Molly. You need to talk to him, you let me know and I’ll go in with you. We can talk to him together.’

I smile at him and he blushes again. Six-four with a square jaw and yet he blushes. Red around each cheek dimple.

He orders another beer and the restaurant lights dim.

‘Katie told me you guys were inseparable as kids. Told me about your secret language and the way you hardly spoke to your parents for a few years, just each other.’

I take a sip of water. ‘We used to make fun of them behind their backs. It was cruel, really.’ I start to laugh. ‘One time we swapped salt for sugar and Dad spat out his tea. We planned the whole thing. Well, I planned it and KT actually did it. We were a good team.’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ he says, leaning back, his shirt stretching over his midriff. ‘And I know I said it before. But you’re so different, the two of you. You look almost the same, obviously, but your faces, your expressions. It’s like I’m here with Katie but I’m not, you know?’

‘We’ve always been pretty different,’ I say. ‘Same, but different.’

‘I liked her a lot. She was a special person.’

‘She liked you, too, Scott.’

He doesn’t place his hand on my hand but he moves it closer. On top of the table, in full view of the room, his little finger is almost touching my little finger. I can feel it. The heat and the energy. I can feel the potential of him through my body. Like I’m getting drowsy from a hot bath, every muscle in my body easing. I want to push my hand so our fingers touch. I want to feel his skin against my skin. But I pull back.