Free Double by Jenny Valentine

it to Mum and Frank.”
    “What did they do with it all?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “They should have packed it and brought it with them,” I said. “It was my junk to throw out, not theirs.”
    I listened to the outrage in my voice. I hated myself, I really did.
    “We’d already been through it once,” she said. “When we were looking for you, we had to go through your stuff to try to find out why you disappeared.”
    I wondered if she was about to tell me, if I was about to learn something.
    “And did you find it?” I said.
    “No.”
    We looked at each other.
    “Are you going to tell me?” she said, and then she answered for me. “No.”
    “Sorry, Edie,” I said.
    “Don’t be,” she said, and then, “No you’re not.”
    We turned back when the wind got so cold that Edie couldn’t feel her hands anymore, even with gloves. The house was quiet. Helen had gone back to bed.
    “Cigarettes and sleeping pills for breakfast,” Edie said. “Home sweet home.”
    “I wish she’d stop now,” I said.
    “Are you kidding? You think your coming back’s going to change the habit of a lifetime? I thought you were joking yesterday,” she said. “Have you really forgotten?”
    I listened to the warming hum of the stove, the creak of Sergeant’s basket as he circled to change position, too old to have come on a walk with us, too old and tired.
    Neither of us knew what to do next.
    “Let’s get in the car,” Edie said. “Let’s go into town right now, get it over with.”
    “The freak show?” I said.
    “Let’s do it.”
    I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to be seen and prodded and questioned. There were so many reasons to say no.
    I tried to. I said we should leave it for a while. I said, “Maybe Helen wants to come with us.” I said, “Do you think we should wait for Frank?”
    “Why does everything have to be decided by him?” Edie said suddenly. “Can we move without Frank’s permission? Can we breathe ?”
    “Easy,” I said. “Calm down.”
    “What?” she said. “Ever since you left it’s like he’s become the Master of the Universe or something, and we little women just don’t know how to cope.”
    “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
    “Talking about Frank always hits the nerve,” she said. “You know what he’s like.”
    I said, “I guess so,” because I couldn’t think of anything else.
    “Let’s just go,” Edie said. “Let’s decide to do something without anyone else giving us the benefit of their opinion.”
    What choice did I have? I couldn’t say no.
    “Let’s go into town and scare people,” she said.
    “What with?”
    “With you ,” she said, getting into the car, smiling at me before shutting her door. “You’re the walking dead.”
    So we did. Against my better judgment, against all the warning noises in my head, we got into the car and Edie drove the ten minutes into town. We parked in the market square. It was almost deserted. There were two old women talking on the corner, a dog wandering around, somebody at the cash machine.
    I was relieved, but I pretended not to be. “Not much of an audience,” I said.
    It didn’t take long. The lady in the newsstand called me Frank, and Edie said, “It’s not Frank. He’s dressed as Frank, but he isn’t him.”
    The lady looked again. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “Cassiel Roadnight. Is that you?”
    Edie took my hand and pulled me toward the door. “He’s back,” she said, “and you are the first to know.”
    “How are you?” the lady said.
    “I’m fine, thanks,” I said, halfway out already.
    “That should do it,” Edie said. “Everybody goes in there. Where else? Want a coffee?”
    I shrugged. “Not really.”
    “Well, it’s not about the coffee,” she said, leading the way. “It’s about sitting in the window and getting seen. Let’s count the double takes on people’s faces.”
    We did. There were thirty-seven. Some of them came in and