We had an orange, L-shaped sofa in one corner of the roomand Lily was slumped at one end of it, blanket over her, sipping a mug ofcoffee. I had never known anyone drink as much coffee as Lily. She seemed tolive on the stuff. In three plus years I had rarely seen her eat. I had alsonever heard her address anyone by their real name. Phoebe and I were bothaddressed as “pet” as was the postman and pretty much anyone else we ever cameinto contact with.
At the other end of the sofa, leaning over the coffee table,wolfing down a toasted bacon sandwich, was Phoebe. It wasn’t difficult to seehow she maintained her full figure.
“Is there any of that left?” I asked, knowing what theanswer would be before the words were even out of my mouth.
“Sorry,” said Phoebe, in her strong, West Country dialect.“There were only five rashers left and I always have at least three so Ithought I may as well finish it off. No point leaving two, is there?”
“I’d have been happy with two,” I said. “Most people would.”
“I can go to the shops and get you some more if you like?”she suggested, looking a little crestfallen. To her credit, Phoebe was goodlike that. She might eat all the food in the flat, including your own, but shealways replaced it.
“No, you’re OK,” I said. “I’ll just have some toast.”
“Ah…” began Phoebe. “I kind of…”
“…finished the bread, too?” I suggested.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, Amy. Look. I’m planning on goingout and doing a big shop today. It’s New Year tomorrow so most of the shopswill be closed and we want to make sure we’ve got plenty in for your birthday.”
“That’s right,” piped up Lily, turning to face me properlyfor the first time. “We’re feeling really bad about forgetting last year and wereally want to make this one special for you.”
After I had come into the room, which had initially seemed tobe a picture of normality, my earlier confusion had temporarily abated. Now inthe space of a few seconds, I had been hit with a double whammy that set offalarm bells in my head that screamed out Something’s wrong here.
The first cue to unsettle me was what they had just said,but that was overshadowed by Lily’s appearance. When I first came into the roomI had only briefly clocked her, sitting in the semi-darkness, but now she wasfacing me I noticed her hair. Her hair was all wrong.
Leaving that aside for a moment, what they had both justsaid about my birthday had completely thrown me.
“Whoa, hold on a minute,” I replied. “What are you talkingabout? My birthday was yesterday.”
“Ha ha – that’s a good one, Amy,” said Phoebe. “Is this yourway of trying to get out of it? You said your birthday was always rubbish, sowe’ve decided that this year we are going to change that.”
“But my birthday is 1st January,” I protested. “It’s 2ndJanuary today.”
“Umm, I don’t think it is,” replied Phoebe. “Didn’t you hearwhat I said before? I told you I was going shopping for New Year food and drinktoday. Honestly, Amy, you never seem to listen to a word I say.”
“Look, what’s going on here?” I asked, perplexed. “Is thissome sort of wind-up?”
If my head had been whirling gently before like thathourglass on a laptop, it had now accelerated to the proportions of an F5tornado. Could this really be some sort of elaborate wind-up, or was I going tohave to face the possibility that something seriously weird had happened to me?
Would they really have gone to the lengths of swapping myphone, dug my old T-shirt out of the bin, and then pretended the date wasdifferent? And what would be the point anyway? We weren’t averse to playingpranks on each other. These ranged from the small ones, such as substitutingLily’s beloved coffee with a decaffeinated blend to see if she noticed (shedid), to the more elaborate ones.
For example, there was the stunt Lily and I pulled on Phoebeon Bonfire Night a couple of years ago. We spent all day creating our very ownstuffed guy, complete with strap-on dildo and put it on Phoebe’s bed, ready forwhen she got home from work.
She called our bluff on that occasion and when we dared herto actually ride it, she went and did it. Not with us in the room, obviously –that would have been seriously weird, but she still did it. That was Phoebe allover – always up for anything.
“OK, guys, you got me,” I said. “What’s this supposed to be– some sort of weird time travel thing?”
Then I remembered what it was that had struck me aboutLily’s appearance a few moments before.
“You didn’t have to go to that extent of putting thedreadlocks back in your hair, though, Lily. That must have taken hours.”
She had worn dreads the past year or two but had decided todispense with them last summer.
“What are you on about, pet?” said Lily. “I’ve had these fora couple of years. Though I am thinking of getting rid of them – I fancy a newlook. What do you think?”
Neither of them looked like they were playing a prank, especiallyPhoebe who could never keep a straight face for long when mischief was afoot.
My eyes were drawn to the TV in the corner, where the filmhad finished and the BBC News had come on. A reporter was standing outside BigBen talking about preparations for the New Year fireworks.
For the first time I began to suspect this wasn’t a wind-up.It couldn’t be. Surely they wouldn’t have gone to the effort of recording thatand then playing it back just to confuse me. It went way beyond anything we haddone before. It seemed that I had to contemplate the possibility that unlesssomething had seriously gone wrong with my mind somehow I really had travelledback two days in time.
But that didn’t explain Lily’s hair – it was months sinceshe had disposed of the dreads.
Then I caught sight of the calendar on the wall, and thereit was, staring at
