been living with the consequences ever since.
Max spoke up, ‘Harry tried hard, though, didn’t he? I was always envious of you—you seemed to have a connection with them and their kids. All I had was a fancy education from Fred’s Midas touch.’
‘Lucky you.’ Mitch sat back in his chair. ‘You did well out of his cash.’
‘Lucky?’ Max remembered the frequent emotional blackmail and taunts. We never asked for you. We didn’t want kids. How Max would never ever be good enough in Fred’s eyes. Compared to Mitchell’s poor but loving upbringing it certainly had never felt like he’d won the jackpot. Rich, yes. But desperately alone.
‘No, Mitch, there’s a lot more to life than money. I didn’t feel lucky at all. All our lives you’ve compared what you had to what I had. You have no idea what it was like.’
‘To struggle? To have to work hard? To try to be as good as your brother? Get real, Max. You had a charmed life.’
Although this was getting out of control, it was getting real too. Finally opening up about what they’d both endured. Was it his imagination or did his back still sting from his uncle’s belt wound twenty-odd years ago? Hiding the reality from everyone was preferable to reliving it. ‘It wasn’t easy for me. Stuff happened.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘You don’t want to know.’ But Max didn’t want to sound like a victim either. ‘Forget it. Let’s move on.’
Because that’s what happened in their lives. People moved on, leaving emptiness, chaos and hurt. Which was why Max never invested in his emotions. He never again wanted to feel the way he had when he’d lost his parents and then his brother. His enduring memory was of being dragged away, his brother’s screams stinging in his ears.
From somewhere in the small townhouse Jamie cried out, the noise echoing off the walls.
Following his brother out to the hall, Max decided it was time to leave. He’d tried. They’d both tried. Who knew if it was enough?
Just before he left, Max paused, his hand on the door handle. ‘Just one thing, Mitch. Do you remember making a den out of sheets and the clothes airer?’
Mitchell shook his head and frowned. ‘No. Why?’
‘In the lounge. In our old house?’
‘No.’
‘Really? A den that we slept in one night. And we had a secret language that used to drive Mum mad, you must remember that?’
‘Nah.’ Mitch’s shoulders lifted then dropped as he turned to mount the stairs. ‘It was too long ago. I’ve got a new life now, I’m trying to make a go of it. Like you, I’m trying to forget all that stuff.’
Max let himself out, a heavy ache thickening across his chest. Maybe it was pointless to even try to reach out to his twin, to try to create a family. Not when they didn’t even have the same memories.
When the phone rang Gabby was sitting on the floor of her closet, sorting through her memory boxes again. Even though he wasn’t in the room she instinctively closed the closet door to hide them from view. ‘Max?’
‘Hey.’ Although it was wonderful to hear his voice, it filled her with concern. He sounded flat. Tired. In the restaurant he’d been so closed down she hadn’t known how to handle it. All she could do was wait until he was ready to talk.
‘Thought I’d ring and see how you are.’ ‘I’m okay,’ she lied, infusing brightness into her voice to counteract his. That damned SkyJump had snagged something in her stomach as well as her shoulder. An ache she couldn’t shake with regular painkillers, which only zapped her strength and humour. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be an extreme adventurist just yet, or it needed a level of fitness more than that of a flea. ‘How did it go with Maitland Two?’
‘In his eyes he’s Maitland One—so don’t be surprised if that nickname isn’t a hit.’ His laugh was hollow and it made her heart hitch. She imagined him in that huge empty apartment with nothing for company but the plants and his worsening mood. ‘To be honest, it went exactly as I expected.’
Not good, then. ‘You need a distraction. Why don’t you step outside and busy yourself with watering the babies?’
‘Thanks. But I don’t think that will help.’ His voice thawed a little.
‘So, what would?’
‘You.’ So inevitable. So obvious. So honest. His breathing stilled as he waited for her answer.
She glanced at the clock, torn between looking after herself and giving him