Black Valley by Charlotte Williams

social situations. Normally she would have enjoyed the buzz around her; but tonight, the sheer volume of chatter simply hurt her ears, and set her
teeth on edge.
    She looked around, hoping to find a friendly face. There was a knot of people standing over by the statue of the little drummer boy that graced the hallway. She peered at them, and as she looked
closer, saw that Elinor was among them. She looked almost unrecognizable: elegantly turned out, and supremely confident in her bearing. She’d had her hair cut in a geometric bob, and was
dressed in a quiet grey suit like a man’s, with a cream silk shirt underneath, buttoned up to the neck. With her luminous blonde locks, high cheekbones and slanting blue eyes, her sober,
serious look was more striking than the most bejewelled woman there.
    Next to her was a good-looking, broad-shouldered man with shiny dark hair, gelled into a playful, faintly ridiculous quiff at the front. He was suited and booted, but casually so, with a pink
open-necked shirt and no tie. He looked familiar, though Jess couldn’t place him. She gazed at him, wondering where she’d seen him before. Then, with a shock, she realized who he was:
the man who’d been walking up the path to Elinor’s house the day she’d visited the cathedral. The man she’d seen at the window, drawing the curtains at dusk.
    There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned round.
    Standing in front of her was another Elinor. The Elinor she knew. Diffident, otherworldly. Dressed in her ancient, faded clothes, her hair slightly dishevelled, a puzzled look on her face.
    ‘Elinor. Hello. Oh.’
    Elinor gave her a shy smile.
    ‘Sorry, I’m a bit confused here.’ Jess gestured at the woman in the circle of people by the statue. ‘Who’s that?’
    ‘Isobel, of course. My sister.’
    ‘You look so incredibly alike. D’you know, for a moment, I thought—’
    ‘Well, of course we do.’ There was a note of irritation in Elinor’s voice. ‘We’re twins. I told you that, didn’t I?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘I’m sure I did.’
    Jess decided to let the matter pass. It was highly significant, of course, in terms of the therapy, that Elinor hadn’t mentioned the existence of her twin, but this wasn’t the place
to discuss the matter.
    ‘I’ll introduce you later. Isobel would like to meet you. And Blake.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Remember, I told you about him?’
    She gave Jess a meaningful look.
    ‘Oh, right.’ Jess was flustered. She glanced over at Blake, who was talking and smiling animatedly. He was definitely the man she’d seen visiting Elinor the day she’d
stopped off at the cathedral. She’d watched him draw the curtains at the window upstairs, and had wondered if the two of them were having an affair.
    ‘I didn’t know you were an art buff.’ Elinor was curious.
    ‘I’m not. A friend invited me.’
    ‘Well, I’m glad you’re here.’ Elinor adopted a conspiratorial tone. ‘I hate these kind of events. I find them such an ordeal.’ She paused. ‘I had to be
here, of course, to support Isobel and Blake. Hefin Morris is their new find.’ She hesitated. ‘D’you know his work?’
    Jess shook her head.
    ‘I think you’d like it.’ She hesitated. ‘We can go upstairs now, if you like, and have a look at the paintings. I can show you round, before everyone goes up.’
    ‘I’d love to, but I’m meeting a friend.’ Jess extricated herself as tactfully as she could. ‘I think I’d better go and find her.’
    Elinor nodded, but she looked disappointed.
    ‘See you later, then.’
    ‘OK. Later.’
    Jess went off to look for Mari. She felt uncomfortable about bumping into Elinor. It really didn’t do for her to be hobnobbing with a client outside the sessions. And it was entirely her
fault that this had happened. She should have realized that Elinor and her family, as the owners of the Powell Gallery, would attend the opening of a major new exhibition at the museum. And that
the