Eileen and Mylene are the sixty-one year old twins who haven’t spoken to each other for forty years, even though they live and work less than two hundred yards apart from each other. Nobody knows the reason for their feud, but whatever it is, they’ve managed to completely ignore each other all this time.
 
 I rush over to Mylene, who takes two glasses of champagne from the server. She’s dressed as Queen Victoria, I think, complete with black dress, a blue sash, and a veil over her face to show she’s mourning the death of her husband, Prince Albert.
 
 From the corner of my eye I see Autumn ushering Eileen away, keeping her hand on her arm so Eileen doesn’t see her twin sister is here, too.
 
 My mouth drops open when I see she’s also dressed as Queen Victoria. How the hell are we going to be able to tell them apart?
 
 In fact, how do we even know who is whonow? The twins get completely tetchy if you call them by the wrong name. And I don’t want to be responsible for ruining this party.
 
 “Hi,” I say breathlessly when I reach her. “Remember me? I’m Francie, Autumn’s friend.”
 
 “I know who you are,” she says haughtily, her accent sounding suspiciously British. As though she’s taken on Queen Victoria’s persona along with the dress. “Iced latte, even in the winter when your stomach really would do better with a warm drink.”
 
 Okay, it’s definitely Mylene. She runs the coffee shop, Brewed Awakenings, at the top of the hill that leads down to theferry. You can see Eileen’s By The Sea – the guest house that her twin sister owns – from the shop. And still they pretend the other doesn’t exist.
 
 “You’re right,” I tell her. “I get terrible gripes in the winter.”
 
 For a second she says nothing. And I’m reminded of the silence between me and Asher yesterday.
 
 Don’t say sex club. Don’t say sex club.
 
 “Autumn’s decided to make you the guest of honor,” I babble. “Isn’t that great?”
 
 “What?” She looks understandably confused.
 
 “Just you. Nobody else. You get to be treated like a VIP.” I’m making it up as I go along and it shows. Autumn is probably going to kill me. “Anything you want, you just tell me and I’ll arrange it.”
 
 “Another glass of champagne would be good.”
 
 She’s already drained both glasses.Fantastic. A tipsy Queen Victoria is exactly what this party needs.
 
 “Of course. But first I need to take you on the tour,” I say, offering her my arm like I’m her beau. “It’s part of the honor.”
 
 “I have a bad leg.”
 
 That she does. It takes almost forty minutes for me to take her around to see the whole spectacle that Autumn has arranged. I show her the candy stalls, the dance floor, the face painting, and everything else that I can think of. I even decide that she has to meet the chef in the kitchen of the hotel.
 
 “I’m getting very tired now. And very thirsty,” she tells me as we take our leave from Martin, the Michelin starred chef that Hudson headhunted to run the kitchen here. He seemed as perplexed as Mylene as to what she was doing here, but at least I’ve kept her out of the way of Eileen.
 
 I send Autumn a message to ask her where Eileen is, because after all this work I don’t want them coming face to face as we walk back into the garden.
 
 Eileen’s sitting down by the bar. Just stay away from there and we’re good. – Autumn.
 
 Mylene wants a drink. What do I do with her? – Francie.
 
 The party has really filled up since we went inside. We have to walk even slower than before to make our way through the crowd.
 
 “Oh look!” I say, my voice way too high and enthusiastic. “There’s the carousel. You get to ride on that too.”
 
 “I don’t want to ride on it,” she says.
 
 The carousel is the party’s piece de resistance. It’s full size, complete with an intricately painted canopy and hand-crafted horses that each have different colors and expressions.
 
 “It’s part of the guest of honor’s duties,” I tell her, sending up a prayer of apology for being such a liar. I’m doing it for the best reasons, mostly because the Carousel is in the children’s part of the party, a long way from the bar and her twin sister.
 
 But still, a lie is a lie.
 
 “I guess you could skip it,” I muse. “Maybe Autumn could find somebody else to do it. I hear your sister is here.”