In the seance, Margaret had talked about being so alone. That meant she probably didn’t have flatmates. That was good — Amanda wouldn’t have to start communicating like Margaret straight away. Another key opened the apartment door. Feeling along the wall, she located a light switch and pushed it.
She was pleasantly surprised by what she saw. She’d imagined Margaret living in a place that looked as depressing as she did. But this apartment was very nice. It wasn’t a grand, fancy place, but it was modern, well-furnished, and even trendy. There were hanging plants, a colourful rug on the floor, pictures on the walls. A big framed poster from a rock concert hung over the sofa. Funny — Margaret hadn’t seemed like the kind of person who went to rock concerts. There was a framed photograph on an end table, showing five good-looking people in their twenties on what looked like a tropical beach. Friends of Margaret’s? But then why was she so lonely?
Amanda moved into what she thought would be a bedroom. She was right, and once again, it was a stylish room. There was a bright blue and white duvet on the big four-poster bed, big fluffy pillows, and a large white dressing table with a matching chest of drawers. A huge full-length mirror was on the wall, and there was a big walk-in wardrobe. That got Amanda’s full attention. She went inside, switched on the light and gasped. Margaret had clothes, and lots of them. On a wall were shelves covered with shoes. Checking things out, Amanda could see that the clothes and shoes weren’t the best brands. Most were from discount stores that sold cheaper versions of the hot new looks, but the things she found were a lot better looking than the awful baggy sweater and wrinkled skirt she had on now.
Why was Margaret wearing this? Just because she was in mourning for her mother? It seemed to Amanda that you didn’t have to dress like an old bag lady just to show you were sad about your mother’s death.
She wandered over to the mirror and examined herself. Taking off the glasses, she found her reflection disturbing. Not just because Margaret was so drab — it was something else. That pasty skin — it didn’t look natural. She rubbed Margaret’s cheek, and then looked at her hand. It was stained with white powdery stuff. Peering closer at her reflection, she saw a spot of normal-looking skin on the cheek.
Hurrying into the bathroom, she took a washcloth and scrubbed her face. More powder came off, and more real skin was visible. It wasn’t just ordinary skin either. Margaret had a nice golden tan! Why had she covered it? Maybe she thought it would look wrong to have a tan so soon after her mother’s death.
It wasn’t just puzzlement that made Amanda scratch her head. It had been itching for a while now, and after scratching harder, she realized why. Margaret was wearing a wig.
This was getting weirder and weirder. When Amanda lifted the wig off, Margaret’s own hair turned out to be a much nicer shade of light brown with some blonde streaks — the kind that must have been put in by a good hairdresser. The hair had been flattened down by the wig, but once Amanda poked at it with a comb for a while, she could see that Margaret had a cute laye red bob. And when she took off the baggy skirt and sweater, she discovered that Margaret had a good figure too.
Rummaging in Margaret’s chest of drawers, she found skinny jeans and a tight-fitting top. A box on top of the dressing table contained lots of makeup, all good brands. She applied eyeliner, mascara, a little blusher and a rose-pink lipstick. Then she stepped back from the mirror and examined herself again.
Margaret was cute! If she’d looked like this at the seance Amanda would never have felt so sorry for her, not even with her sad story. Well, OK, she might have felt a little sorry for her because her mother had died, but not so much that she’d do a body-snatch.
She went back into the living room and looked at the photo on the end table again. Now she recognized Margaret as one of the attractive young people on the beach. That was probably where she’d got her tan. She took the wallet out of Margaret’s bag and examined the driver’s licence again. She could see the photo clearly now, and Margaret looked pretty much like Amanda had just made her look. So Amanda hadn’t given her a makeover — this was how Margaret normally dressed. Exploring further, she found a couple of credit cards in the wallet too.
It dawned on her that it might not be so awful being Margaret Robinson for a little while. She wouldn’t mind living in this apartment. And she was twenty-five years old! She could go to clubs and hang out in places that would never let a fourteen-year-old in.
And there was something else — if she remained in this body up to Monday, robot-Amanda would have the operation in her place! Yes, there was a lot about this situation that could work to her advantage.
A phone rang. It sounded like a mobile, so she dived back into Margaret’s handbag.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Margie, it’s me.’ The voice was a woman’s.
Amanda tried to sound casual. ‘Oh, hi. How are you?’
‘Fine. Well, burning up, actually. It’s ninety-nine degrees here, and our air conditioner’s broken.’
Amanda didn’t know what the temperature was outside, but she was very sure it wasn’t anywhere near ninety-nine degrees. It had been cool when she left the seance.
‘Where are you?’ she asked.
The woman sounded amused. ‘Where do you think I am? Miami, of course. You’ll be coming down to visit next month, won’t you?’
‘Um, I guess. I’ll try.’
‘You must come,’ the woman said. ‘It’s been too long. We’ll send you money for a flight. Daddy and I want to see you. Wait, he wants to say hello.’
A man spoke. ‘Margie, listen to your mother. We’ll expect you in December.’
‘OK. I have to go now. Bye.’
‘Here, say goodbye to your mother.’
‘Bye, Margie!’ the woman chirped.
Amanda swallowed. ‘Bye. Mom.’
They were disconnected. Amanda just stood there for a minute, still holding the phone. Daddy. Mom.
What was going on here?
CHAPTER SEVEN
SO HOW DID IT go with Amanda?
Ken yawned. It was Saturday morning, he was still in bed, and for once he didn’t mind having a chat with his old friend.
I don’t know. She was sort of weird.
How do you mean, weird?
Well, like, at first things were really good. I mean, we were kind of connecting, you know? We talked a lot on the way there. And during the seance I couldn’t even look at her because I was afraid we’d start laughing. I thought things were going pretty well for us.
Cool.
But then things changed. After the seance, coming home, she barely spoke to me. I asked her if she wanted to get something to eat, but she said she wasn’t hungry. So I took her home. And she didn’t invite me to come in.
Did you kiss her?
I didn’t even get a chance. The second we arrived at her place, she went inside and closed the door. She didn’t even say goodbye!
That’s pretty weird. Maybe she’s just not into you. Hey, what are you doing today?
I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.
Why don’t you go to the pool?
The indoor pool at the Community Centre? Nah, it’s too crowded on Saturdays.
Oh, c’mon, you could use a good swim. Work out your frustrations over Amanda. And you’d be doing me a favour.