Amy Bird - Yours Is Mine

Kate Dixon is miserable. So when an e-mail from a stranger offers her a no-strings-attached, three-month-long life exchange, she jumps at the chance. After all: what has she got to lose?

But leaving your life in someone else’s hands is a dangerous game. And Kate’s about to find out just how seriously her opponent is playing.

Yours is Mine

Amy Bird

www.CarinaUK.com

AMY BIRDlives in London, where she is currently dividing her time between working as a solicitor, finalising her second novel, and completing a Creative Writing MA. She loves to read and review books as well as write them, and has also written a number of plays, which have been performed to large audiences and received critical acclaim. Her husband, Michael, writes too and one of their favourite pastimes is to ‘fantasy cast’ films of their novels while cooking up new concoctions in the kitchen. For updates on her writing follow her on Twitter, @London_Writer

I would like to thank all the people who have helped in my journey as a writer over the years. In particular: contemporaries and tutors at Birkbeck and Faber Academy for providing an environment to explore my voice; my family and friends for their understanding when I vanish into my study for hours (/days) on end; and to everyone at Carina (especially the lovely Clio Cornish) for developing Yours is Mine for readers and welcoming me to the Carina family. And extra big thanks to my husband, Michael, for his unerring support, re-reading of re-drafts and all the ‘constructive’ feedback.

If Yours is Mine keeps you on the edge of your seat, pass it on. But please: keep its secrets safe. #YoursisMine

Cover

Blurb Kate Dixon is miserable. So when an e-mail from a stranger offers her a no-strings-attached, three-month-long life exchange, she jumps at the chance. After all: what has she got to lose? But leaving your life in someone else’s hands is a dangerous game. And Kate’s about to find out just how seriously her opponent is playing.

Title Page Yours is Mine Amy Bird www.CarinaUK.com

Author Bio AMY BIRD lives in London, where she is currently dividing her time between working as a solicitor, finalising her second novel, and completing a Creative Writing MA. She loves to read and review books as well as write them, and has also written a number of plays, which have been performed to large audiences and received critical acclaim. Her husband, Michael, writes too and one of their favourite pastimes is to ‘fantasy cast’ films of their novels while cooking up new concoctions in the kitchen. For updates on her writing follow her on Twitter, @London_Writer

Acknowledgements I would like to thank all the people who have helped in my journey as a writer over the years. In particular: contemporaries and tutors at Birkbeck and Faber Academy for providing an environment to explore my voice; my family and friends for their understanding when I vanish into my study for hours (/days) on end; and to everyone at Carina (especially the lovely Clio Cornish) for developing Yours is Mine for readers and welcoming me to the Carina family. And extra big thanks to my husband, Michael, for his unerring support, re-reading of re-drafts and all the ‘constructive’ feedback.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-four

Extract

Copyright Page

- Kate-

The day the invitation appeared in her email inbox, Kate Dixon was ready to give up.

Cards congratulating her on the success of her dad’s funeral the previous week were still pouring through the letterbox of his Kielder cottage. ‘I thought it went well, all things considered’, they said, or ‘He would have been very pleased’. Kate knew the blue silk inside the coffin had been fetching, but she still thought dad would have preferred to be alive. They could be going for a jog, even now, in the Kielder National Park surrounding his cottage, like they used to.

At least Neil had been there to fulfil husbandly duties, the Navy having flown him home for the funeral. He’d even come to the pulpit with her when she’d read, gently caressing her fingers when she began to cry.

“Don’t worry,” he’d whispered, smiling that sweet Neil smile. “I’m here.”

Yes, she had thought, returning his smile, Neil was there. He would protect her, and soon they’d be laughing together again, reminiscing about happier times.

Then Neil had re-bereaved her after the funeral by telling her he had to return to the Gulf for a further three months.

Without Neil to soothe her, Kate sat on the sofa in the cottage, playing the last year back in her mind. She remembered the emptiness in her dad’s eyes when the prognosis had worsened. Cancer’s a bastard, he’d said. He’d been right. Dad had refused a nurse, or a hospice, so Kate had suffered with him.

Dad.

Kate sighed. Trying to push out of her mind his vomiting, his cries of pain, his final night when she’d held him into peace, she pulled herself off the sofa to get her iPhone from the desk. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and found tears forming in her eyes. It happened every time she saw her reflection. How was she supposed to propel that pale ghost of a self onwards? Or summon the energy to move their stuff back to Portsmouth? Or get the composure to don a suit and speak to a client there – or even her secretary? She couldn’t work remotely forever.

Waking the phone, she checked for mail. Come on, somebody must have something to share – Neil if he’d reached the ship, or a social networking update. Finally, the phone vibrated.

‘Want to stop the world and get off – into somebody else’s world?’

The title of the new email was so apposite that Kate couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. She opted for both. This must be junk mail, though, right? She should delete it without reading it. But she didn’t. She touched through into the email.

‘Dear Kate’ it began. At least they’d bothered to personalise it.

‘Bored? Lonely? Frustrated?’

One out of three, thought Kate.

‘Or just want a change? Here is your chance to take a break from your life and step into someone else’s – while knowing that your own life is in safe hands. This is for serious research for me – but a break for you. If you fancy living somebody else’s life (and in a London flat) for a few months and have your own property that you can offer, look no further. Simply reply to this email with a short description of your property location, job (if you have one) and a contact telephone number, or call the number below. Interview and details to be arranged with suitable applicant(s).’

It then set out a London telephone number, and was signed off by someone called Anna.

Nowhere to enter her credit card number, so she wasn’t being phished, Kate thought. Perhaps it was some new market research tool to get information for a dating site or a property search engine? It was surely far too naïvely constructed to be genuine. Who would expect anyone to pick up the phone to do a property-exchange (or exchange lives, whatever that meant) for the purposes of some mysterious research? No, it must be a scam, she decided, as she pressed delete with relish. There may be some poor fools out there unworldly enough to dial a line on divert to some premium rate number, but she would not be one of them.