It figures? Why does it figure? She doesn’t know anything about me—

Oh, she’s recognized me! I knew I was famous.

‘It’s just been since the whole ridiculous business on TV,’ I say, with a modest sigh. ‘When you’re in my position you have to hire security. I mean, I’m sure you can imagine what it’s like.’

She might want an autograph, it occurs to me. I really should get some of those big shiny pictures to carry about with me.

‘I could sign a napkin,’ I suggest. ‘Or a piece of paper?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ says the girl, her tone unchanged. ‘I don’t watch TV. Are you a big deal?’

‘Oh,’ I say, feeling suddenly stupid. ‘Right. I thought … Well … no. I mean, kind of …’ This conversation is excruciating. ‘Look, can we talk?’

‘Talk?’ she echoes, so sarcastically that I wince. ‘It’s a bit late to talk, don’t you think?’

I stare at her in bewilderment.

‘I’m sorry … I don’t follow. Is something wrong?’

‘Jesus H. Christ.’ She closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. ‘Look, just take your little bodyguard and your little designer shoes and your little prinky-prinky voice and go. OK?’

I’m feeling more and more upset by this conversation. Why is she so angry? I don’t even know her. Why did she say I’d come here to gloat?

And what ‘prinky-prinky voice’? I don’t have a prinky-prinky voice.

‘Look.’ I try to stay calm. ‘Please can we start again? All I want is to track down my father and I’m quite worried about him, and this is the only place I can think of, and—’ I break off. ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself properly. My name’s Rebecca.’

‘I know.’ She looks at me strangely. ‘Of course it is.’

‘And what’s your name?’

‘Rebecca too. We’re all called Rebecca.’

It’s as though time stands still. I gape at her blankly for a few seconds, trying to process her words. But they make no sense. We’re all called Rebecca.

We’re all … what?

What?

‘You knew that.’ She seems puzzled by my reaction. ‘You had to know that.’

Am I missing something? Have I moved into some weird, parallel universe? Who’s we?

What the bloody hell is going ON?

‘Your dad did see my dad. Couple days ago.’ She gives me a challenging stare. ‘I guess they had it out at long last.’

‘Had it out about what?’ I say in despair. ‘What? Please tell me!’

There’s a long silence. The other Rebecca is just staring at me with her narrow blue eyes, as though she can’t work me out.

‘What did your dad tell you about that trip?’ she says at last. ‘The trip in seventy-two.’

‘Nothing much. I mean, just little stuff. They went to the rodeo, they ate ice-cream, my dad got really sunburned …’

‘That’s all?’ She seems incredulous. ‘Sunburn?’

‘Yes,’ I say helplessly. ‘What else was there to tell? What do you mean, we’re all called Rebecca?’