My name is Alice. I live in an old mill town in the north of England. It’s not a bad place to live. You can own a home here and live pretty comfortably quite cheaply compared to most places but there’s not much going on and a lot of people find it boring. Most people with any sort of ambition leave to go to university and don’t bother coming back. I love it here though.
My little corner of town is a ten minute walk to the woods and the countryside in one direction and about a thirty minute walk to the town centre in the other direction. My family are here too and I love being able to pop into Grans for a cup of tea and a chat or wander round to my parents where it still feels like home despite moving out years ago.
When I was younger I had big ambitions and as I was a really bright kid everyone expected me to go far but I burned out between my GCSEs and my A Levels and didn’t end up going to Uni. Although it was devastating at first, it actually made me realise that they were never my ambitions in the first place, more my parents ambitions for me. My dream was to have a pleasant job that made enough to get by, marry someone who is my best friend, own our own house, make it a home and be a mum.
I met Jack when I was 21, he was quiet and awkward at first but had the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. We met through a friend on a night in the pub and after a couple of drinks we got chatting. His kind eyes lit up and sparkled as he spoke. We chatted till the pub closed and the rest was history. We were never apart after that day.
We married when I was 23 and bought a little house with a lovely little garden round the corner from my gran and 5 minutes down the road from my parents. George was born when I turned 25, he’s a kind, thoughtful boy with my mess of ginger hair and his daddy’s eyes. Ivy followed 3 years later, a bright, enchanting little girl with her daddy’s dark hair and magic in her eyes. Lastly there is little Teddy who was born 3 years after Ivy. Teddy is an absolute delight, the double of his daddy and adored by his older brother and sister, my cheeky boy. I’ve always said that 3 is a magic number.
I love the bones of all my babies. They are all so different from each other but they light up when they are together and they balance each other out so well. I became a stay at home mum when George was about 2 so money was quite tight for a long time but it was worth it to spend the time watching my babies grow and turn into marvellous little people and they often told me they have the best mummy and daddy in the world. Was my life exciting? Not really, but it was bliss and I loved it.
When Teddy turned 3 just over a year ago he started nursery and I decided it was the perfect time to dip my toe back into the world of work. Nothing glamourous, just a part time job in the library in town during school hours so that I could still be around for the kids but we’d have more spare money to take them on a few adventures.
Not long after I started working at the library, another new girl started on my shift. Her name was Ruby and she wasn’t from round here. She had no family or friends in the area either and her accent was hard to place. At first I thought it was odd that she chose to move here with no ties to the place but I soon forgot about that as we got on so well. Ruby and I spent more and more time together on our breaks and walking to the bus stop together over the next few weeks and then I started inviting her to our home. Jack and the kids all loved her. She was like the little sister I never had and my kids saw her as an aunty.
Me, Jack and the kids could never afford a holiday while I was a stay at home mum so when we were finally able to book a week away to Cornwall over Easter we were all over the moon. Ruby however was not happy for us. She was upset that we didn’t invite her along. I explained that as it was our first ever holiday as a family, we wanted it to be just us and the kids this time but we should plan another in a few months for all of us. Ruby said that she understood and I thought it was fine at first but something about her had shifted. I couldn’t put my finger on it but things felt off. I convinced myself that I was just being paranoid and maybe feeling a bit guilty and managed to push it out of my mind.
Our holiday was perfect. We stayed in a lovely cottage, had campfires on the beach, spent ages exploring nature around the cottage and the history of the little villages nearby. By the end of the holiday I was really looking forward to coming home and telling Ruby all about it. We arrived home on the Sunday evening and I let her know we were home safe. She text back to say that she couldn’t wait to see me at work and catch up.
When I arrived at work the following day Ruby pretty much danced through the door but I couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t look quite like herself. Her usual stylish blazer had been replaced with a chunky hand knitted cardigan just like the ones my Gran makes for me and her diamond studs had been swapped for cheap silver dangly owls like mine. Weird but whatever.
By the next week though her whole look had changed. Her smart heels swapped for comfy brown boots and her usual well fitted jeans and smart top swapped for a bright knee length dress. Now, I’m all for an image overhaul but she was dressed exactly like me and I’m hardly the queen of style. It was really starting to freak me out but when I mentioned it to Jack he just laughed and said I was a trend setter and that I should be flattered.
I shook off my unease and tried to see the funny side. I chatted to Ruby, lovingly teasing her about her new look and she told me she just admired how I dress to make me happy and don’t really bother with fashion and she wanted to see how it felt. She also told me she’d been spending time with my gran whilst I was on holiday and Gran had offered to knit her a cardigan. I thought it was actually lovely of her to keep my gran company and sweet that she admired me. That weekend we spent time together as usual and she came to my parents with us for Sunday dinner. Although I’ve always been friendly with pretty much everyone where I live, I’ve not really had many close friends in years so it was really nice finally finding someone who I felt so close to.
Another week went by with things going great. I went to the kids parents evenings which went amazingly and we had a weekend of just me, Jack and the kids chilling out at home having living room picnics and a lazy days all piled in our big bed watching films that me and Jack loved as kids.
The following Monday I got into work and Ruby had cut her long blonde hair to a chin length messy bob and dyed it the exact same shade of ginger as mine. Aside from being impressed at how natural the dye job looked I was really freaked out now. This was beyond admiring my slightly odd dress sense. She looked like my clone. I decided then that it was best to stay friendly but start to distance myself a bit.
Ruby called in sick the next day and I was relieved. I hoped she wasn’t too sick obviously but it was nice to be the only me in the building again. She was off the rest of the week too and by Friday the weirdness and unease was the furthest thing from my mind as I looked forward to the weekend with my family.
That Friday feeling quickly disappeared when I got to the kids school to pick them up as the teachers looked at me confused and told me that “their mum” had collected them early. I felt sick. I tried to call Jack but my calls went straight to voicemail, then tried my parents and my gran. None of them answered. I rang the police who assured me that they would send someone over as soon as they could but it might take a couple of hours.
Frustrated that it wasn’t being treated as an emergency and not knowing what else to do I got a taxi to my parents house as Jack would still be at work. As I made my way to the front door I looked through the window and an overwhelming sense of relief washed over me as I saw my beautiful babies sat round the table with my parents. It must have been a misunderstanding I thought to myself. Maybe the teachers meant my mum picked them up. I must have arranged it with Mum and forgotten about it. That sweet sweet relief was short lived though and quickly turned to dread as the next thing I saw was Jack walking into the room with his arm around Ruby, laughing as we always did as he kissed her on the forehead.
Furiously I banged on the window. My mum and dad quickly came outside. For a moment I expected a “gotcha!” and a hug as they laughed about pranking me but nothing prepared me for their actual reaction. They looked at me like I was a stranger, asked what I thought I was playing at and threatened to call the police if I didn’t get off their property as I was scaring their grandchildren. I heard the kids crying for me and tried to run to them but as I did they ran to Ruby as she said “Don’t worry sweethearts, Mummy won’t let anyone get you”.
I ran home at this point feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and absolutely terrified but when I got there my keys wouldn’t work. I slept in the garage that night as the lock on the side door is broken and in the morning I walked as I tried to come up with a plan. People I’ve been friendly with for years no longer recognised me and I tried every number in my phone but the only person that answered was my best childhood friend who moved a couple of hours away when she went to Uni. I’m not sure she believes what happened but she has let me stay at her place for a couple of weeks now. The police never came or called back and when I called again to chase them up they had no record of my original call. I thought about reporting it again but with how people have been with me since then I’m not sure its the best course of action anymore.
Has anybody ever heard of anyone with a similar experience? I need help to get my family and my life back.