Crystal Evans' phone vibrated on the coffee table at 3b Mansionettes, the movement rattling the glass. She didn't answer it—he phoned most days at this time. Usually, it was when he'd had a beer or two and the maudlin mood set in.

"Crystal, I just feel so guilty..."

Yeah? Me too, mate.

Dina stood in front of her, arms folded. "For Christ's sake, Crystal! Just block him."

The sensible decision, yes, but what if he heard news? What if she went to him first? Crystal wanted him to be able to contact her immediately. He'd sworn he would.

When the phone went to answer machine, she picked it up and clicked on her Facebook app, checking out the page she'd created there to see if there were any updates. The picture she'd uploaded had been shared hundreds of times and occasionally someone would comment, Oh yeah, I saw her the other week at such-and-such.

At first, Crystal had gone to whichever location they mentioned. But after a while, she stopped. It was a waste of time. She was never there. Occasionally, people put up outlandish stuff, such as—is this an old pic of your sister? I thought I saw her in the Crowley Townhouse, but she was... um... a lot bigger.

That was nonsense. Crystal's twin was like her; both of them border-line anorexic and terrified of food and what it did to your thighs, hips and belly. Whoever the guy had seen, it wasn't Eve.

She posted her usual message. Hey guys! Another Friday and another day without my sister (sad face). Keep sharing, please. Keep looking.

She allowed herself a final look at the picture. She and Eve, their arms around each other. Crystal doing her usual social media pose, the pout, chin down to make her face look slimmer and her fingers held in a vee in front of her mouth. Eve wasn't as party central as Crystal, so her look was less posed—just a wide smile and eyes that held warmth.

Crystal put the phone down again.

"Have you been to the police again?" Dina asked, and Crystal nodded. They explained that people went missing all the time and if they didn't turn up a week or so afterwards, well... The dot dot dot allowed Crystal to summon up hideous images, and that screaming in her head that never went away. It's your fault, your fault!

"Hey, she loves you. She'll come back," Dina said. She believed Eve stayed away to punish her sister and him, but it had been weeks. What if she'd run into, or what if. Too many possibilities and none of them pleasant.

As it had done so thousands of times over the last month, Crystal's mind returned to that night. Josh had called round. He and Eve were heading out for the night—a club thing he'd got free tickets for. He was early, and Eve wasn't yet home from work, phoning him to apologise and to say she'd be about another couple of hours. Extra work and a tube strike combined to cause the delay.

Never mind, though. Crystal will keep you company!

Until a year ago, Crystal was the one who always had the boyfriends. Men queued up to date her. Funny, they didn't so much with Eve, even though she and Crystal were identical twins. You'd have thought some of those men would want Eve too, but it didn't happen.

Then, Josh came along, and he fell hard for Eve. Crystal fell in a love with him a bit too. He went for the hipster vibe—all clever facial hair, specs and a tee shirt tucked into skinny black jeans—and the look was made for him. The specs magnified big dark eyes and the facial hair made you want to stroke his face.

And he worked for an animal charity, FFS. Veganism, he said, was the only sensible choice for any right-thinking human being. Save the animals, save the planet. Could this guy get any cuter?

Tonight, he smelled of musk and citrus, that distinctive aftershave he wore and that lingered in a room after he'd gone. He sat opposite her in their living room. Dina worked shifts at the hospital, and this weekend was her nights one.

"Do you wanna a beer?" she asked, wondering why her voice trembled.

He glanced up, tipping his head to the side. Oh god, he was cute. "Yeah—only if you're having one."

She got to her feet, conscious of the feel of his eyes on her back as she left the room. She'd dressed carefully, knowing he was coming round—a silk vest and no bra underneath, denim cut-offs and cork wedges that added six inches to her height.

"I can't find the bottle opener," she said when she returned, designer beers in hand.

He held out his hand for them and took the tops off with his teeth. Crystal felt her nipples stiffen in response. She loved men who could do that—a cocky, confident move that pressed buttons every time. She took one of the bottles from him and positioned herself opposite him, the coffee table between them. With her elbows on her knees, she gave him a bird's-eye view of her chest when she leant forward—the gap in the vest making it clear she was bra-less.

Josh drank his beer and Crystal tried not to stare. He even made necking a lager look sexy, the throat moving as the liquid went down. He chatted about work—the charity was planning a protest march next week to demand the closure of a huge meat factory in the Midlands—and wondered, idly, why Crystal wasn't do anything special tonight.

An-off-the-wall gorgeous girl like her? Shame.

They'd finished their beers already, so Crystal got up to get more. In the kitchen, she pressed her face to the fridge door, hoping it might slow down the thudding of her heart. Oh, why was he so...

"I can't believe you don't have someone." There he was, behind her, the words whispered in her ear. He pressed himself against her, pushing the two of them against the solidity of the fridge door, his tongue tickling the back of her neck. His bristles prickled there, and her mind flashed forward—if his beard against her neck felt so good, imagine how much better the rough sensation of his head between her legs would be...

Hands slid under her vest and up to her chest, fingers gently teasing her nipples and she squirmed against him. The words 'your sister's boyfriend', 'wrong', and 'don't do this' tried to make themselves heard, but a mind that imagined this too often shouted them down.

Her brain wasn't in control, anyway. Her groin, breasts—even the back of her neck—took charge, and they wanted every bit of this to continue.

She undid the button on her cut-offs and moved her hand behind, so she could undo his skinny black jeans. Josh's cock pushed against the crease in her arse, but Crystal was having none of it. A gentleman always lets a lady go first, and she guided his hand to her clitoris, pushing back against him. Fast, fast, slow... Josh had large hands, but the fingers moved delicately, forefinger and middle finger alternately stroking and circling. The build-up started in her stomach and moved its way down. Any. Second. Now.

And boom! The sharp peak of adrenaline and pleasure, and the shudder of contractions that radiate through the body. He held onto her, one hand on each breast, her head tipped back, as she came.

And if one good turn deserves another? The flatmates of 3b Mansionettes never ate off their kitchen table, preferring their dinner in the living room, TV on. Who said tables were just for eating, anyway? Crystal bent forward over it, hands supporting her, and Josh groaned. "You read my mind!"

Behind her, his cock pressed against her arse once more, and she giggled. Sex was never as slick and smooth as it was in the films. That cock was going to need some help finding its way in, and a good job she'd just come too—wet enough that he could slide in just like that. A bit of adjustment and some hands-on help, and he was.

The contractions had continued, pulsing around him. "I'm going to—"

It amused Crystal no end that so many men felt the need to tell you when they were about to climax. Were you meant to say, "Well done, mate!" and give them a round of applause?

Seconds later, he groaned—a long exhalation of 'oh', and loud enough to give the neighbours something to complain about if she hadn't already pissed them off with her own cries five minutes before.

Sweat tricked down her back, pooling at the place where they still joined. Josh rained kisses on her shoulder and the top of her back, his fingers moving forward once more—ah, the delightful surprise of a man who likes to pleasure a woman twice, and oh goodness me, it looked as if she might...

"What's going on?"

The voice, high-pitched and alarmed, sounded far off. An illusion. Crystal pushed herself back from the table slowly, detaching from Josh in comedic fashion. The indignity—her and this man, semi-naked and him with his half-erect, dripping cock stood there while her sister looked on.

Eve's hand had gone to her mouth, her eyes filled with tears.

"How could you?" It was difficult to know who she addressed the question to—Crystal, Josh or both. She stayed there a couple of seconds, hand still in place, eyes still watery, before turning and bolting from the flat.

And that had been the last time Crystal saw her sister.

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