Rosemary Boy (eBook)

Amy Coomer (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025
344 Seiten
Popcorn Press (Verlag)
978-1-923236-38-7 (ISBN)

Infos

Seventeen-year-old Jules Edwards always thought he was ordinary-until a viral news broadcast and a DNA test unravel everything. Kidnapped as a baby, Jules is forced to leave behind the only life he's ever known and return to a family of strangers: the middle-class, grief-stricken Rosemarys, still mourning the son they've just lost-Jules's identical twin, Jack.
Suddenly, Jules is living in Jack's shadow. He's sleeping in his dead brother's room. Dodging his ex-girlfriend. Inheriting his friends and routines-and navigating a media circus that dubs him Rosemary Boy. But behind the carefully constructed facade, nothing feels right. His new stepfather watches him too closely. His biological siblings seem to be walking on eggshells. And the Rosemarys, once a media sensation, have retreated into silence.
Then there's Jasmine Morè-beautiful, aloof and strangely hostile-who captivates Jules from the moment he sees her at Jack's funeral. As Jules digs deeper into Jack's life and the pain he left behind, he begins to question not just who he is, but whether the life he lost was ever really his.

Textauszug

Chapter 2

I was alive, but I was dead. My heart was beating, but I was staring at a picture of myself on a memorial pamphlet with the words ‘Forever Young’ written in cursive above my head.

I always hated that song. Angela had downloaded a selection of songs onto an iPod shuffle for my eleventh birthday, and that one had been fourth on the list. I’d always skipped it, but there was no skipping it today. Today, it was the official funeral song for my dead twin brother.

The funeral was in a place called Regents Park, and Elijah and I were given strict instructions to arrive before 7 a.m., three hours before the scheduled start. This was to avoid the media, and to ensure that my first moments with my real family were uninterrupted by camera flashes. We’d been told to meet them inside the church, but so far it was just Elijah and me. There was nothing but an empty church and some guy in a dark grey suit handing out pieces of paper with my face on it.

He’d done a double take when he’d handed it to me. “Oh,” he’d said. I could practically read his mind. You look just like him.

It had already happened once. About a week ago, when I was leaving a police station in Fremantle. The guy had only been a few years older, and part of me had been astonished that so many young people were tuning into the news these days. The other part of me had been completely mortified.

I took the pamphlet. Grey Suit didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. He’d already set the tone for today. He’d already penetrated my subconscious.

“Just ignore them,” Elijah said. “You’re going to get a lot of stares today—some of them good, some of them weird, like that guy. Just smile and do your best, okay?”

So far, I liked Elijah. He was a large Māori man who didn’t sugar-coat anything. In fact, he was rather forthcoming about the ways in which my life was about to get seriously screwed up. I appreciated that. I appreciated the honesty.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get away from that fucking rubberneck.”

He also swore a lot. I appreciated that, too. The fact that he treated me like an adult and not some fragile little kid.

We walked away from Grey Suit and found a spot under an air conditioner. It was already hot as balls in Brisbane; Fremantle was hot, but this place was like stepping into an armpit. Elijah started typing something on his phone, and I stared down at the picture of my face—our face.

Jack Rosemary was seventeen, like me. He’d had that same stubborn curl at the end of his hair before he’d cut it, whereas I’d begged Angela to let mine grow. He’d listened to the classics, according to the rest of his scheduled funeral songs. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Queen, Nirvana. I liked to listen to the hum of my ceiling fan.

It’s almost like finding out you’ve lived a second life. That somewhere, under the same sky, the same star, a person wearing your face had made a mark on the world. Perhaps they’d broken hearts, or they’d fallen in love, or they’d had sex with people. I certainly hadn’t done any of those things. Maybe Jack had all the charm and charisma; maybe he’d absorbed all of those shiny things in the womb, leaving me a weaker, lesser version of him.

But he’s the one who’s dead.

“I’ve got to take a piss,” Elijah said. “You need to go?”

I shook my head. “Already been three times this morning.”

Elijah laughed softly, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay here for five?”

I nodded.

A car arrived outside. I turned away as the people entered, watching them take their pamphlets in my periphery, watching them cry. It occurred to me that these people were probably my family. People I was supposed to love. People who were supposed to love me. I hated Angela in that moment. Not for kidnapping me. Not for lying to me. I hated her for putting me in such an awkward fucking situation. For making me meet over fifty family members and strangers at the same event.

At the moment, there were only four. A man and a woman and two young children. The man—David Leman, according to the papers—looked to be around his late forties, with tan skin and a silvery blonde beard. He was tall and broad-shouldered. The woman looked like she was made of twigs and her eyes focused on me—light blue eyes, impenetrable. She looked like she was about to collapse at any moment, like even the air conditioning was painful on her frail limbs.

My heart dropped. I recognised her from the papers. Recognised her from my dreams.

My mother.

Pamela Rosemary. Thirty-Eight. According to Elijah, she’d been an aspiring actress before becoming pregnant, and she’s been a stay-at-home mother ever since.

She didn’t look like me. I didn’t look like her. I wasn’t in denial; I could admit that Jack looked like me. We were identical. But this woman, this woman with her yellow blonde hair and her long, birdlike features… She didn’t look like me.

I saw the word form on her lips: Julian. A silent greeting. She wiped the tears from her face, but they were instantly replaced by fresh ones. I could see them shining in her eyes, even from here. It was like her body was threatening to cave in on itself.

Suddenly, the two young children were bobbing around her waist. They pulled on her black dress and one of them, the girl, demanded to be picked up.

I walked over to them, slowly, my heart trembling with each step. Where the hell is Elijah?

“Mumma!” the little girl beamed, pointing at me. “Mumma, it’s Jack!”

I froze, unsure if I should take another step. This was probably as terrifying for them as it was for me. In all the madness, I’d forgotten there could be children here. Children that were related to me, and who had only a rudimentary understanding of death.

Pam looked mortified, before quickly kneeling to put her one free arm around the little boy. She hugged both children, whispering urgently. “No, no, no, this is Julian. The boy I was telling you about.” Pamela smiled nervously at me, and it simultaneously healed me and tore me apart. “This is your new brother.”

Tentatively, I took another step closer. The kids just stared at me, wide-eyed.

“Julian, this is James,” Pam said, nodding to the boy. “And this is Tanner.” She gestured at the little girl in her arms, who frowned at me like I was some kind of cartoon character.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” I said. My voice broke on the word ‘nice’.

The man cleared his throat. He was looking back and forth between Pam and I in a way I couldn’t quite pinpoint. His jaw was tight and he kept sighing through his nose, almost like he was frustrated by the situation.

Finally, he extended his hand to me. “Nice to meet you too, Julian. I’m David, your, uh…stepfather, I suppose.”

“David,” Pamela said quietly. She seemed to instantly regret it.

He shrugged his shoulders. “What? I am his stepfather.”

“We just—” Pamela took a deep breath, turning to me. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. It’s going to be a lot, once the media arrives.”

“I’ll say. I’ve had reporters calling me nonstop. I’m surprised we weren’t trailed leaving the bloody house—”

Pamela turned back to David with a look I couldn’t see. “Honey… Can you take the kids to get a snack or something? There’s some food in my car.”

“Fine,” David said. He nodded at me. “See you later, Julian.”

David ushered the children back toward the door. They stared at me with big eyes and then reluctantly walked outside.

Pamela and I just looked at each other for a moment. For the first time since all of this happened, I wanted to cry. I wanted to fucking weep at this woman’s feet.

I wanted her to let me.

“Julian…” she said, and the rest of her sentence was choked off by a sob.

I needed Elijah. I needed help. After all, most kids don’t ever have to meet their parents; they just know them. They’re not some stranger on the street that they have to approach—some awkward handshake or aborted hug that they have to endure. Some foreign voice on the other end of the phone call. There’s a sea of broken adults who have to know this feeling, but not kids.

“Forgive him,” Pamela said. “David is…blunt, at the best of times.” She nodded toward the car. James is only six, and Tanner just turned four. They’re a bit confused by all of this.”

“Join the club,” I said. I tried to laugh but it sounded wrong. Everything sounded wrong. I’d never been so unaccustomed to the sound of my own voice. I cleared my throat. “It’s, uh, really nice to meet you, Pamela.”

She sniffed, wiping her nose. “Call me Pam, please.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Pam… Most people call me Jules.”

She smiled at me, tears still swimming...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 28.10.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Sachbuch/Ratgeber ► Freizeit / Hobby ► Sammeln / Sammlerkataloge
• Themenwelt: Kinder- / Jugendbuch
• Schlagworte: Coming of Age • family secrets • grief and loss • identity and belonging • Mystery Romance • twin brothers • Young Adult Fiction
• ISBN-10: 1-923236-38-5 / 1923236385
• ISBN-13: 978-1-923236-38-7 / 9781923236387