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"Bit by bit, Amanda is piecing Jo together.
Jo was the baby they threw in the dustbin nearly twenty-two years ago. What a black, smelly, start to life, in that cylindrical tin coffin. Yes, it was a start and not a finish to life, because Jo is still alive today. Somewhere.
Jo's guardians must have found her wrapped in an old Daily Telegraph under old tea leaves and rotting potato peelings. They will have wiped her free of tea stains and thought, Finders Keepers. They’ll have tried to make her their own but they’ll never have made her whole because Jo still bleeds from having her other half ripped off. She will share the pain of parting. She will know what it is to have grown up without her reflection.
Jo is the twin sister Amanda has never seen, except in her mind's eye. It's in spiritual terms that Jo is most clearly defined. Jo's spirit is pearly-pink or green or blue. Iridescent. Amanda thinks every person has a psychic colour, although she’s not sure she has one of her own.
She can't remember when she first became aware of that naked feeling all around her, that wind-chill sometimes to her left, sometimes to her right, but always spelling out the same lonely message: something is missing. Someone is missing. Jo. She no longer knows where the coast ends and where the sea begins with herself and Jo.
Jo is her twin sister she has never seen. But she has seen her stepsister most days, for nearly ten years..."