Elsewhere, in a gentler universe, they meet.

“Today, I saw your physical twin on the tube sat just a row in front of me. His hair was shorter than yours, and he’d grown a bit of a beer belly. Probably the result of years spent chained to a 9-to-5 job he clearly loathed. He didn’t lift his head once. Our eyes never met.

If it had been you, Egon, we would have locked eyes instantly.

Then I wondered; somewhere, in a parallel world, does your twin also have a Nell? Or perhaps, in that universe, the other version of Nell let life simply happen to her. Maybe that’s how they’d come to recognise one another, not through grand gestures, but through that quiet, shared surrender.

One thing was certain: I wasn’t catching the eye of this other Egon. And that thought made me laugh as I stepped off the train.”