Duplicity (22 page)

Refreshed after the food and the shower he took, he found some clean clothes - his wife usually saw to that for him - and got the car out of the garage. At least he wouldn’t have to make any more journeys on foot.

Helen looked much better now, although still quite pale and shaken, which was only natural. ‘It was my own fault,’ she said, in answer to his question as to what happened. ‘I’d stayed too long with Mrs Rattray - she loves having somebody to speak to - and I was hurrying to catch a bus, and I didn’t stop to look if anything was coming when I stepped off the pavement. I’m getting to be a silly old woman.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Frank protested. ‘You’re still as young and lovely as the day I first saw you setting that display in the hairdresser’s window.’

‘And you’re still as big a flatterer,’ she grinned. ‘No, we’re both growing old, and I won’t be able to do anything for weeks now. How on earth are you going to manage?’

‘Don’t worry about me, lass. I’ll manage. I’d a decent breakfast this morning, you know. Couple of eggs and two slices of toast. You’ve plenty of cookery books lying around, and I’ll soon learn. Anyway, you’ll likely get home in a week or two, so you can keep me right.’

It was quite a few weeks before Helen was allowed home, however. Her broken leg was healing satisfactorily, but her smashed knee was causing quite a problem, and once she was discharged, she had to attend once every week to have it examined. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, they became even closer to each other than they had been for many a long year, Frank taking pride in being the cook/housekeeper and his wife enjoying an easier life than she had ever done.

‘You know something?’ she remarked one afternoon when they were sitting together after lunch, ‘I’m wondering what happened to Roselle and Brian and the twins.’

‘I thought she’d have kept in touch.’ ‘So did I, and I’m sure it was because of Brian. He never liked me, you know, and there was something about him that I …’

‘No, you were wrong about him, pet. He’s a good lad.’ ‘Did you never wonder why they moved out so quickly?’ ‘The bank shifted him to one of their Aberdeen branches.’

‘Yes, that’s what he told Roselle, but I’m not so sure. It was just after she told me they’d been in Belfast before they came here. That’s why he got her away from me.’

‘Ach no, you’re imagining things.’

‘I’m telling you. He’s got something to hide, and I’m telling you, he was scared I was trying to make her remember things.’

‘So you were, but what was wrong with that?’

‘He doesn’t want her to remember, that’s what. He must have done something wrong, committed some kind of crime or …’

‘Oh, for any sake! Listen to yourself, lass. Who d’you think you are? Miss Marple? The doctors told him not to force her, and her memory would likely come back by itself.’

‘Well, it never did, did it?’ Helen looked triumphant. ‘I wish I knew where they were. We could have driven up to see them.’

‘They don’t want to see us.’ Frank lifted his newspaper. ‘Now that’s it. I’m not going to discuss it again.’

Knowing that she had no way of finding out where the Lewises had gone, Helen closed her mouth, but she was still convinced that Brian was hiding something. Maybe he wasn’t a criminal, he didn’t look like a criminal, but he had something to hide. Something he didn’t want her, especially, to find out. She heaved a sigh. And she never would find out, not when Frank wouldn’t listen to her.

Chapter Five

Both now attending Peterhead Academy, a ten-minute run in the bus from their home, Roddy and Dilly had both stretched, although the girl was not as tall as the boy’s almost six foot. They were still very close, and although their classmates were at the age of trying to attract the attention of the opposite sex, they were only interested in each other. This did not escape notice, and Roddy especially was the butt of many barbed remarks, but he didn’t respond, even when another boy accused him of being a ‘poofter’. He knew that wasn’t true, he did have feelings for a girl, although, unfortunately, that girl was his sister.

It was not until they were both almost sixteen that Dyllis tumbled to this fact. She was teased by the other girls because she didn’t have a boyfriend, but not one of them had had the nerve to say it wasn’t healthy for any girl to be so attached to her brother.

Dilly had been flattered by the attention paid to her by the tallest boy in her year. Malcolm Finnie was even taller than Roddy, broader and more athletic, and a big hit with the other girls. One after the other, they did their best to hook him, but after a couple of ‘dates’ he moved on to someone else. When he picked on Dyllis, she did not have the experience to recognise him for the philanderer he was, so she believed every word of his sweet talk. Of course, she was aware that he’d taken a few of her friends out, but assumed that they had greatly exaggerated what they said had happened. He would never have told any of them that they were the prettiest girl in school, nor that their eyes were deeper than the blue of the sky, nor that their mouths were the cutest, their lips the sweetest -which he whispered in her ear.

She was completely swept out of her senses by him, not knowing that he had slowed down his usual rapid methods of getting to the ‘nitty-gritty’, which was all that really interested him. He had recognised that she was different from the other girls, that his usual tactics would scare her off, and he found that it was even more fun prolonging the build-up than the actual seduction itself.

Roddy couldn’t understand his feelings when he saw Dilly with Malcolm Finnie. It felt as if he was jealous, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be jealous of somebody getting friendly with his sister? Could he? No, it couldn’t be that. Maybe it was because Finnie was the most popular boy in their year.

Even having more or less convinced himself of this, Roddy couldn’t stop himself from keeping a close eye on them, so much so that the other boys started teasing him.

‘What’s up with you, Lewis? You can’t keep your eyes off your sister when Finnie’s anywhere near her - are you in love with her, or something?’

‘D’you wish it was you she was smooching with?’

When he was in bed at nights, he found himself imagining that he was the one with his arms around Dilly, was pressed against her, had her looking at him with that soppy look. What was wrong with him? He must be going off his head, thinking of his sister like that, even though there was no doubt that she was the prettiest girl in the whole school. There was only one girl who came anywhere near her for looks, Tracy Little. She was a tiny doll-like thing, blonde hair done up in two plaits, quite nice blue eyes and quite a cute little nose. Yes, the more he thought about Tracy, the more he could see her good features. As for other good points about her, her figure was blossoming, her waist was so small he would surely be able to span it … if he tried; if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

Dyllis was quite sure that what she felt for Malcolm Finnie was love; the speeding up of her heart when he looked at her, the misery that swamped her if he so much as looked at another girl. It was stupid really … unless it was love. Love excused everything, even this ever-growing need for him to kiss her properly, instead of the peck he gave her on the cheek when they parted. Probably he didn’t want anyone to see. His pals would likely tease him if he showed how much he loved her. Of course, that was it. That was why he actually stopped his lips from coming in contact with hers. If she could only bring herself to move her head a little at the crucial moment, and put her mouth in the firing line, so to speak. Once the first time was past, everything else would fall into place.

The lovesick girl had no idea of what could follow the passionate kisses that she longed for. Her mind did not touch on the sexual complications that would arise, the arousal of a boy who was well experienced in the art of seduction. She believed that she was aware of all aspects of the making of another life and was confident that she could stop any boy from going that far, but she was, in fact, quite ignorant of the dangers of allowing passions to have their full rein.

Thus assured, she let Malcolm persuade her to skip school one afternoon, each hiding in the appropriate toilet block until all the other pupils were gone. When she heard his soft call that it was safe to come out, she opened the cubicle door to be violently shoved back inside.

His hands were everywhere, and no matter how she tried to stop him when he lifted her skirt, he had touched her most intimate parts. He stopped her screams by covering her mouth with his, and had almost succeeded in pushing himself inside her when, in sheer desperation, she bit his tongue.

He jumped back in agony. ‘You little bitch!’

Whipping out his handkerchief and holding it with his left hand to staunch the blood running down his chin, he gave her a hard slap across the face. ‘You stupid, ignorant bitch! You must’ve known what I was going to do. You were kissing me hard enough. You were wanting it just as much as me.’

He turned on his heel, yanked up his zip and stamped out angrily, leaving her to sink down on the toilet seat with a hand to her hot cheek. He was wrong! She hadn’t known what he was going to do. She would have stopped him long before this if she had. He hadn’t loved her at all. He had only wanted sex with her. He would likely tell everybody what a baby she was, frightened to go ‘all the way’, as they euphemistically called it. The searing tears came then, as she realised what a trusting fool she had been. All the other girls would laugh at her - they already knew what kind of boy he was; just out for one thing.

Having cried herself calmer, she decided that she couldn’t go back inside, where everyone would see how upset she was. She had better sit here until lessons came to an end, and then walk out as if she had just been to the toilet. She would make straight for Roddy. He’d see that she was upset and would take care of her. He wouldn’t let Malcolm Finnie touch her.

Just over an hour later, the noise of the exodus began and Dilly walked as steadily as she could on her still trembling legs out into the playground, keeping her eyes straight ahead while she turned towards the gates. When the hand touched her shoulder, she knew it was Roddy, but kept on walking.

‘Hey, Dill, what’s up?’ he asked, stepping alongside her. Her silence told him more than she knew, and he said no more, guessing that she wouldn’t want to talk about it. The only thing was, he really wanted to know what Finnie had done to her.

Not a word was said while they waited for the bus, and they were practically home before he asked, ‘Finnie, I suppose?’ Her nod made him go on, ‘What did he do to you? You’d better tell me the truth. Did you let him … ?’

‘He tried, but … I bit his tongue.’ Quite put out when Roddy burst out laughing, she snapped, ‘It wasn’t funny.’

‘I’m sorry, it was just picturing the great Romeo not getting his own way.’

What he was picturing made her smile herself, recalling the utter shock on the injured face. ‘I suppose he wasn’t expecting that.’

‘I bet he wasn’t. I can’t wait to tell the boys.’

‘No, no, you mustn’t tell anybody,’ she pleaded. ‘I’d be too ashamed.’

‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘Promise you won’t say anything.’

‘OK, I promise … but I’d really have enjoyed it.’

Nearing their stop, they both stood up, and by silent consent the matter was not brought up again, but the incident had also made Roddy realise something. It was far too painful for him to think of what could have happened in that school toilet, and shuddered at where it had almost taken place. If he hadn’t promised not to say anything to anybody, he’d have sought out Finnie next day and battered the living daylights out of him, but then everyone would have wanted to know why -although most of their classmates would have a good idea.

The thing was, would he have felt so badly about it if it had been anyone other than Finnie? Or anyone other than Dilly? That was the worrying point. He felt almost as if she had betrayed him, when it wasn’t her fault. It was the simple fact that she had felt safe enough and even wanted the sod enough to go with him into the toilets. There was only one explanation for his own aching heart, and he had to admit it. He did love her, but it was clear that she didn’t feel the same way about him, and his only consolation was that she didn’t love Malcolm Finnie now, either.

Dyllis was very self-conscious when she went to school the following morning. If word of what had happened had got round, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. But not a word was said, not a knowing glance was shot her way, not a hint that anything was different today from any other day. It was well into the forenoon before it came to her that Finnie himself would have said nothing. He wouldn’t want a soul to know how she had rejected him. He had probably got his eye on one of the other girls already, and was planning her seduction.

Roddy had been doing some really serious considering about his innermost feelings, and had come to the conclusion that he should get to know Tracy Little. Concentrating on her should take his mind off what he felt for his twin; perhaps even banish it altogether. His mind made up, he hung around the school gate one morning until he saw her coming, and made a bee-line for her before any one else spotted her. Unfortunately, Malcolm Finnie, of all people, must have had the same idea, stepping close to her and pipping Roddy at the post. He, however, was goaded into action by the Lothario and, determined not to give him the chance to speak, he grabbed Tracy’s arm and pulled her aside.

‘Are you doing anything after school?’ he asked, diffidently.

Being something of a flirt, and accustomed to boys demanding her for a date, his shyness intrigued her, plus the fact that Finnie was listening with a sneer on his face, she switched on her sweetest smile. ‘No, I’m not. Why?’

‘I thought maybe you’d like to come for a walk with me.’

‘We’d likely miss the bus home,’ she pointed out softly, ‘and my mum’d be worried.’

Finnie’s curled top lip gave Roddy courage to give an instant solution to this. ‘I’ll ask Dilly to go and tell your mum you’ll be on the next bus. Would that be OK?’