Authors: Doris Davidson
‘I suppose so.’
‘So I’ll see you here at the gate at twenty to four?’
‘OK.’ She pulled away, but tossed her head defiantly as she passed Malcolm Finnie.
Roddy carefully turned the other way. There was no need to raise friction by crowing about his little victory, and he still had to ask his sister to tell Mrs Little.
His mind was not on his lessons that day. The very act of making an actual date had made him feel better about it, and Tracy was a lovely girl. He certainly wouldn’t try to do anything he shouldn’t; maybe on some future date, though.
The more Roselle thought about it, the stronger grew her conviction that an unhealthy relationship had grown between the twins. It had just been on Roddy’s side at first, but it had developed more noticeably on Dilly’s side during the last week or two. She couldn’t let it go on, perhaps even now it was too late to stop it, and what could she do anyway?
Hopefully, once they left school, the jobs they found would keep them apart during the day - although Brian was trying to talk them into carrying on their schooling and following on to a university, or some kind of further education. She came to a sudden decision. Let fate take its way. If there was going to be trouble - incest or whatever they called it - well, hers couldn’t be the first family it had happened to, but she needed to talk about it. She’d been putting off mentioning anything to her husband, but it had reached the point where she was almost sick with worry over what she suspected. As soon as the twins had gone up to their rooms one night to study for their exams, she tackled him. ‘Brian, I know you won’t like what I’m going to say, but I’ve got to say it.’
‘Say what? It sounds really serious.’
‘It is, and I’m surprised you haven’t noticed for yourself.’
Her husband frowned slightly. ‘Noticed what, for goodness’ sake?’
‘Haven’t you seen how Roddy and Dilly look at each other? I’m sure they’re in love.’
His scowl deepened. ‘Are you off your trolley, woman? They’re twins - off course they love each other.’
‘No, I don’t mean that kind of love. I mean proper love - between an ordinary boy and girl who aren’t related.’
She had his full attention now. ‘But they’re …’ He hesitated for a moment before saying, decisively, ‘You’re talking rubbish, Ros. They do love each other, the same way we love them, but it’s not the same kind of love as a man feels for a woman - not like I feel for you.’
He could see that even this made no impression on her and went on, ‘There’s always a special bond between twins; what one thinks, the other one thinks as well, and so on. I’ve heard of twins living in different places - one takes ill, the other one feels the same pains.’
‘You honestly think that’s what it is?’
‘Of course it is. I’ve even read of twins buying the same clothes although they’re living hundreds of miles apart. It’s a kind of built-in bond between them that nobody understands, that they don’t really understand themselves.’
‘You’re sure that’s all it is?’
‘One hundred per cent. Now can we watch this programme in peace?’
She lay obediently back in her armchair, but she couldn’t concentrate on the events in
Coronation Street.
Maybe Brian was right, but she couldn’t believe him - not one hundred per cent.
‘You know, Frank, I’ve been thinking a lot about Roselle and the twins lately. I’m sure something’s not right with them.’ Helen Milne had ample time to think these days, still unable to get around, except to the hospital for check-ups, where her husband took her every two weeks in the people-carrier he’d bought to accommodate the wheelchair.
He was regarding her now with the expression he always wore when she mentioned the Lewises. ‘I’d forget about that family if I were you,’ he told her, firmly. ‘If Roselle had wanted to keep in touch, she’d have given you their new address.’
‘I’m sure Brian must have told her not to.’
‘She’s not scared of him. She’s got more spunk than that. No, make up your mind that she wasn’t as fond of us as we were of her.’
‘I loved them all, and I’m positive that she and the kids were fond of us.’
‘They can’t be kids now, they must be wearing on for thirteen or fourteen.’
Helen gave a loud sniff. ‘Shows how much you notice. They’ll be seventeen on the twenty-fourth.’
His eyes opening in disbelief, her husband shook his head. ‘No, they can’t be.’
‘They will, I tell you, and it’s them I’m really worried about, though I suppose Roselle will be even more worried. There’s something far wrong, I know it.’
‘Look, lass, even if that’s true, there’s nothing you can do about it.’ His tone was much more sympathetic, however. ‘Concentrate on getting your legs strong, and forget about everything else.’
She told herself that she was a stupid old woman for worrying. There was nothing she could do for the Lewis family anyway, and Frank was right - they had made it clear that they didn’t want to stay friends.
Dilly was amazed at how much she minded seeing Roddy setting off for walks with Tracy Little. They looked so right for each other, but they weren’t really, were they? Everybody knew that the girl went out with any boy who asked her, and he deserved better than that. She tried to pick out a girl who might be more acceptable, but gave up in disgust after five minutes. Not one of the girls she knew fitted the bill. They were either not pretty enough, or too pretty; either too smart for their own good, or so dumb they didn’t know right from left; either too rowdy and laddish or quiet wee mice. Roddy wouldn’t be happy with any of them.
Her wandering thoughts turned to picking a suitable boy for herself. Not Malcolm Finnie, that was sure. This search proved as useless as her first. She didn’t fancy any of them. Some were bullies, some were really good-looking but knew it; the ones who had no claim to good looks knew that, and were too self-conscious to be any fun. The only one she would feel comfortable with was … her own brother, and that was taboo.
Determined to banish her jealousy of Tracy Little -she had to admit that it
was
jealousy - she started to ask Roddy where they went on their walks and what they talked about. His bored expression soon told her that he wasn’t as smitten as she’d feared, that he was actually rather bored with the girl.
‘You know, Dill,’ he said at last, ‘All she thinks about is how she looks. “Does my hair look all right, does it suit me? Is my lipstick smudged?” Yeuch!’ He dropped the affected high imitation. ‘I’m beginning to hate the sight of her.’
‘Why don’t you dump her, then?’
‘I don’t like to be nasty. How can I say I don’t fancy her any longer?’
‘Break a few dates, then. That should tell her.’
As it happened, it was Tracy who did the dumping, by doing exactly what Roddy had been told to do - not turning up for a couple of dates.
‘I don’t care,’ he declared to his sister, but she knew his pride had been hurt.
The next few weeks were taken up by revising their various subjects, then came the exams themselves, so it was not until all the stress was off them that they had time to relax and think of other things. On the first day of their freedom, it was unfortunate that their parents had been invited out for the evening, leaving them at a loose end in the empty house. For the first hour, they sat on the settee together as they always did when watching television. Roddy had opened a large packet of crisps which they were sharing until she twitched them away from him. He didn’t know how it happened, but he leaned across her to retrieve them, she laughed up at him, and before they realised it, they were kissing - like lovers.
It was a long kiss that neither of them wanted to end, but at last Roddy pulled himself away. ‘Oh, Lord, Dill, I’m sorry,’ he muttered, shamefacedly. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘It was my fault as much as yours,’ she whispered, ‘and to be honest … I liked it.’
‘Did you? Really?’ He could scarcely believe it.
She gave a naughty little giggle. ‘Would you mind doing it again, so I can be sure?’
It was half an hour later, if not longer, before the kissing stopped, and they looked at each other in dismay. ‘We shouldn’t.’ His whisper was throbbing with emotion. ‘I’m sorry.’
Taking in a deep breath to help her to answer, she murmured, ‘I’m not sorry.’
‘Aren’t you?’ He looked at her face, flushed with passion, and at long last admitted what he should have known some time ago. ‘I love you, Dilly. D’you know that? I really and truly love you with all my heart.’
‘Oh, I’m glad. I thought it was only me.’
‘You mean …’
‘Yes, I love you, too, really and truly with all my heart.’
About to kiss her again, Roddy drew back. ‘We can’t, though. We can’t love each other. It’s against the law for a brother and sister to …’
They regarded each other silently, sadly, shaken by the force of their passion, yet knowing that it could not go on. After a few moments, he stood up. ‘I’m going to bed. So should you.’
Her eyes shot open. ‘To your bed?’
‘My God, no! That would be asking for trouble. If Mum and Dad came in and even saw us like this, they’d know what was going on, but in bed together, God! They’d go ballistic.’
Her gaze held his. ‘I wish we could, though.’
He wisely said nothing else and went out, while Dilly gathered up all the scattered crisps and put them in the kitchen bin before she, too, went upstairs.
Both youngsters got little sleep that night, each thinking of what might have been, but knowing only too well that it could never be.
Chapter Six
Although, like most men, Brian had never been quick to pick up the signs of increasing attraction between two people of the opposite sex - the meaningful glances exchanged, the accidentally-on-purpose touching of hands in the passing -it had not taken long for him to become aware of what was blossoming between his children. The realisation clobbered him like a kick in the gut from a mule as they were getting into his car one morning to go to work. They weren’t even sitting together, Roddy in front with him, Dilly in the back seat, but it was almost as if there was a banner attached to them announcing, ‘We are in love.’
He had tried telling himself that it was pure imagination, but it was even more noticeable on the return journey. His stomach doing all sorts of impossible gymnastics, he did little justice to his meal, and excused his lack of appetite by pleading an excruciating headache.
‘I’ll be better if I get some fresh air,’ he told Roselle rather sharply when she fussed.
His favourite walk was down to the sea, where he often sat and watched the young lads with their little motor boats, but tonight he wanted to be alone to think, so he walked out of the village altogether until he came to the ruins of Slains Castle, practically on the edge of the cliff, an eerie spot even in broad daylight, but ringed at this time of evening by shadowy shapes. Sitting down on a large stone, he wondered what he should do.
Maybe he’d been imagining it; maybe he’d been seeing things - but it wasn’t that. He was sure it wasn’t. The point was, should he tell Roselle or not? It would likely upset her as much as it had upset him, and that was something he didn’t want to do. Should he have a word with Roddy? Sort of warn him about the dangers of getting too fond of his twin? Or would that make things worse? Teenagers didn’t like to be told, and it might make him more determined than ever.
Bending over, holding his head in his hands, Brian knew that something had to be done, but he couldn’t face being the one to do it. Surely, though, the boy must know without being told that it was against the law for a brother and sister to marry, and twins were even more closely related than that … weren’t they?
If only he had noticed before, but it was too late now. If they ran away together, the resulting scandal in the village would be too much for Roselle - she had gone through so much before. It would turn her brain altogether and he couldn’t bear to think of her being hurt any more. He couldn’t take this himself, come to think of it. His carefully planned family, the lovely house, he would lose everything He tinkered now with the idea of jumping off the cliff, ending it. His wouldn’t be the first suicide in this place, and after all, it was his fault, wasn’t it?
Roddy had been working with an internationally important oil firm in Aberdeen for almost a year before a solution to his problem occurred to him. With Dilly also travelling in the car every morning and evening, it was getting more and more difficult for them to keep their feelings for each other in check, and it was growing more obvious that their father was regarding them in a curious way. Their mother, too, seemed to be in a constant state of apprehension, and he decided that it would be better if he moved away from home altogether - pushed temptation well out of his reach. He put out a few feelers in the office to the effect that he wouldn’t mind a transfer to another branch, but said nothing to anyone else, not even his sister.
The daily routine went on as usual for the next few months, and he was thinking of just answering adverts in the press when he was called into the Under Manager’s office - the holy-of-holies, the inside of which was a mystery to most of the staff. At the barked ‘Enter’ to his timid knock, he turned the handle and walked in, trying to recall the opening words he meant to say. He need not have worried about it.
The VIP looked up from the papers before him and said, quite kindly, ‘You’ll be the young fella who wants some promotion?’
‘It’s not that, sir,’ Roddy answered. ‘It’s because I’d like to see a bit more of … Britain.’
‘So it’s not because you hoped to see the world at our expense?’
‘Oh, no, Mr Petersen. I want to learn a bit more about the company and how it’s run.’
‘You’re anxious to take over the running of it, are you?’
But the twinkle in the man’s eyes let the youth know that he was joking. ‘I don’t seem to be doing much here except running errands, sir, and I know I’m capable of more than that.’
‘You think that it’s beneath you?’
‘No, sir …’
Petersen took pity on him at this point. ‘It’s all right. I admire someone with the guts to get on. I grant you that being an office boy is the lowest form of life here and that you must wonder how a firm of this size works. I take it that you feel rather young to go overseas - maybe some time in the future? - but as it happens a vacancy has arisen in our Liverpool office for an assistant in their financial department. You will be given training in all aspects of the job - and will have to satisfy the Head Cashier before you are given the position permanently - so you will have a lot to learn. I trust you are not afraid of hard work?’