Garnet squashed me into a little ball and then dropped me on the kitchen floor.
‘No,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘No. I can’t.’
‘What do you mean? We can we can we can. Yes, all right, it’s going to be difficult getting to London by nine o’clock. We’ll have to get up ever so early. Rose will have to look after the shop herself while Dad drives us. Still, that’ll be fun.’
‘No.’
‘Yes. Now, we’re going to have to work mega-fast preparing our audition number. Get the book, quick, and we’ll learn one of the scenes.’
‘Ruby, I can’t. I can’t act for toffee, you know I can’t.’
‘Look, it’ll be fine. I promise you won’t wet yourself this time.’
‘Stop it. It’s not funny. I don’t want to be in showbiz. Look, you go if you want, but I’m not.’
‘Oh ha ha, very helpful. How can I audition as a twin by myself, eh? Take one of the little dough twins along with me? Don’t be such a dope. Now, where’s the book, we’ve got to get cracking. Which twin is which? I’ll be the one that says the most. We’ll work it so you don’t have to say hardly anything, OK?’
‘No, Ruby, please, please.’ Garnet started scrabbling at me, getting dough all over my jumper.
‘We can’t miss out on this, Garnet. It’s our big chance. We’ve got to go for it.’
‘But it says lively. I’m not a bit lively. I don’t jump about like you, I just sort of flop in a corner. And I’m not outgoing. I’m as inwardbeing as you could possibly get.’
‘You’ll be OK. Just copy me.’
Why do I always have to copy Ruby?
I can’t act.
I don’t want to act.
I can’t go to an audition in London! I can’t say a lot of stuff with everyone watching. It’ll be even worse than being a sheep. Why won’t Ruby understand? She won’t listen to me. She’s riffling through The Twins at St Clare’s right this minute, trying to choose which bit we’ll act out.
Only I’m not going to act.
I can’t can’t can’t act.
Remember what Gran says? There’s no such word as can’t! Now stop scribbling and start spouting. We’ve got to be word-perfect by Monday!
It’s OK! I don’t have to act after all. Dad won’t let us.
I can’t believe he could be so Mega-Mean. He doesn’t seem to see this is our one big chance, tailor-made for us. He won’t even take it seriously.
‘Don’t be daft, Ruby. As if I’m going to drive you all the way to London at the crack of dawn on Monday! And I don’t want you and Garnet involved in any acting caper while you’re still children. I can’t stick those simpering stage-school kiddiewinks. You’re already enough of a show-off as it is.’
What a CHEEK! He can’t be bothered to help us achieve our all-time ambition
Your ambition
and yet look what we’ve had to do for him. We’ve had to leave Gran and all our friends and our old school and come and live in this horrible dusty old dump in the middle of the boring bleak rainy old country which is all mud and sheep and nothing else and he says we’ve got to have old Rosy Ratbag as our mother.
Stepmother. And Rose said she didn’t fancy herself as a stepmother anyway, and she didn’t want us to feel she was forever trying to slip us poisoned apples. She said she just wanted to be our friend.
Well, we don’t ever ever ever want to be friends with her. Do we? Do we, Garnet?
I suppose not. No. But she’s not really as bad as all that. And she said she didn’t see why we couldn’t go to the audition. She said she thought we’d walk away with the parts. She told Dad not to be so stuffy. She said she’d even get up early on Monday and drive us in the van.
Yes, but she didn’t really mean it. She knew Dad would put his foot down and say no.
Still, she did stick up for us.
Look, what is this, the Rosy Ratbag Appreciation Society? You’ll be writing a fanzine about her next.
Save your appreciation for us.
Only we’re not going to be in The Twins at St Clare’s.
Oh yes we are.
Dad won’t let us. He won’t ever change his mind. He’s like you. He won’t take us.
I know he won’t take us. So we’ll take ourself.
What???
I’ll fix it. We can’t miss this chance. Come on, Garnet. Twin-grin. Smile.
Ruby won’t be able to fix it – will she???
I DID FIX IT!!!
I prodded my brainbox into action and charged out on Saturday afternoon to arrange things. I phoned the station to check on train times.
I went into the video shop and ordered the taxi for quarter past five on Monday morning. Mr Baines the video man is also the taxi man. And he’s also a nosy old git who wanted to know why we were going to the station to catch the early train. I spun him this tale about it being Gran’s birthday. He seemed to take it for granted that Dad was going to be visiting her too.
Then I went to the nearest antique shop and tried to sell my silver locket and my wristwatch and a dopey old china baby doll that Gran gave me. I never liked it even when I was little. Garnet played with mine as well as hers. But the doll was mine. And the locket and the watch. But the antique shop lady wouldn’t buy them. She said I had to have Mummy or Daddy with me.
Well, I haven’t got a mummy. Or much of a dad.
I tried the next antique shop. No go. And the last one. Useless.
But did I give up? Nope. I went to the car-boot sale in the field by the river on Sunday morning. No-one was very interested in my chain and my watch but I saw them get excited about the doll, even though they tried to act like they couldn’t be bothered. They offered me a fiver like they were doing me a favour. I’m not daft. I asked for fifty. Of course they didn’t give me fifty. But they gave me twenty.
Which wasn’t going to be enough for the taxi and the train fare, even with all our savings in our piggybank, so when my alarm went off at four in the morning I sneaked downstairs while Garnet was still asleep and pinched a note or two out the till. It isn’t really stealing if it’s your own family, is it? If you’re going to pay them back anyway? Well, all right, it is – but I had to.
Then I went and woke Garnet and we bumbled about in the dark getting ready, in our best clothes and then we crept downstairs and snaffled some biscuits for breakfast and then stood outside the front door waiting for Mr Baines so that he wouldn’t ring the bell and wake Dad or Rosy Ratbag. They were still fast asleep. I checked.
Mr Baines was ten minutes late so I was in a bit of a tizzy in case we were going to miss the train, and then he held things up by asking where Dad was, and he’s got this incredibly loud voice and I was sure he was going to wake everyone up. But I rose to the occasion. I spun him this story about Dad having a tummy bug and being unable to travel, but Gran was so disappointed when he rang her that he promised to send us on our own.
‘Two little girls like you?’ said Mr Baines doubtfully, but I showed him my bulging purse and told him Gran was meeting us off the train, so he shrugged and said OK.
Garnet didn’t say a word. She still seemed half-asleep. Then she went green in the taxi. I’m the one who gets travel-sick, but I was perfectly OK. I even remembered to give Mr Baines a tip, thought I didn’t think he really deserved it, being late and asking hundreds of questions all the way.
I bought the tickets for the train. Garnet wasn’t with me. She was being sick behind a hedge. I was worried she might muck up her best jacket. You can’t audition attractively with vomit all down your front. But she was quite neat about it, though she looked greener than ever when she came back. Still, our jackets are green, so at least she matched.
She was all shivery, even on the train. I made her rehearse a bit and she got even more trembly and tearful.
‘Don’t you dare cry,’ I said. ‘You don’t want to be all red-eyed and bleary at the audition.’
She did cry a bit even so, but I
mopped her up in the ladies loo.
‘You’re not going to let me down, are you, Garnet?’ I said very fiercely.
Sometimes you’ve got to be fierce to get what you want. But even I felt a bit timid when we got off the train because it was all so big and busy and we didn’t know where to go and we asked someone where Newlake Street was and they’d never even heard of it, and I said we’d get a tube but we didn’t know which tube, or where, and we went down the escalator and then back up the escalator and then I saw a taxi sign and we still had some money in our purse so we took a taxi.
It turned out we didn’t have quite enough money after all. The taxi driver got a bit narked.
But I wasn’t bothered about that. I was bothered about something else. I got out of the taxi and Garnet staggered out after me. And we stared. And hundreds of eyes stared back at us. Twin eyes. Twin after twin after twin after twin.
NINE
IT WAS SO weird seeing so many twins. Ruby and I have seen identical twins before, obviously, but never hundreds of pairs. It was as if the whole world had split into two. I felt as if I was splitting too. We’ve always felt so different. Unique. Special. It’s what made us us. But standing there in that street we were just part of the crowd. Totally ordinary. With nothing at all to make us stand out.
‘Let’s go back home,’ I said to Ruby. ‘Look at them all. We don’t stand a chance.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ said Ruby furiously. ‘I keep telling and telling and telling you, this is our big chance. We’re not giving up now. We’ll show them all. We’ll act better than any of them.’
‘But I can’t act at all, Ruby.’
She just gave me this terrible look, took hold of my arm, and marched me to the end of the very long queue.
We passed big twins
little twins
pretty twins
plain twins
showy twins
shabby twins
girly-girly twins
tomboy twins
even real boy twins.
‘They obviously haven’t even read the book!’ said Ruby dismissively. ‘Unless they’re going to put on frocks and wigs and play the parts in drag.’
‘But look at some of the others. The ones with the big smiles and loud voices. I bet they’ve been to acting school,’ I said.
‘Well, so what. I’ve done my best to school you in acting. Now come on, let’s go over our parts.’
‘Not out here, in front of everyone,’ I said, agonized.
‘Look, you’re the one who needs heaps of practice, not me,’ said Ruby. Then she pulled me close and muttered in my ear, ‘We’ll just do it in whispers, OK? And I’ve been thinking – we’ll have to inject a little ooomph into our act to make us stand out in front of all these others. So we’ll still do the scene with the twins having a battle with Mam’zelle, but we’ll act Mam’zelle too. Don’t look so scared, I’ll do her. I am good at doing zee French accent, ma cherie, oh la la, très bon.’
But it turned out we didn’t get a chance to do any of our act. We had to wait hours and hours in the queue and I was desperate to go to the loo so when we did eventually get inside the building I had to walk around with my legs crossed and we had to give our names and addresses and date of birth and school to this lady at a desk and then we went upstairs and I was scared I might really wet myself and it would be the sheep situation all over again only worse but there were toilets along the corridor and a big cloakroom where you were supposed to change only we didn’t have anything to change into, ’cos we were wearing it. But Ruby pinched my cheeks to give me a bit more colour and I tidied our hair although my hands were trembling so I could barely tie a knot and then we got into another queue, waiting to get into the actual audition room.
It got scarier and scarier and I had to dash back to the loo once or twice and even Ruby got a bit fidgety and she kept staring round at all the other twins. They were rehearsing their routines and they all seemed so brilliant that Ruby started to frown and bite her nails.
‘I didn’t figure we might have to dance,’ she mumbled. ‘They don’t do any dancing in the story do they? Although maybe they’re turning it into a musical version? So if we’re asked, we’ll sing . . . er . . . not a pop song, they’ll all do that. We could do “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” with hand gestures.’
‘I’m not singing, especially not with gestures!’ I said. ‘You know we can’t sing in tune, either of us.’
‘Well, we could just sort of say the words, with lots of expression,’ said Ruby relentlessly. ‘And if we have to dance well . . . we’ll just have to jump and jiggle a bit. Improvise. You copy me, OK?’
This was so obviously not OK that I didn’t even bother to protest.
‘We could work on a routine now, you know,’ said Ruby, hopping and skipping and kicking out one leg.
She kicked a little too enthusiastically, and there was an argument with the twins in front of us.
They were dressed up in wonderfully old-fashioned school uniform – gymslips and baggy blouses and lisle stockings and strappy shoes. One of the lisle stockings had a little ladder now where it had connected with Ruby’s kick, and the mother of the laddered-lisle was very cross indeed.
‘Look, it was an accident – anyway, it just adds to her general schoolgirl . . . authenticity,’ said Ruby, pronouncing this big word with pride.
The mother didn’t seem convinced, and the schoolgirl twins were still getting all shirty too, but then they were called into the audition room so they rushed off in a fluster.
‘Us next,’ said Ruby. She took hold of me by the shoulders. ‘We’re going to do great, Garnet. Better than any of this dopey stupid showy-offy lot. You and me. Ruby and Garnet. We’ll act it all out and it won’t be scary at all, it’ll just be like us playing in private at home. Trust me.’
I tried. And then it was our turn. And it wasn’t at all like playing in private. We were shown on to this stage and there were lots of people watching us and a camera filming us and I was so frightened I nearly fell over. Ruby grabbed me by the hand and hissed ‘Twin-grin’ and marched us into the middle of the stage.
‘Hi, twins,’ said this woman with short hair and a smock.
‘Hi there,’ said Ruby, imitating her voice, trying to sound all cool and casual, though I could see little beads of sweat on her forehead.
She nudged me, and I squeaked ‘Hi’ too.
‘We’ve got our audition piece all prepared,’ Ruby said brightly, trying to show them we were dead professional. ‘I’m Pat and she’s Isabel and I’m also Mam’zelle and at the end I’m Janet as well.’
They all laughed, for some reason. I blushed, because I was scared they thought Ruby was silly, but Ruby didn’t seem to mind. She laughed too.
‘We’d love to see your little number some time, twins, but right now we just want to test out your voices,’ said the woman with the short hair. ‘Sooo – twin number one. Tell me what you had to eat yesterday.’
Ruby blinked at her. But then she threw back her hair, put her hand on one hip, and got started.
‘OK, you want to know what I had to eat yesterday. Well, breakfast was boring old muesli again. Garnet and I used to have Coco Pops and jam sandwiches and they were yummy, but now we have this awful woman living with us, our dad’s girlfriend, and she’s into health foods so it’s bye-bye Coco Pops, hello muesli – all this oat and bran that makes your face ache munching and then there are these little raisins like rabbit droppings, yuck.’
They were all laughing again, but this time even I could see that this was good. They loved Ruby.
‘Right, now, twin two, tell us what you had for lunch,’ said the woman with short hair.
They stopped looking at Ruby. They looked at me. And Ruby looked at me too. Desperately. Terrified I was going to let us down.
I tried to pretend to myself that I wasn’t shy stupid scaredy-cat Garnet. I made out I was Ruby. I threw back my hair. I put my hand on my hip. I opened m
y mouth to start.
I had it all worked out what I was going to do. I was going to tell about Rose’s garlic crumble and how it not only tasted absolutely disgusting, but people ducked and dodged for days afterwards whenever we breathed in their direction and we’d worn out six toothbrushes already trying to take the taste away. I could be funny too if I really tried. I could be just as good as Ruby. I could.
But then someone came bursting through the door and stood there, staring. Dad!
And I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t.
He didn’t say anything to stop me.
But he didn’t need to. I couldn’t get started, not in front of him. I opened my mouth – but nothing came out. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t even squeak.
‘Come on, Garnet,’ said Ruby.
I gulped, I opened my mouth, I tried. But all I managed was a goldfish impersonation.
‘Look, I’ll say what we had for lunch,’ said Ruby.
‘No, sweetie, we’ve already heard you. We want your twin to talk now. Let’s skip lunch. And tea and supper. What time did you go to bed, twin two?’
I saw Ruby flash her eyes at me. I knew she was willing me to tell a funny story about our bed-delaying tactics, our constant unnecessary trips to the bathroom, our midnight raids on the fridge, our frequent nocturnal ramblings – all deliberately done to unnerve Dad and Rose, so that they could never totally relax into unwedded bliss.
I could tell it, but not in front of Dad.
So, after several centuries had gone by and I actually saw the short-haired woman glance at her watch, I started a stupid mumble about ‘Well, we’re supposed to start getting ready for bed at nine, ten at weekends, but we often try to stay up.’
My voice was this sad expressionless little squeak. I saw Ruby close her eyes in agony. I saw Dad hang his head. I saw the short-haired woman and all her colleagues shaking their heads. I saw it all and I shrank down to mouse-size to match my squeak.
Double Act Page 5