Twin Tales

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘I don’t want it any deeper!’ Connie yelled.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake! You’re not scared of the bath now, are you? This is ridiculous, Connie. You’re not a baby.You’ve got to conquer this stupid fear or you’ll end up completely loopy – and you’ll drive us all daft as well. Aaaaah!’

  It was Dad who sounded daft, screeching like that. He’d concentrated too much on Connie and not enough on his shaving.

  Connie hunched up in her shallow bath, twisting her little plait and twiddling the blue beads for all she was worth.

  ‘What’s going on? Are you all right?’ said Mum, putting her head round the door.

  ‘No, I’m not! I’ve cut myself,’ said Dad, trying to staunch the wound with a little wad of toilet paper.

  ‘Well, hurry up out the way and let Connie clean her teeth in the basin. I’ve just noticed a ring round the date on the calendar downstairs. Connie’s got to go to the dentist for her check-up. It’s a nine o’clock appointment – so you’ll have to step on it. You can both have breakfast afterwards,’ said Mum.

  ‘What? What are you on about? I can’t take Connie to the dentist. I’ve got to go to work.’

  ‘I’m sorry, you’ll just have to be late for work for once. I can’t possibly take Connie in time.’

  ‘But you know I can’t . . .’ said Dad, looking strange.

  Mum sighed. ‘Look, I’d normally take Connie, you know that. But she simply can’t miss her appointment. Not like some people.’ Mum sounded a bit strange too.

  Dad still acted strange as he was driving Connie to the dentist. His hands were all shaky as he clutched the wheel of the car, as if he was very cold – and yet he had little beads of sweat on his forehead. His face twitched every now and then, and the little wad of toilet paper stuck to his shaving cut twitched too.

  ‘Dad, are you all right?’ said Connie.

  ‘Yes, of course I am,’ said Dad. But his voice was all high and wavery – almost as if he was scared.

  ‘You’ve still got toilet paper stuck to your face, Dad,’ said Connie, as they drew up outside the dental surgery.

  Dad swatted it away from his chin. He switched off the ignition. He gave Connie a very weird wild smile.

  ‘Off you go then, Connie. I’ll just wait for you in the car,’ he said.

  Connie stared at Dad. ‘But you have to come in too, Dad. You have to sign all the forms and stuff.’

  ‘Oh dear. Right.’

  He seemed to have great difficulty getting out of the car. He wavered all over the place going up the pathway to the surgery door.

  ‘I think you might have really hurt yourself shaving. Maybe you’vegot tetanus or something, from the cut?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Connie,’ Dad murmured, and then he staggered into the surgery.

  Connie followed him and looked round in astonishment. It seemed to have changed a great deal since she was last there six months ago. The waiting-room was terribly cold and all the pictures were missing from the walls. All the magazines and toys had been cleared away. There were just horrible leaflets with pictures of people with bleeding mouths and crumbling teeth.

  Connie was great friends with the pretty young receptionist – but she didn’t seem to be around today. There was a fierce frowny woman in her place in a crackly white uniform, wearing a mask and rubber gloves.

  She pointed straight at Dad.

  ‘Aha! You’re the man who’s missed all his appointments!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Dad said – and then a terrible, achingly loud drilling sound started up in the next room. It was so ear-splitting that the wall vibrated and Connie was jiggled up and down. Dad threw himself to the floor, his hands over his mouth, and whimpered. Then the drill suddenly stopped and they heard footsteps outside.

  Someone burst into the waiting- room, a huge terrifying white figure in cap and gown. He was holding huge steel pointed instruments in either hand and was chuckling manically behind his white mask.

  Dad took one look at him and shrieked.

  But Connie smiled. ‘What’s up, Dad? You’re not scared of the dentist, are you? This is ridiculous. You’re not a baby. You’ve got to conquer this stupid fear or you’ll end up completely loopy! There’s nothing at all to be scared of.’

  ‘Of course there’s nothing to be scared of, Connie,’ said the dentist – and he shrank back to his usual jolly self. His terrifying steel instruments vanished, happy music played in the prettily decorated waiting-room, and the young receptionist waved at Connie.

  ‘Hi there, Connie. Are you here for your six-monthly examination?’ She looked at Dad, who was standing up sheepishly. ‘Goodness! You’ve brought your dad with you today. It’s a very long time since we’ve seen you. Would you like an appointment too?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Dad said. ‘I tell you what. I’ll have my teeth examined if Connie stands beside me and holds my hand tight!’

  8. Mermaid Magic

  ‘Connie, your hair’s getting to look like a little floor mop!’ said Mum, ruffling Connie’s unruly hair. ‘I must wash it for you tonight.’

  ‘Oh no, Mum!’ said Connie, shaking her head vigorously.

  Mum looked really worried. ‘Oh, Connie – this being fussed about water is getting right out of hand. You’ve got to have your hair washed, darling.’

  ‘I’m not scared, Mum,’ said Connie. ‘I just don’t want to lose my little plait with the blue glass beads.’

  ‘Oh, the one Nurse Meade did for you. Yes, it does look cute. Well, I’ll have a go at plaiting your hair after I’ve washed it, though I don’t know how Nurse Meade twiddles those little beads into place.’

  ‘They twiddle in a very special way, Mum,’ said Connie. ‘Let me keep my hair like this a bit longer, please!’

  Mum got as far as fetching the shampoo – but then Charles spat out his dummy and started crying hard. By the time both twins were fast asleep Mum flopped into her armchair and watched the television, too tired to start shampooing. Connie skipped off to bed that night with her plait still in place, the blue beads gently jingling.

  She fingered her plait fondly as she cuddled down to sleep – and when she started dreaming she chinked the two blue beads together so that they sparked bright blue in the dark of Connie’s bedroom.

  The blue seeped into Connie’s dreams. She found herself floundering in a vast pool of water. It was dragging her down, right underneath, and she was choking and struggling – but then someone caught hold of her round her waist and lifted her up and out of the water, her head bursting free into sudden sunlight. She wasn’t in a pool at all, she was at a strange new seaside, with the blue waves sparkling in the sunlight.

  Connie rose up out of the waves, through the waves, on to the waves, skimming along their surface as if she were riding a surfboard. The hands were still around her waist, holding her gently but firmly, steering her along, swooping her up on the crest of each wave, foam dancing about her ankles.

  It was someone who looked surprisingly familiar, black beaded plaits flying in the breeze, all the glass beads as sparkling blue as the sea itself. This someone wasn’t wearing a blue uniform. She wasn’t wearing any sort of dress at all, and from her waist downwards she was all shimmering tail, flickering gracefully as they leapt in and out of the water.

  ‘You’re a mermaid!’ said Connie.

  She looked down at her own legs again, wondering if she’d turned into a mermaid too. No, her two legs were still there, sometimes leaping right out of the water with neat pointed toes, other times kicking purposefully through the waves.

  ‘I’m swimming!’ said Connie.

  The mermaid laughed, and a whole school of dolphins with smiley faces whistled and squeaked in a friendly way at Connie. They all skimmed the surface of the sea together and then dived downwards, disappearing.

  ‘Oh, come back, little dolphins!’ cried Connie. ‘Where have you gone?’

  She tried to peer through the water beneath her. She saw strange flowers and coral roc
ks and stripy fish and her new dolphin friends playing follow-my-leader.

  ‘Can we go down there too?’ Connie said.

  The mermaid smiled again and then Connie found herself diving down through the water into a new brighter, bluer world and she could breathe easily and swim almost as fast as the dolphins and she chased them all around the sea garden until she was tired, and then she sat on a rock with the mermaid, who combed her hair with a mother-of-pearl comb and then plaited it and started to fix the two blue beads back into place – but they slipped from her fingers and spiralled downwards through the blue sea, down and down into the dark . . .

  And then Connie woke up, and it was light and morning. She put her hands on to her hair. It was wet – as if she’d really been swimming in the sea. She felt for her plait, but it was just a little tangled lock, fast unravelling. The blue beads were gone.

  Connie lay quietly, thinking about her dream. She thought about swimming. Somehow it didn’t seem quite such a scary idea now.

  She jumped out of bed and ran into her parents’ room.

  ‘Hey, Mum, Dad! It’s Sunday. Are you going swimming with the twins?’

  ‘I think I’ll give it a miss today,’ Mum mumbled sleepily from under the duvet. ‘They both woke up in the night and needed feeding. We’re all too tired this morning.’

  ‘I’m not a bit tired. And I’d like to go swimming. Will you take me, Dad? Please?’

  ‘You want to go swimming, Connie?’ said Dad, sitting bolt upright.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘But . . .’ said Dad. ‘I thought . . .’

  ‘Just take her!’ Mum mumbled.

  So Dad stumbled out of bed and took Connie swimming. Connie wasn’t quite so sure this was a good idea when they went into the swimming-baths. She hesitated at the door, her lip trembling.

  Dad didn’t say anything at all – but he gave her a quick hug.

  Connie knew he’d take her straight home if that was what she really wanted. But she wanted to swim. So she’d jolly well have to give it a go, even if she was scared after all. Very, very scared.

  She stomped off into the ladies’ changing-room, wishing like anything that she still had her blue beads to twiddle. And there right in front of her was a flash of blue! It was NurseMeade, in a bright blue swimming costume to match her magic beads.

  ‘Hey there, Connie!’ she called.

  ‘Nurse Meade!’ said Connie. ‘Oh, how super! Have you come for a swim?’

  ‘I thought it seemed a good idea,’ said Nurse Meade. ‘So you’ve come for a swim too, Connie?’

  ‘Yes. I thought it seemed a good idea too,’ said Connie, hurriedly changing into her swimming costume.

  The dolphin on the front was smiling all over his face.

  ‘He’s OK,’ said Connie, tickling him under his chin. ‘He knows how to swim.’

  ‘I’ll show you how to swim if you like, Connie,’ said Nurse Meade, taking her hand.

  They were out of the changing- rooms before Dad. The little learner pool was still being used for the babies.

  ‘I guess it’s the big pool,’ said Connie, and she hung back a little.

  ‘Getting in is the worst bit,’ said Nurse Meade. ‘Let’s keep holding hands as we go down the steps.’

  They did just that – and somehow it wasn’t quite so bad, even when the water was lapping right up around Connie’s neck.

  ‘I’ll take you for a little swim shall I?’ said Nurse Meade.

  She held Connie gently but firmly round her waist and pulled her along through the water. Connie held her head up high and let her feet waft up off the bottom of the pool.

  ‘Kick those feet a little,’ said Nurse Meade.

  Connie kicked.

  ‘And paddle your hands through the water,’ said Nurse Meade.

  Connie paddled.

  ‘There! You’re swimming!’

  ‘Only sort of,’ Connie gasped.

  The water washed over her chin and splashed her face but even that wasn’t so bad now. Nurse Meade showed her how to dip her face right into the water and blow bubbles just like a little fish. Connie dipped and blew. Soon she dared bend her knees and duck right down. She didn’t mind a bit. She wasn’t scared any more!

  Dad was sitting on the side of the pool, staring.

  ‘Watch me, Dad,’ Connie called. ‘Let’s do some more swimming, Nurse Meade.’

  Nurse Meade pulled her carefully along while Connie paddled with her hands and kicked with her feet. Once the water splashed right up so that she spluttered, but she blew bubbles through it and went on paddling and kicking.

  ‘Shall I let go just for a second?’ said Nurse Meade.

  Connie thought about it – and then nodded.

  ‘Keep swimming, Connie,’ said Nurse Meade, taking her hands away.

  So Connie paddled and kicked as hard as she could – and for two whole strokes she was swimming all by herself. Then Nurse Meade clasped her round the waist again, keeping her safe.

  ‘Well done, Connie!’ she said.

  ‘Well done, Connie!’ said Dad, jumping into the water, absolutely thrilled.

  ‘I can swim. I can really swim! Hey, let’s go swimming every single Sunday, Dad, and then I’ll be able to swim a whole length by the time we go swimming with the school,’ said Connie.

  ‘Will you come too, Nurse Meade?’

  ‘Maybe once or twice,’ said Nurse Meade.

  She smiled at Connie and Connie smiled back. When they were getting dressed after their swim, Nurse Meade pulled on shiny green leggings and pointy green pearlised boots. It looked almost as if she had a real mermaid’s tail . . .