Pinprick (6 page)

“So what time do you reckon Mum will be back with Uncle Shane?” Jennifer asked her sister as they walked down a steep narrow pathway through woodland. Angela, now in front, shrugged her shoulders and passed the last of the trees. They stopped in a clearing. A tiny footbridge ran over a little stream, a waist high steel railing at its side for safety, even though the stream was only a few feet wide and a few inches deep. Angela leant on the rail and gazed at the pretty, unimpressive stream.

“I can’t believe you’re actually excited about him coming!”

“Why shouldn’t I be? Jennifer stopped beside her and rested her back against the opposite bar.

“It might as well be the first time I’ve met him for all I can remember. It’s exciting! He’s probably the first member of our family we’re gonna meet that’s actually got something interesting to say and isn’t rambling on about bloody farming and the countryside.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Angela asked, seemingly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just – don’t you ever get fed up with it?”

“With what?”

“With all this?” Jennifer waved a hand at the countryside around them, over the stream that ran through two fields.

“No it’s beautiful. I want to stay here forever,” Angela said solemnly.

“Well I don’t. It’s boring! There’s a huge world out there to see, different cities, cultures, countries. Don’t you ever want to get away, see something new?”

“I’m sure we’ll go away soon, Mum and Dad were only on about it the other week, before…” she couldn’t finish but Jennifer knew she was going to say “before Gran died.”

“Yeah but whenever we go on holiday it’s always to somewhere exactly like here except the people have different accents! I wanna go somewhere where people have different languages!”

“We went to Wales last year!”

Jennifer rolled her eyes.

“That doesn’t count and you know it!”

They stood in silence for a while; Angela thought her sister was ungrateful and selfish. It wasn’t as though their parents were made of money. They had more than enough here. She was happy following in their mum and gran’s footsteps, why wasn’t her sister?

It wasn’t as if Jennifer loathed the village, she just felt like she had outgrown it. There was more to life than being stuck here and ending up married to a local boy and having his babies. She wanted to visit all the places which she read about in her books. She was always in the travel section at the school library, discovering places she would love to see.

“You’re going to be like him, aren’t you?” Angela asked as she started walking again.

“Like who?”

“Uncle Shane?”

“Why, how do you mean?” Jennifer sounded a little guarded even though she quite liked the idea of visiting all the fabulous locations from Uncle Shane’s postcards.

“You’re gonna carry on being the little brainbox bookworm and go to uni and never see us again,” said Angela.

“No, I wouldn’t do that, you’re my sister and I love you. Even if I was the other side of the world I’d write to you or phone you at every opportunity, I swear!”

Angela lightened up a little, “Knowing you you’d forget all about the time differences and wake me up at four in the morning whilst you were having afternoon tea!”

“Ha I wouldn’t forget,” Jennifer laughed. “I’d…”

“Do it on purpose!” Angela and Jennifer said in unison.

As they climbed the narrow path that led up from the stream in the valley’s dip Jennifer glanced over at the golden fields of wheat. They rose up over the hills like the chubby cheeks of a cherubic colossus. Between the cheeks she could make out the sparkle of sunlight on the River Stour. In the distance a tall row of thin trees framed the scene with a spiky fringe.

I guess there are things I would miss about this place
, she thought,
the peace, the chance for solitude whenever I want it and feeling safe
.

Nonetheless, another part of her craved excitement and change.

Chapter Five

August 1990

“Your sister’s in labour but there are some complications.”

The phone receiver felt hot against Shane’s ear and he wondered why some people say things like that. Your sister. He didn’t need reminding she was his sister.

“What’s happened? Is she okay?” Shane said as he turned his back on the other students who loitered in the communal phone area.

“Your mother’s with her now, she’s fine, it’s the twins that aren’t,” his father said solemnly.

Shane breathed a sigh of relief that Catherine was okay and instantly felt guilty for the lack of concern for his unborn nieces or nephews.

“What happened to them?”

His father was silent for what felt like minutes. Shane could hear hospital noises in the background; a telephone ringing, people talking hospital jargon that he didn’t attempt to understand.

“They’re Siamese twins.”

“What?” Shane gasped so loudly the students near him turned to stare at him.

“They’re conjoined boy! They’re literally joined at the hip. Your sister is going in for a caesarean but they don’t know the extent of the twins’ disfigurement.”

“Jesus! But they can do stuff for them, can’t they Dad?”

“What the hell do I know? All I know is they’re alive but they are going to need loads of examining when they’re out.”

Shane was lost for words; this wasn’t a subject he knew much about. He’d read about cases in the past of Siamese twins and how some had been separated, but from the little knowledge he had, he knew separation was often unsuccessful. As Shane hung up he tried his best to push the news aside and focus on his revision.

Exams galore clogged up his every waking moment with studying, fretting and evading the clutches of the Sandman.

He didn’t need this. Why couldn’t things be simpler? He loved his sister dearly and was happy that she was okay but he knew deep down he’d never go back to Brantham. Life was too good here in London and he just didn’t, and wouldn’t, have the time if his career went where he wanted it to. He made a mental note to phone his parents later that day but he forgot.

It wasn’t until halfway through yet another exam that Shane even thought about his sister. As he scribbled away with his black biro, he tried his damndest to ignore the perpetual whistling, but eventually he paused and focused on the little hole in the pen lid. He smirked at a recollection of the time Catherine had taught him how to make little red indentation patterns by pressing the lid’s hole against his skin. Their worrisome mother rushing to the telephone to call the local doctor as she thought he was coming out with some weird allergic reaction. He needed to phone his sister.

The communal phone receiver felt hot against his face with the warmth of the previous user. He dialled the hospital number his parents had given him and listened to the ringing.

It felt like a millennium passed before, finally, someone picked up. It was his father.

“Hey Dad, any news?” Shane asked straight to the point.

“The twins went to the operating theatre an hour ago. They’re going to try and separate them if they can, lucky you caught me I was about to leave.”

“Did they say how long the op would take?”

“Could take up to twelve hours they said. Twelve bloody hours!”

“Did they say what the odds were on it being a success?”

Shane heard as his dad fumbled with something that sounded like paper; knowing his dad it was a list of all the vital information, ready for anyone who might ask him what was happening. He pictured his dad scribbling in his little notebook, word for word, what he’d been told by the hospital.

“They said that it should be pretty easy going as they don’t share any organs, something which is virtually unheard of, but obviously it could still be risky as most of the specialists haven’t done this operation before and there’s a worry about blood loss.” He spoke fast, something he always did when he was worried.

They tried to exchange small talk about his mum and sister but Shane could tell his dad was eager to go, so he promised to phone again twelve hours later.

The twelve hours passed by in flurry of printed political manuscripts, scruffy spidery handwriting and copious amounts of black sweet tea.

Eventually, Shane sat up from his work and peered through weary eyes at the clock above his desk. It was almost midnight and he knew that if his parents were at home that they would be going to bed any time now. He packed up his paperwork for the night and left his room.

There weren’t many people in the communal area now, just one or two drunken revellers back from a night out.

He dialled his parents’ number and waited. A girl hobbled past with a pair of red stilettoes hanging from one hand. He let it ring twenty times to make sure that if his folks were at home they had time to wake up and get it. Which meant either that they were travelling from the hospital or still there. Shane reluctantly hung up the receiver and went back to his room.

He tried to sleep but couldn’t stop thinking about his sister. Her career had been completely destroyed now, that much he was certain. That traditional, country cunt Jack would see to it. There was no way he could imagine the farmer boy staying at home with the kids, it was unheard of.

That’s if they’ve made it through
, he thought. Shane felt a deep pang of shame and guilt when he realised part of him thought it would be for the best. That wasn’t really what he wanted, was it? All he hoped was that his sister would be happy and have no regrets.

Was it heartless that he didn’t really feel anything for babies that might or might not survive? He traced a finger down the sickle scar on his head, an annoying habit he’d adopted after his accident. The scar tissue was raised slightly and smooth to the touch. He kept his head shaved on the lowest of grades since the accident and lost the Mohican out of sheer laziness. University had tamed his whole punk image and all he really had time for were his studies. He felt slightly hypocritical when it came to his opinions over how his sister was changing.

Eventually, sleep draped its satin veil over his consciousness.

*

A heart shaped distortion, fleshy and pink, came to focus in his dream. As it cleared, it formed the figures of two newborn babies. Everything about them appeared normal; they had their arms around each other’s shoulders like a couple of best friends sharing a secret. The babies were girls. At the pelvis they were fused together like they had tried to melt into one. They were beautiful. Perfect.

Then there was a sea of green operating sheets. Surgical equipment. People in masks with scalpels and eager eyes. Catherine, Jack and his parents were all wearing hospital overalls, their wide, horrified eyes staring at him.

A tiny exposed square cut open in the green sheets revealed the two tiny torsos of the babies. He moved close to the table and noticed a scalpel in his hand. A petite female surgeon standing opposite fixed him with a stare and nodded encouragingly for him to proceed. As Shane’s hand lowered toward the skin he caught his reflection in the blade and was surprised to see he had his green mohican back. He felt the scalpel press against the skin, droplets of blood grew along each side of the blade as a squeal of such high capacity seared through his skull so that his vision went white and he dropped to his knees.

His hands were covered in blood. His sister screamed hysterically in the arms of his mother and Jack. His father glared at him with pure hatred, his index finger pointing accusingly like a loaded weapon. Surgeons were running frantically backwards and forwards with fistfuls of bloodied gauze. Shane fell to the floor, and watched horror-struck as a small crowd circled around him, casting him into shadow. The parents of his lost friends towered above him, spat in his face and chanted.

“Murderer! Murderer!”

His father’s voice boomed over everything.

“This is all your fault! If only you could remember what happened!”

The crowd closed in. Light flashed off the scalpels they were thrusting at him.

*

Shane woke with a start; a sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He rubbed his hands over his face and with that the last embers of his nightmare blew away. Daylight crept from above the curtains and lit up the clock on the wall. It was half past seven and he knew his parents would have had their breakfast by now. He pulled on yesterday’s jeans and t-shirt and then made for the telephone.

His mother answered in her usual put on posh phone voice.

“Good morning.”

Shane cleared his throat stifled a yawn.

“Hey Mum, its Shane.”

“Oh it’s you. How were your exams? Have you tried phoning before? Was it last night? Oh what a night we’ve had! We didn’t get home until almost two thirty, can you believe it?”

Shane opened his mouth to answer–

“I’ve still not done my hair or dressed for the day, your father’s gone to the shop for bread as we haven’t even had a chance to get a bite of food. I think we’ll just have to make sandwiches to take with us.”

As ever Shane’s mum was doing that uncanny thing that takes a certain type of person to achieve; talking excessively without to pausing for breath. Her other talent was her ability to quick fire questions at people and either answer them herself or just not wait for an answer at all. It was okay. He was used to it.

“As for Jack and Catherine, well, as you can imagine they’re exhausted the poor things, hardly any sleep. Now, you’ll want to know about the twins, I dare say. They’re okay, they’re alright. The doctors have done a wonderful job but it took a very long time. It was touch and go for a bit as they both lost a lot of blood but now they look lovely. They say, because they are babies it won’t take them long to mend and then the only way you’d ever know they were joined will be a scar down their sides.

“I’m sure when you speak to Catherine and Jack they’ll fill you in on the more technical details, but as for now the operation was a success and you’ve two healthy nieces called Angela and Jennifer! Oh Shane, they’re beautiful!”

Shane had listened breathed a sigh of relief that everyone was okay.

“That’s brilliant mum, brilliant!”

“Isn’t it just? Will you phone your sister soon? Today? When are you coming home?” His mum actually stopped to wait for him to answer.

“Well I’ve got a lot on this week with exams and…” he began, but he obviously took too long to answer because his mum interrupted.

“I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go, your father’s back. Phone your sister. Got to go. Love you. Bye.” She hung up before he had a chance to say anything else.

July 2006

Shane had been in the house for an hour with Catherine before anyone else showed up. He sat at the kitchen table nursing a mug of black coffee as Catherine whizzed around in a fashion reminiscent of their mother.

A blur of pots and pans clanging and a tattoo of chopped vegetables cut out most of the awkward silence. Shane’s head jolted up with a nervous start when the back door opened.

It was Angela and Jennifer. He flashed his best smile and stood to greet them.

My God they’ve grown
he thought with a mixture of surprise and guilt. They were twice as tall as the last time he saw them. He was startled at how much more they resembled Catherine, it was like seeing a before and after image of his sister when she was younger.

One of the girls wore a floral dress, like the kind of plain clothes that Catherine started wearing after meeting Jack, while the other wore more modern, slightly alternative clothing as his sister did before Jack, when she still had her own personality.

“Girls!” He moved towards them open armed, “it’s so good to see you both.” He leaned forward to kiss the cheek of the girl in the dress and knew he had to get this right.

“Angela!” He stepped back to look at her and hopefully gain verification that he’d guessed the right twin.

“Hello Uncle Shane,” Angela nodded once and blushed.

A weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he performed the same ritual again albeit with a bit more confidence.

“Jennifer!”

“It’s just Jen,” Jennifer boldly stated and gave such a genuinely happy smile it almost shocked him. What she did next certainly did. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“It’s great to see you again Uncle Shane!” she tiptoed and kissed his cheek. As the girls went to the sink to wash their hands, Catherine frowned at her daughter’s overly affectionate greeting. She hardly knew him and here she was hugging him like a long lost friend. Shane shrugged and smiled awkwardly as he sat back down to his coffee.

*

It had been months since Jennifer had a chance to go back up to the attic. Having your twin shadowing you all the time meant it was hard to get any alone time. She wondered if other twins longed for solitude like she did or whether she was a freak or even just selfish.

Strange things were happening to her body and brain and, even though she was sure Angela was experiencing the same feelings, she didn’t want to experience them with her. There were things she couldn’t share with anyone. All of her friends were also Angela’s friends.