CHAPTER ONE
Growing up on the outskirts of a large town, with the whole world ahead of them, was a wonderful start to life for Aeona Outram and her twin brother, Christopher.
Every morning, their loving father, Thomas, would kiss them goodbye, get into his car, and reverse out of the drive. He always made sure never to leave until the pair had run to the living room window to blow kisses and scream goodbye.
It was a cold September morning, and the big day had arrived: a new school year and the first day of school after the summer holidays. Aeona and Chris had their cereal and dropped their plates in the sink. Their mother, Anwen, laughed and then bolted out of the kitchen, shouting, “Last one up is a stinky duck!” and bounded up the stairs three steps at a time, with the two children close behind. Christopher slammed into his sister, causing her to ricochet off the wall to gain ground.
“Cheater! Cheater!” she protested, trying to grab his leg. “Not fair! Not fair!”
By the time she got to the bedroom, he was already rejoicing on the bed, pillow in his hand, ready to defend himself.
“Stinky duck, Aeona! Stinky duck, Aeona!” he teased.
“Mum, he cheated! He pushed me! He pushed me! That’s not fair! It doesn’t count!”
His mother gently scolded him to get off the bed before telling him to apologise to his sister and give her a kiss and hug. She tried to make them bond as closely as possible and wouldn’t tolerate any bickering about silliness. They always had disagreements, like all siblings do, but Aeona loved her brother very much. It was clear to all that when friends visited with their children for a cup of coffee or a chat,
Aeona always stuck up for him. “It’s his turn!” or “He had it first!” She would always stand her ground and defend him.
“I won! I won! I never pushed you! You liar!” he called back.
“Chris, it’s not nice!” his mother jumped in. “You two shouldn’t fight; you need to look after one another,” she said, giving him her stern face. “What am I always telling you?”
“Sorry, Mum,” he said, quickly jumping off the bed into his sister’s arms. “Not sorry, Aeona,” he whispered, kissing her cheek.
Trying not to laugh, Anwen forced a frown, placing her hands on her hips. “I asked…” she repeated, “What am I always telling you?”
The two stood to attention like two little angels next to each other.
“You always say… Mummy and Daddy are not going to be around forever,” they chanted by rote,
“so you must take care of each other, no matter what!”
Their smiles were enough to make their mother’s heart melt.
“So nice,” she beamed, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around them.
Aeona gave in first. “You can let go now, Mummy,” she giggled. “I’m sure we have somewhere to go.”
“Just a minute longer!” Anwen said as a tear rolled down her cheek.
After a long sigh, she gave a slight cough, wiped her face on Aeona’s pyjama shoulder, and said,
“Why do you need to grow up so fast?”
She leaned backwards to release them and look at their beautiful faces. With a pause, she choked, “OK! Now… who wants to go to school?” It felt more like five months than nearly five years since she had been blessed with them. “This is harder than I guessed,” she confided in herself.
She had thought the twins would be nervous and not want to go to school, but she didn’t want this day to come.
On top of the toybox, neatly ironed and folded, waited the uniforms—tiny burgundy jumpers with green apple logos on the breast, cream long-sleeved shirts and blouses, and two pairs of long grey trousers.
Aeona had wanted to wear a skirt, which she felt made her look more like Mummy, but the weather was far too cold for it at the moment, Anwen explained.
“Come on, get your jammies off, and let’s do this!” she cheered.
Ten minutes later, Aeona and Christopher were laughing and putting their shoes on at the bottom of the stairs, bags in hand, waiting for their mother to come down.
“Mummy,” they called, “we’re ready! Come! We don’t want to be late!”
It didn’t take her more than five minutes to come down, put on their coats, zip them up to their chins, and get them ready to leave.
“LET’S GO!” she cheered as they made their way out, closing the door behind them.
The sky was a foreboding grey, but the forecast said it wouldn’t rain until late in the evening. Anwen took her umbrella with her just in case, even though the school was only at the end of the road.
The school, a charming old building with ivy climbing up its walls, used to be an old nursing home that had been converted to accommodate the increasing number of young children in the area. Anwen had had the twins on the waiting list since they were two, to ensure they had a place, especially as it was so close to home. As they walked reluctantly, hand in hand, along the pavement, the twins questioned their mother, trying to get as much information as possible. They wanted to be able to answer all the questions they guessed their new teacher would ask them.
“Mummy, Mummy,” Christopher pulled at his mother’s arm. “I’m sure she will ask us how old we are, Mummy.”
“I’m sure she is, so you have to say, ‘I am nearly seven and a half,’” she answered, pre-empting the follow-up, adding, “Your birthday is on the second of February. That’s only six months away, and you’ll be eight!”
“Wooo-hoo! Do you hear that, Aeona? We are going to be eight soon!” Christopher laughed and kissed his mother’s hand. He then skipped around her back to the other side and grabbed his sister’s hand.
When they arrived at school, they entered the gates with the welcoming smile of Mrs Jenkins, their class teacher.
“Good morning,” Aeona called. “My name is Aeona, and this is my brother, Christopher. We are twins.”
“Good morning, Aeona. Good morning, Christopher,” the teacher laughed. “It looks like someone’s excited to come to school! In you go, my lovelies, in you go!”
The teacher smiled at the mother. “By the looks of it, the children are more up for this than you are,” she said. “Go and relax for a few hours, love. They’re in safe hands, you know that,” she confided. “You’ll have them back sooner than you think.”
More children rushed past her, all laughing and giggling, distracting her from the emotional breakdown she was about to have. It was the first time she had been separated from them since they had been born. Then disaster struck: a little boy wouldn’t let go of his mother’s hand.
“No, Mummy, I don’t want to go. I want to go home,” he sobbed, to the woman’s embarrassment.
The twins’ mother saw the emotion in the boy’s eyes and was unable to contain herself any longer. In tears, she turned, backed away, and slowly walked home. She sat on the couch for the next few hours, not knowing what to do with herself, thinking about whether the twins were having a good time. But before she knew it, the time had flown, and she was waiting for the bell to ring at the gate.
Out, they came all smiles, yelling about how much fun it had been. “Mummy, Mummy, Miss, let us play with board games!” Christopher smiled, wrapping his arms around her, with Aeona around them.
“Yes… yes… and the new playground is amazing!” his sister added.
They continued all the way back home, telling their mother all the things they had done. It was much different than the previous year.
“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” said the little boy excitedly.
She knew this was a new beginning, and whether she liked it or not, they were growing up.
Around two in the morning, Aeona woke restlessly, a feeling of dread settling over her as her bladder was about to burst. She slid out of bed as quietly as she could, but the urgency of the matter made her scrabble for the door. She yanked at the handle, which protested, creaking on its hinges, waking her sleeping brother. He sat up as the landing light sliced into the room. He whimpered, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Shhh! You’ll wake Mum and Dad,” she whispered. “I need to go pee!”
Annoyed by the disturbance, he groaned, closed his eyes, flopped back onto his pillow, pulled the covers over his head, and went back to sleep.
Aeona tiptoed past her parents’ room, making sure to step over the loose floorboard by the spare room, heading to the toilet at the end of the landing. She sneaked in and quickly sat, panicking at the splashing sound, listening for movement outside that never came. It was best not to flush the toilet, she thought, as she didn’t want to get shouted at by her light-sleeping mother. Her father could generally sleep through anything.
When she had finished, she returned to bed, passed the spare room with the loose floorboard, and paused, looking inside. Her parents had told her that when she was five, she would be able to have her own room, but at the moment, Christopher was too attached to her to sleep by himself, and hopefully, by their next birthday, they would persuade him to let her go. She couldn’t wait to call it hers. New wallpaper, bed covers, and shelves for all her dolls and teddies. It would be the best birthday present ever.
She stopped at the top of the stairs, trying to decide if she could chance going to the kitchen for a glass of water. “It’ll be alright,” she whispered under her breath. Her hand was already on the bannister rail, which pulled her towards mischief.
She stood, hesitant for a moment, and then shook off the imaginary demons, creeping towards the sink to get a glass. But as she did, she stepped onto the leg of her cat, Jinx, who let out a loud squeal and bolted under the dining room table. Aeona fell backwards with a cry. Her twisted ankle gave way under her, and as she went down, she sliced her shoulder against the cooker. She lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, her ankle clasped in her left hand, shoulder in her right.
“Stupid cat!” she cursed.
Through the torn sleeve, blood seeped through her fingers; the strange warmth comforted the pain and brought focus to her sprained ankle. She tried to move, but the excruciating agony shot up her leg. She sat up sobbing, thinking of what her parents would do to her, but the damage had already been done. She stayed, coughing on the floor, watching the clock on the refrigerator for more than ten minutes. A strange smell hung in the air.
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