The image of you, p.14
The Image of You, page 14
Nice one.
Twenty-One
Alexia
We were so pleased when we came up with their names. Anna and Zoe. A to Zee. Opposite ends of the alphabet to show that they were linked but different. The reverse, as it happened. Opposite ends of the spectrum.
Soon, we started to reap the benefits of doing something so extraordinary as having twins. Becoming a parent. It’s a miracle. Every time. No one understands or knows that until they experience it. Becoming a parent to twins is more than that. We felt like celebrities, wherever we went we were stopped in the street. People would say, ‘Aren’t they cute, aren’t they adorable.’ The girls loved it, they’d smile on demand, strike a sweet pose, sing, blow kisses, basically perform any which way was requested. Especially Anna, always such a people pleaser. Yes, Zoe liked basking at the centre of attention, however she had other ways of getting there.
It worried me a little. I didn’t want to raise the sort of girls who thought looking cute was enough. I did my best to counter the unearned praise that was poured on them for just looking lovely, even doubly lovely. ‘Yes, cute and so kind,’ I’d add, conscientiously. Although this was only ever true of Anna. ‘Very academic.’ Again Anna. ‘They enjoy gymnastics, seem to have a knack.’ Zoe probably had the edge there. Anna seemed to hear my message; she liked being recognized as pretty—which little girl wouldn’t?—but she seemed to enjoy being thought of as clever and doing well at school, far more. I guess she always had the competitive edge. People often assumed that Zoe must be the more competitive, because she was louder and more confident. People associate those things with winning, yet it’s not always the case; in fact, Zoe was a bit lazier than Anna. To be good at anything requires plenty of effort, make no mistake about that. There’s a study that claims if you put ten thousand hours of practice into anything you become an expert, even if you don’t have an innate talent. You have to put in the hours; even being good at lying takes a certain amount of determination and hard work. Zoe pretty soon realized that she found it harder to accomplish all that Anna did at school. She was slower to learn her letters and to count. She was still above class average, far above it—she could have been quite the scholar too—but she sort of quit before she’d begun. Zoe never liked coming second in any race, she’d rather not get off the blocks.
The differences between them started to widen. They still looked identical genetically but it was far easier to tell them apart. If one of them was misbehaving, it was Zoe; if the two of them were misbehaving, it was Zoe’s idea and she was the one out front. Zoe was hard work. She went through all the awful stages, and I mean all. She had a scribbling on the wall phase, a biting phase, the endless, mindless stage of repeating the question ‘Why?’ without listening to the answer, without caring at all really, she just did it to annoy. She took longer to be toilet trained. I always believed she grasped it when Anna did but just sometimes couldn’t be bothered to walk to the bathroom. I remember changing her night nappy when she was as old as three, maybe four. She’d eye me lazily. Her look said, ‘More fool you for being prepared to clean up my mess.’
Anna also fell into the role of tidying up after Zoe. She never went to bed without putting away all their toys, crayons, books, play dough. Anna thought it was fun to help around the house; she liked to carefully dust, she paired socks and straightened the duvets on hers and Zoe’s bed every morning from the age of about four. She liked to run little errands. If ever I flopped down in front of the TV and bemoaned the fact I’d left my glasses upstairs, she’d jump to her feet, ‘Please can I get them, Mummy?’ As though I was doing her the favour. She never had to be prompted to say her pleases and thank yous, to share or take a turn. As a result, Anna was welcomed into other people’s homes, she was the sort of kid people wanted their kids to be friends with. She only ever accepted invites that included Zoe. More fool her. As often as not, they’d be sent home in disgrace because Zoe had lost her temper and scribbled on other kids’ books or kicked their chairs out from under them. I found it frustrating, maddening, although mostly it made me sad. I never understood why Zoe wanted to make her life so much harder than it had to be. I was often being called into school. The ticking-offs, the outright roastings were hard enough to endure as a mother, I could only imagine what Zoe made of it, considering teachers invariably ended every meeting with a shake of the head. ‘She’s nothing like her sister, is she? Anna is such a good girl.’
They rarely dressed alike after the age of about eight. Anna might have gone along with it for longer, but Zoe was determined to be her own person; she just would not put on the clothes I laid out for her, not if they matched Anna’s. I think that hurt Anna. Even back then, she thought Zoe was trying to peel away, to separate herself off; Anna was happy for them to be indistinguishable to the point of being seen as one entity, Zoe wasn’t. She wanted her individuality, at any cost. I understood. Anna was so good, and helpful, and kind that there was only one place for Zoe to go. Better to be a completely different whole than a bad half. It’s more interesting.
We thought going to America would be good for them both. Zoe, if she wanted it, could have the opportunity of reinventing herself, of becoming more palatable to everyone’s taste. Anna might shake off a little of her propensity to people please, and learn to please herself a bit. Neither girl changed. Their personalities were set, the yin and the yang, the head and the tail; they were held fast by one another. As they grew up it became obvious that they were different in so many ways, but they were still fiercely close. To her credit Zoe never resented Anna for her success or her sweetness, she wasn’t jealous of her; if anything, she was protective of her. Zoe was dark enough to know that Anna’s naivety was a risk. Anna thought school was a joy and that she had a lot of friends. Zoe said that it was pitiful that Anna didn’t realize they were queuing up to take advantage of her.
‘How do you mean?’ I asked, concerned.
‘She lets people copy her homework.’
‘I like helping people,’ Anna pointed out calmly.
‘Then you should probably teach them the maths, rather than just giving them the answers,’ I advised.
‘She gives away her cookies.’
‘It’s good to share,’ smiled Anna.
I didn’t know what to say. Was it possible to be too good? It wasn’t like Anna was going to die of hunger if she sacrificed her break-time snack.
‘It’s a good job you’ve got me to look out for you,’ said Zoe ominously.
I thought it was a benefit that we had Anna to look out for Zoe. I believed that Zoe mixing with Anna must somehow ultimately do her some good. And she liked being with Anna. I used to worry that it was simply because Anna was a convenient patsy for Zoe’s troublemaking, and later because Anna was prepared to cover for her, but I don’t think it was just that. I believe, and I have to continue to believe, that Zoe loved her sister. Absolutely. Always and for ever.
That’s what they used to say to each other. That was their thing. When they were young one or the other would say, ‘I love you.’
The second one would reply, ‘Absolutely.’
Then whoever had initiated the loving comment would finish up with, ‘Always and for ever.’
It was adorable. Everyone agreed. As the years passed, they stopped saying, ‘I love you’. They depended on the shorthand.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Always and for ever.’
I’d listen carefully and I heard something change. Anna started to have an inflection in her voice that suggested a question. As though she never quite believed it. I worried about that. You worry about a lot of things as a parent, don’t you?
Twenty-Two
Nick
It took ten days of emailing and planning before Anna and Zoe settled on a date that they were all free to meet up. Nick got the impression that whilst Zoe was keen, she also liked to do things her way. She had insisted on meeting Anna for coffee and then lunch first, just the two of them. He understood that they’d have stuff they wanted to catch up on, sisters and all that; twins, with their special connection, needed time to themselves. He didn’t want to intrude. On the other hand, the arrangements seemed to be as complicated as calling a national summit between world leaders. Normally so collected, Anna was obviously in a bit of a state about the whole introduction business; more than once she said, ‘Maybe we just shouldn’t bother.’ Nick had been the one who pushed ahead; he knew that Anna’s relationship with Zoe was important to her and therefore his relationship with Zoe was important too. He suggested they meet at the Savoy Grill. It was the sort of place you took someone if you wanted to impress, and Nick did want to impress his future sister-in-law. Although she’d come with dire warnings—basically a walking, talking, ticking time bomb—she was the first family member of Anna’s that he was to be introduced to in person; it mattered to him what she thought, he wanted to make a good impression. But Anna had said that the Savoy was too risky.
‘What do you mean?’ he’d asked.
‘Exposed,’ she’d muttered, looking sad. ‘We need somewhere smaller. Zoe wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to show off at the Savoy. It’s very open, isn’t it? Before you know it, she’ll be naked, perched on top of the desert trolley gliding past the other diners’ tables.’
Nick had wanted to laugh at the image Anna had conjured up, but the concern in her face stopped him from doing so. Instead, he asked. ‘So you’ve been to the Savoy? Was that one of your dates, before you met me?’
‘I wish. No. I’ve seen pictures online. You know, when you get random emails offering three courses for a set price; but if you take up the offer, then you spend twice as much because you get seduced into buying loads of extras.’
‘Extras?’
‘Vegetables, coffee.’
‘I’d say they were integral.’
‘They cost extra.’ Anna looked abashed.
They hadn’t had a straight conversation about salaries. He didn’t know exactly what she earned, and she probably couldn’t even imagine exactly what he earned. Safe to say there was a discrepancy. She worked for a registered charity. He worked for an investment bank.
‘I’ll take you one day.’
‘That would be lovely,’ she’d said, and then she’d let him kiss her concerns away.
In the end Anna chose and booked the restaurant. He hadn’t been expecting great things. He thought she might pick somewhere cheap and cheerful, maybe the sort of place where students paid a cover charge to bring their own alcohol, which they duly brought in copious amounts to mask the terrible food. They probably wouldn’t be allowed to bring alcohol, because of Zoe’s issues, so they’d have to plough through the awful food without the protection of inebriation. He wasn’t looking forward to it; however, he didn’t interfere. As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Anna chose an elegant, intimate restaurant in a small boutique town-house hotel, tucked away behind a discrete glossy black door in one of those smart, quiet roads in the West End that tourists never discover.
The London streets were crammed with drinkers and dinners; the hotel lobby offered a calm retreat and air conditioning. It was full of deep leather tub chairs that had been worn just the correct amount, enough to suggest the place had heritage, not so much as to suggest it was suffering cash-flow problems. He was shown to a booth that could seat up to six but was set for three. The waiter swiftly removed the ‘reservation’ sign. The wine and cocktail list was long and complicated, almost a book; just the sort Nick usually enjoyed getting his head around. This evening he snapped it closed after just a cursory glance. He wondered whether or not he should order himself an aperitif; what were the rules around Zoe? In the end he played it safe, ordering a lime soda. He fingered the corner of the heavy, crisp blue-and-white linen napkin, and watched the minute hand on the wall clock slowly edge round. They’d arranged to meet at the restaurant at seven thirty; Nick had come here straight from work, but Anna’s plan was to go home and change first.
‘No way am I turning up in my work clothes,’ she’d said with surprising firmness. ‘I promise you, Zoe will be dressed to the nines, she’ll look knockout. I’m going to look dowdy by comparison, no matter what I do, but I’m going to at least make an effort.’
He’d thought it was sweet and honest the way she fessed up as much but he also thought she was wrong. He couldn’t imagine Zoe would be able to outshine Anna. Even if they were twins. Nick believed people got the face they deserved: Anna’s was bright, open, happy, beautiful; he imagined Zoe would wear her hardness and suffering.
He’d arrived ten minutes early; it wasn’t like him to have time to spare. Anna and Zoe were now ten minutes late; it wasn’t like Anna to leave him hanging. Normally she was pathological about time-keeping. Although he hadn’t imagined punctuality would be amongst Zoe’s attributes. Of course, they were still well within the confines of fashionably and acceptably late, but their tardiness was exasperated by his promptness; he felt silly and self-conscious sitting on his own. He imagined this must be what it felt like if you were ever stood up on a date; not that he ever had been. His phone beeped and he scrambled to pick up. Anna. Thank God, no doubt she was ringing to say she was just five minutes away. She’d still get here before Zoe. It was crazy, he was a man who had met heads of commerce and industry across the world, he’d managed aggressive press conferences, he’d even given a talk to two hundred Year 11s at his old school—he was not easily phased—but he didn’t want to be alone with Zoe.
‘I am so, so sorry, darling. I’m having the worst day at work.’
He didn’t like the word ‘having’; he understood that immediately. She sounded breathless and he recognized that she was anxious. When she felt stressed, Anna didn’t yell, snap or cry, the way so many did, she dealt with it in such an admirable, mature way, her breathing simply became a little shallow.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Ivan lost it.’
‘The guy with Tourette’s.’
‘Yes, that’s right. He threw chairs and tables. It really upset the other visitors. You can imagine. We promise them a calm, safe environment and then Ivan starts to lob furniture left, right and centre.’
‘What set him off?’
‘Another job rejection. Then Mrs Skarvelis had a little accident as a consequence.’
‘What sort of accident?’ Nick imagined cut heads, bruised knees.
‘She wet herself. She didn’t dare get past the commotion although she needed the bathroom. So she just sat in her chair in the library corner. Naturally, she was mortified.’
Nick shook his head. People thought his job, working with hundreds of thousands of pounds, often millions, was stressful, yet he counted his lucky stars he never had to deal with anything like this.
‘A couple of the other oldies left in a huff. I’m not sure when they’ll feel comfortable coming back, which is such a shame because, you know, the elderly people are lonely and they do need the company.’
‘What’s happening now?’
‘Well, Ivan is calming down, although he’s still pretty prickly. In all the commotion he cut his hand. I’ll have to take him to A&E.’
Nick sighed.
‘Vera can’t do it as it’s her youngest son’s parents evening at school. Already rearranged from last week.’ Almost guiltily she added, ‘Also, I said I’d straighten things up, file the report. Everything has to be done tonight. The trustees of the charity are pretty strict about that sort of thing.’
‘Oh well, of course I understand.’ Nick had the type of job that regularly massacred his free time, he couldn’t resent Anna for having the same commitment. ‘We’ll just cancel dinner. Rearrange things with Zoe.’
‘Well, that’s what I thought at first but it seems stupid with Zoe just sitting upstairs, all dressed up and nowhere to go. She’d only order room service from the same kitchen. That doesn’t make sense.’
‘She’s upstairs?’
‘Yes. She’s staying at the hotel. Didn’t I tell you that? I thought I had.’
She might have. They both knew she might have.
‘I was going to ring her from reception when I arrived. That was the plan.’
Nick could hear the question in her voice before she actually put it out there.
‘I wondered whether you’d be OK going ahead without me? I’ll join you as soon as I can.’
He knew that wouldn’t be anytime soon. A trip to A&E, a report to file.
‘Wouldn’t you prefer it if I came over to the hospital? I could accompany Ivan while you filed the report. You wouldn’t have such a late night then.’
‘Soooo tempting! But I’ve already spoken to Zoe and she says she’s happy to have dinner with you. In fact, she sounded crazy keen. I couldn’t put her off.’
‘Oh.’
‘You’re OK, with this?’
‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘You’re the best.’
‘Is there, erm, is there anything—?’ He didn’t know how to phrase it.
‘You’ll be fine. Don’t let her drink.’
He wondered how he was supposed to manage that; take her glass away?
‘OK, look, I have to go. Ivan is still very agitated. Zoe said she wouldn’t be long. Love you.’
He barely got to say it back to her before Anna had rung off. He sighed, put his phone in his pocket and then glanced around the restaurant.
Bloody hell.
There she was, unquestionably. Not just a twin then, an identical twin. Same height, same weight, same hair and eyes, yet different in every way. Zoe was in heels, a clinging skirt and a top that managed to be flimsy and classy. As she glanced around the restaurant, slowly taking in her surroundings, Nick noted that her gestures were confident, purposeful, designed to draw attention. Their physical similarities were certainly incredible but Zoe’s mannerisms were nothing like Anna’s. She had none of Anna’s desire to ingratiate, to amalgamate. Anna sometimes seemed almost apologetic about her beauty, Zoe clearly revelled in it. Anna was what everyone would consider to be a very pretty woman, but this woman was more vivid. Startling.
