Christmas Wishes (42 page)

He disappeared, and the boys refused both cocoa and butties and made for the back door. Edward had a ten-minute walk and Keith would have to catch a tram, but they replied cheerfully to the girls’ farewells that they would probably be around in the morning to talk over their party.

When the door had closed behind them, Gillian gave an exaggerated sigh and threw herself into one of the fireside chairs. ‘Thank God they’ve gone,’ she said devoutly. ‘I’m fond of them both, but I need to talk to you.’

‘Oh really?’ Joy said, with more than a touch of sarcasm. ‘I thought I was just a burden, but it appears I have my uses, few though they are.’

‘Aren’t you touchy?’ Gillian said, and Joy imagined she heard a sneer in her voice. ‘Well, be like that; I’m off to bed.’

‘Go then, see if I care,’ Joy shouted. ‘I don’t need any help from you, Gillian Lawrence.’

‘Oh no?’ Gillian shrieked. ‘Well, we’ll see! Damn your eyes!’

As Gillian disappeared Joy heard the kettle begin to boil and turned off the gas, then made herself a hot drink. She was still shaking with rage and was determined not to go up to bed herself until her sister was soundly sleeping. If she did, the quarrel would escalate and she didn’t want that after such a lovely day.

When an hour had passed she crept up the stairs and into the bedroom. Gillian was just a hump beneath the covers and Joy undressed as quietly as she could and slid into bed, heaving the blankets up over her shoulders. By golly, it had been a grand evening, something really different; she would not let Gillian spoil it for her. She snuggled down; everyone wanted to do it again, though once the cold snap broke …

Exhausted as much by the argument as by the sledging, Joy slept at last.

Joy awoke and lay on her back, wondering when the alarm would go off. Then she remembered it was Sunday and she could have perhaps as much as an extra hour in bed. She turned on her side and snuggled her head into the pillow, trying to go back to sleep. Suddenly, she realised, in the way one does, that the room was empty save for herself. Was it later than she had thought? Sighing, she swung her legs out of bed, wincing as the chill on the linoleum made itself felt, then padded across the room, heading for the bathroom. Gillian must be in there, either spending a penny or washing; she would be able to tell her sister what time it was and whether she should get up.

Joy crossed the small landing and put a hand out towards the doorknob, then realised that the door was open and the bathroom was empty. Lord, it must be later than she had thought! Yet when she returned to her bedroom she realised that the Sunday sounds to which she had grown accustomed were missing. Normally, the pavements rang with the footsteps of people hurrying to church and bells sounding at different times from various places of worship, but now all was quiet.

She had been about to get back into bed, but now she hesitated. If it was really, really early, say five o’clock, then why on earth was Gillian not in her bed? Had she arranged to meet Keith for an expedition into the country? It was possible; Gillian and Keith sometimes went off by themselves to visit friends, or so they said. But she did not think any such arrangements had been made last night. Certainly Keith had said ‘see you tomorrow’, but that meant little. Had he had an early start in mind, he would have reminded Gillian of the fact, knowing how fond she was of her bed.

Joy hesitated for a moment outside Alex’s door, but he was sound asleep; in fact he was snoring. It would be most unfair to wake him. But having ascertained that it was certainly not yet eight o’clock, the time the family usually rose on a Sunday, she returned to her room and began hastily to dress. It took ages, for her fingers were slippery with perspiration and her heart was pounding most unpleasantly. Something was wrong! Oh, why hadn’t she realised that Gillian was being nasty to her because she was unhappy? For now, insensibly almost, Joy had reached the conclusion not only that her sister was not in the house, but that she had gone off on some private business of her own.

As soon as she was respectable, therefore, she went downstairs, checked each room – they were all empty – and then returned to the upstairs landing and banged on her father’s door. ‘Dad, I’m sorry to wake you …’

He groaned and stirred, then sat up. ‘Gillian? Is anything the matter? Is your sister all right? It’s the middle of the night … well, quarter to six anyway, which is the middle of the night on a Sunday.’ He was getting out of bed as he spoke, and Joy knew he was putting on his dressing gown and scuffing his feet into his old carpet slippers. ‘There must be something, or you wouldn’t have roused me so early.’

‘I am my sister,’ Joy said confusedly. ‘That’s to say it’s Gillian who’s disappeared. Oh, Dad, I don’t know what to think!’

‘Disappeared, pet?’ Alex said, his voice sounding faintly amused. He came past her and headed for the stairs. ‘I expect she’s got up early for some reason and gone off with Keith. There’ll be a note …’

They reached the hall, crossed it and entered the kitchen. Joy heard the light click on and her father reach for something on the table, saying cheerfully as he did so: ‘I told you she’d leave us a note, telling us where she’s gone and when she’ll be back. I wonder why it’s in an envelope, though?’

Joy heard the envelope being slit open and the sheets within withdrawn before she said quietly: ‘Have you ever known Gillian go anywhere without telling me? I haven’t. But what does the letter say?’

There was a short pause, and when Alex answered his tone was no longer cheerful; in fact, he sounded thoroughly puzzled. ‘She says she’s arranged to stay with the Dodmans, in Devon, for a few days. They’ve invited her often and now she feels the time is ripe.’ He reached out and patted Joy’s cheek. ‘Darling, she says she loves you – and me, too – but is beginning to feel desperate to get away. What with Christmas, and Keith pestering her to get engaged even before she takes her Higher, she feels she needs time on her own to sort her feelings out. She promises to come back in a week or so …’

‘But what about school?’ Joy asked. ‘Term starts in a few days.’

‘Oh, she’ll be back before then,’ Alex said with a confidence Joy was sure he did not feel. He swung round and took her hand and she imagined she could feel his anxiety coming down his arm and through his hand into hers, like an electric shock. She was tempted to remind him that her twin was self-confident, clever and had two perfectly good eyes. Why should he worry about Gillian just because she had gone off in such a heedless, impulsive way? But then Alex seemed to recollect himself. ‘Are you telling me, Joy, that she’s left without so much as a word to you?’ he asked incredulously. ‘And without so much as a spare pair of nylons? I think we’d better go up to your room and see if you can tell me what’s missing.’

Half an hour later, father and daughter sat at the kitchen table with a teapot and a plate of bread and butter before them, though neither attempted to eat or drink. They now knew that Gillian must have planned her flight well in advance, for she had packed a Gladstone bag with all that she felt she would need during her absence.

Joy had bitten back her annoyance upon discovering that her twin had taken not only her own belongings, but also some of Joy’s. ‘She’s pinched my new grey corduroys and the cherry red sweater Auntie Clarke made me,’ she had said crossly. ‘And she’s left me her disgusting old flannel and taken my nice new one, as well as the little shoe-cleaning kit which Edward gave me for Christmas. I do hope that she’s not snitched my wellies, because she takes a size smaller than I do and if I have to cram my feet into hers I’ll be crippled as well as blind.’

However, Joy’s wellies were discovered to be safe, and now Alex was getting down to the serious business of trying to discover some reason for Gillian’s flight. ‘You know her better than anyone, pet,’ he told Joy. ‘Are you absolutely sure that she said nothing of this in a casual sort of way over the last few days? Has she had a letter – oh, of course you couldn’t possibly know if she’d received a letter and chosen not to tell you. But she might have mentioned the Dodmans. Have you any idea why she could have gone?’

There was a short pause before Joy replied, and when she did so she chose her words carefully. ‘To tell you the truth, Dad, she and I had a bit of a barney on Friday night. She was complaining that I was a – a heavy responsibility, and saying that everyone expected her to keep an eye on me – as if I were a burden, you know. I got angry, I’m afraid, and said some things I didn’t mean.’

‘I did hear raised voices, but I didn’t pay much attention,’ Alex said. ‘But if Gillian said those things she would have been joking, surely? She’s never so much as hinted that she isn’t delighted to go about with you. Why should she be? You’re identical twins.’

‘Oh, Dady, cast your mind back!’ Joy interrupted. ‘Before my accident, she was always saying that she hated being an identical twin and wanted to be regarded as a person in her own right. I’m not blaming her,’ she added quickly, ‘but I’ve thought quite often lately that she still sometimes resents our – our twinnishness.’

She expected her father to disagree, and was pleasantly surprised when he said thoughtfully: ‘I know what you mean. Whilst you were at Blinkers, Gillian was free as a bird to do whatever she liked, whenever she liked. To tell you the truth, Auntie Clarke told me a couple of times that I should curb Gillian or she would become thoroughly selfish. I didn’t really know what she meant, but now I suppose I do. She thought that whenever your sister announced – she never asked – that she was off somewhere, perhaps for a couple of days at the weekend tramping through the Welsh hills with a group of girlfriends, I should have asked for more details. It never occurred to me that she might be telling an untruth, but …’

‘Gillian would never tell you a lie, Dad,’ Joy said at once, then realised that she had leapt to her twin’s defence without a thought. If she had given the matter consideration, she would probably have responded quite differently, but now was the time for little white lies, not for the starkness of the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Alex leaned across the table and pushed a slice of bread and butter into Joy’s hand. ‘You must eat something,’ he said coaxingly. ‘I’m sure we’re worrying for no reason; it’s like brides before a wedding, nerves and so on.’

‘But as we’ve already said, she’ll have to come back in a few days because of school,’ Joy observed. ‘She won’t risk losing valuable lesson time, because she really is serious about being the first Lawrence to go to university. She wants to go to Cambridge, like Keith, and I believe only the cream of the crop get to go there.’

Alex let out his breath in a long whistle of relief and Joy could imagine how the frown had lifted from his forehead as a smile lit his dark eyes and curved his mouth. ‘Oh, darling, you’re right, of course. She won’t want to miss school, though I suppose a couple of days wouldn’t make much difference. But now I want you to think hard. Has Gillian said anything, anything at all, about going off without a word to anyone? We would have been delighted to give her a little holiday, wouldn’t we, Joy? I don’t see why she couldn’t tell us straight out. You could have gone with her, though work might have made it difficult …’

‘Impossible, you mean,’ Joy said ruefully. ‘I’m not due for any time off until I’ve been at Wittard’s for six months. But if Gillian wants to be alone to think, she wouldn’t want me with her. It’s a pity neither the Dodmans nor the Goodys are on the phone but Gillian’s an adult, Dad, and extremely capable, even though she’s not of age. I can tell you, she’ll be furious if we try to interfere. We know she’s safe with the dear Dodmans, so I really think we must grit our teeth and let well alone.’

The opening of the back door cut across her words and he and Joy turned towards the person who entered, well wrapped up against the bitter cold but immediately identifiable by the snuffling pug which barged in ahead of her.

‘Say nothing …’ Alex was beginning in an urgent whisper, but Joy shook a reproving head.

‘Not sensible, Dad,’ she hissed. ‘Everyone’s got to know; better say we agreed that Gillian needed a little holiday before beginning the spring term.’ She raised her voice. ‘I mean, Keith and Edward will be round later, and even if I could bring myself to lie to Keith, I could never do so to Edward. Why, with Gillian flying off in a temper I shall need dear Edward more than ever!’

‘What’s that?’ Mrs Clarke said, bending to unclip Dilly’s lead and propelling the fat little dog towards her favourite nook by the stove. ‘What’s Madam up to this time? She’s been edgy for the best part of a week, complaining that she was scarcely able to leave the house without someone demanding to know where she was going.’

‘Auntie Clarke, you’re incredible,’ Joy said, meaning every word. ‘There’s me and Dad wondering why Gillian should have decided to take off without a word to anyone, and you knew things weren’t right all along.’

‘I’m ashamed of myself,’ Alex began, but was shushed at once by Mrs Clarke.

‘The onlooker sees most of the game,’ she said placidly. ‘Gone off, has she? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.’

Gillian sat in the train which was taking her away from Liverpool and contemplated her past and her future. She had begun to plot as soon as young Dr Slocombe had told her he was off to take up an advantageous position as registrar at the Barnstaple infirmary. ‘Don’t you wish you could come with me?’ he had said, giving her the benefit of his slow, meaningful smile. ‘But there’s no chance of that, of course, the way you feel. Indeed, it might be best if we said our goodbyes now, because I’m leaving next Saturday.’

Gillian had tried to display indifference, though she suspected she had made a poor job of it, telling him airily that next Saturday was the date fixed for the sledging party. ‘So I shan’t even be able to see you off,’ she had told him. ‘Never mind. I shall miss you, though …’

They had been meeting in the coach house at the back of the doctors’ surgery whenever she could get away, exchanging delicious, wicked kisses and some rather heavy petting, so by the time the sledging party had been mooted she was deep in his thrall. It was odd really, because she was sure she did not love him, was indeed half afraid of him, but she was fascinated by his experienced lovemaking. If she went down to Devon for a couple of days he might expect her to share his bed, but she had no intention of so doing; it would simply be delightful to walk openly down the street, hand in hand, acknowledging their relationship. Maybe she might even discover that she did love him, that her fear was all part of that love; if so she would consider a more permanent relationship, though he had never suggested it.