Duplicity (19 page)

‘I wish I knew, Helen.’ Her eyes were moist. ‘I keep trying to remember. You’d think nobody could forget a thing like that, but it’s hopeless.’

Giving up, Helen got to her feet. ‘We’d better go and join the warriors, or they’ll be wondering what we’re doing.’

The afternoon sped past, with Frank playing all kinds of games with the children and the two women looking on fondly. It was a few minutes after five when Roselle looked at her watch. ‘Oh, gosh! We’ll have to be going home, kids. It’s time I was getting your tea ready.’

‘Oh, not already.’ The words came in unison, like everything they did, although they were not identical twins. Blue-eyed Dyllis - usually known as Dilly - had golden hair that hung to her shoulders in lovely, soft waves, while Roderick - Roddy - had deep brown eyes to match his tight curls. Their personalities were also very different. Roddy was quick to anger, and thankfully, equally quick to simmer down.

Frank flopped down on the grass. ‘You know, lass, I
have
felt a lot younger since those two kids came to live next door. I just hope they stay around for a long time yet.’

‘I’m sure they will. Roselle looks much better than she did when we saw her first, and so does Brian. And the twins have grown even bonnier than they were. I think they’re settled. They’ll maybe think of buying that house.’

‘I hope so. Now, are you thinking of making something for us to eat, or are you cemented to that chair?’

‘Ach, you.’ Helen couldn’t help smiling as she stood up. He, too, was so much happier nowadays, and long may it continue.

The twins were in bed when Brian came home from the job he had found in Edinburgh only a few days after they’d arrived here. It was a long day, but he didn’t mind that as long as his family were happy. At least he’d been able to provide them with a good life without having to dip into his ‘emergency’ money. In fact, he’d almost forgotten that there had ever been a need for such a fund. ‘What have you three been up to today?’ he asked, after going up to kiss the children goodnight.

Roselle smiled. ‘Just the usual, really. Frank took us to the beach at Portobello for a while, but it was too hot, so we just came back and took it easy in their garden. He’s very good with the kids, you know.’ She looked at him to see if he was jealous, but he was smilingly nodding agreement, so she added, ‘We’re lucky having him and Helen next door.’

‘You’re right. I wasn’t too sure about Helen at first, I thought she was too nosey, but she was just being friendly. I realise that now.’

‘I told you that long ago, but I’m glad you’ve seen sense at last.’

Roselle and Brian soon had more reason to be grateful for having the Milnes as neighbours. It all happened on the afternoon of the twins’ fifth birthday. Because they were to be starting school in less than a week, Helen had prepared a large amount of their favourite foods, savoury as well as sweet, and had also invited several of the children who lived nearby. Frank had hired a bouncy castle and engaged a magician to entertain the young ones after their meal. It was another glorious day, Brian had managed to wangle a day off and everything had gone according to plan.

The bouncy castle had been a huge success, backed with several children’s games that Frank had also organised for them. There were no tears, no nasty moments; the selection of food and drinks was so big that no one had to go hungry or thirsty. A few of the mothers, including Roselle, had begun by watching their offspring carefully in case they overate and made themselves sick, but everything had sailed along so perfectly that they soon gave up.

The magician enthralled young and old alike, most of the parents taking some snaps of the happy and amazed faces of his audience. Then, as a last item, and to get the excited children calmed down a little before they had to go to bed, Frank had driven Helen mad for days before by practising a medley of nursery rhymes on his accordion. The entire company joined in now, and would have raised the roof if they had been inside. As it was, several passers-by stopped to join in and even neighbours who had no small children hurried round to take part. All in all, the day could not have gone better, and the visitors dispersed with many thanks and congratulations to the hosts.

Most of the women had helped to tidy up after the meal, so there was very little mess for the Milnes to clear, and Helen refused Roselle’s offer to lend a hand. ‘No, no, off you go and get the twins to bed. Dilly looks done in.’

‘She hasn’t looked really well all day.’ It was Brian, least involved in the preparations and amusements, who was the only one to have noticed the little girl’s lack of energy.

Ashamed of themselves for being so remiss, the other three adults looked at each other in dismay and Helen said, hastily, ‘He’s right, Roselle. Maybe you should phone the doctor in the morning and get him to have a look at her.’

‘Maybe she’s just eaten too much,’ Frank suggested.

‘I don’t think so,’ his wife said now, ‘but you should still phone, dear, just to make sure. I’ll come round first thing and see how she is. Off you go, now.’

So the two children were hustled away, Brian even sweeping the little girl up in his arms and carrying her home. Then he handed her over to her mother and busied himself putting his son to bed.

‘What’s wrong with Dilly?’ Having lost a pet canary a few weeks ago, the boy couldn’t get the idea of death out of his head. ‘Is she going to die?’

‘Of course she’s not going to die! It’ll be an upset tummy, that’s all. Now lie down and sleep, like a good boy, and let her get a good night’s rest. She’ll be OK in the morning.’

He was to be proved very wrong, however. Dyllis wouldn’t settle, crying now, and looking so flushed that Roselle decided to stay with her. Roddy was carried through to the parental bed to sleep beside his father, and they were the only two who did get any peace. Dilly’s sobs became moans and she grew so hot and flushed that Roselle phoned for the doctor just after midnight. She hated the idea of making the man lose his precious sleep, but she was really worried about her daughter. Doctor Alexander obviously recognised the panic in her voice and told her he’d be right there. Good as his word, he arrived in a few minutes.

After only a brief examination, he murmured, ‘I’m afraid it’s serious, Mrs Lewis. I’m not absolutely sure, but it could be meningitis and she needs to be in hospital, the sooner the better. We don’t want to wait for an ambulance, so I’ll take her myself.’

Brian, who had run through when he heard the car stopping, said now, ‘Do you want me to go with them,

Ros?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll go. You stay here with Roddy.’

Having wrapped his patient in her duvet, Doctor Alexander carried her downstairs, standing aside until Brian opened the door for him. Roselle came last, pulling on a coat she had lifted from the hallstand before going into the back seat beside her daughter. At that moment, the Milnes came running out of their front door, and without asking any questions, the woman said to Brian, ‘If you want to go with them, I’ll go in and be with Roddy. And don’t worry how long you stay, I’ll manage fine. Anyway, Frank’ll likely help out, as well.’

Dilly was whipped away as soon as they arrived in the hospital, and her parents were shown into a small room to await the results of the doctors’ examination. It was almost an hour before anyone came near them to give them any news. Sadly, when an elderly man came in, his face was extremely grave. ‘I’m Doctor Fielding,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid the news is not good. Your little girl is suffering from meningitis and the next few hours are critical. However, she is young, and has been well nourished, so she should be able to fight this, and indeed to overcome it. However, I cannot promise a miracle cure, and can only advise you not to lose hope. Keep praying for her recovery.’ He turned away as Brian voiced his heartfelt thanks for him being so honest, and left the young parents to face up to what may lie ahead.

Hour after hour they huddled together, not speaking, just holding each other, the close contact helping them to keep a tight rein on the fluctuating levels of their anxiety. At one point, what Brian had been thinking for some time came to the surface, and without realising he was doing so, he muttered, ‘Please God, if you are punishing me for the crimes I’ve committed, you’ve succeeded a hundredfold, but please don’t take your anger at me out on this innocent child. Please don’t take her from us. Please God. It would kill her mother. Look, if I promise never to go off the rails again, will that satisfy you?’

Realising that he was saying this aloud, he glanced apprehensively at Roselle, but she didn’t appear to be paying any attention. She hadn’t heard, thank God.

At four o’clock, a young nurse brought in a tray with tea and biscuits, saying as she laid it on the small table beside them, ‘I know you won’t feel like eating, but it’ll help you.’

‘Do you know how our daughter is?’ Brian asked, hoping against hope that she had at last heard something of the little girl’s condition.

‘I don’t really know anything definite,’ she replied apologetically, ‘but I did hear she was holding her own. That’s a good sign, you know.’

‘Thanks.’ Brian did not look at all convinced although he squeezed Roselle’s arm to encourage her to think positively.

And so they sat, for another four hours, hearing doors closing, footsteps coming and going in the corridor outside, hushed conversations as nurses or doctors hurried by, but eventually the door opened and the same tall, balding man came in, evidence of hours of strain clearly on his thin face.

‘I’m very pleased to tell you that your daughter has turned the corner, and is now on the road to recovery.’

‘Thank heaven!’ Brian said, while Roselle burst into tears of joy.

‘She has a long way to go yet, Mr Lewis, but I feel positive in saying that she will be as good as new in a few weeks. She is a fighter, your little girl. Now, if you want to see her, just stay a few minutes and then I’d advise you both to go home to get some sleep. You want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when you come in tomorrow, don’t you?’ He gave Roselle’s shoulder a reassuring pat, and Brian murmured, ‘Thank you for what you’ve done for our daughter, Doctor Fielding.’

Despite longing to hug the little girl, both parents stood silently at the side of the cot, looking down on the still figure whose pale face was now peaceful in sleep, thanking God that she had not been taken from them, and after the allotted few minutes, they turned away reluctantly and left.

The evening meal was past before they reached home in a taxi, but a relieved Frank Milne took Roddy out for a little walk while Helen prepared something for the younger couple to eat, and although they told her they didn’t want anything, they did not leave much of what she set in front of them. Then she packed them off to bed, with the order not to come downstairs again until next morning. She didn’t really think that either of them would sleep after the ordeal they had gone through, but, surprisingly, she had to call them twice before they came down at nine thirty for breakfast.

This meal was one that everyone enjoyed, laughing and joking most of the time, but letting slip the odd remark that showed how grateful they were that things had turned out well. Roddy, not old enough to understand what the adults were feeling, was aware that this was a kind of celebration, and was glad that a cloud had been lifted from the household.

Dilly was awake when Roselle and Brian visited that afternoon, but they were warned by the sister not to expect much of her, and not to stay for more than ten minutes. They were also told that no other visitors would be allowed in until the following day.

The next day being Sunday, Roselle asked Helen if she and Frank would watch Roddy in the forenoon to let them go to church to give thanks.

‘I’m glad you thought of that,’ Helen beamed. ‘We’ll be here any time you want.’

‘Oh, thanks, I don’t know what we’d have done without you. You’ll want to see Dilly some time, as well, of course?’

‘Of course we do, but you and Brian have first claim.’

‘How would it be if you and Frank come with us this afternoon? We’ll take Roddy, too.’

Helen turned to Brian now. ‘If that’s all right with you?’

He nodded, smiling. ‘Of course it is, Helen. We owe you and Frank big time.’

Dyllis looked a good bit better that afternoon, but was only allowed two visitors at a time. The first, naturally, were her parents, then Brian went out to let Roddy in. A few minutes later, Helen replaced Roselle, and Frank replaced the boy in another few minutes, and then the two parents had the last few minutes alone again with their daughter. All in all, the time covered was less than half an hour, which was what the sister had advised them would be long enough.

On Monday morning, Roselle gave her son all her attention. This was his first day at school, and he would be on his own - no Dyllis for company. Not for a while yet. Brian went off to work as usual, but Helen, ever on the lookout for some good deed to do, accompanied the new pupil and his mum to school. ‘It’ll be a nice walk for me,’ she smiled, when her young neighbour protested. ‘And it’ll let Frank have the house to himself for a wee while.’

Roddy wasn’t at all upset when they had to leave him, although Roselle was glad that Helen was with her on the way home. She refused the offered ‘cuppa’ when they arrived at the Milnes’ gate. She had something to think about; something she had pushed to the back of her mind for a couple of days, but was aware that she would have to come to terms with some time. She didn’t want to discuss it with Helen, although that good lady might well be able to lull the suspicions that had arisen in her mind.

They hadn’t surfaced at the time Brian said the fateful words, not until the following night in bed, when her thoughts were not so involved in worrying about Dyllis. That’s when they had come back to her. Back to torment her. What had he meant? Crimes? What crimes had he committed? Had he done something really bad? Was that why he didn’t want her to regain her memory?

Carrying out her usual routine of housework, she puzzled over it, thinking up several things that could be described as crimes. Murder, of course, was the first, but she couldn’t believe for one second that Brian had murdered anybody. Grievous bodily harm came next, but the same applied there. Vandalism? Not Brian. No way. He was as gentle as a lamb, never lost his temper. In any case, if it had been any of these, the police would have been after him long before now. Wouldn’t they?