Duplicity (25 page)

Chapter Seven

For his first few weeks in Liverpool, Roddy did feel homesick, although Mrs O’Shaughnessy did all she could to make him feel at home. He missed his parents, he missed his old school pals, but most of all, he missed his sister. When he awoke each morning, he felt this acute pain nagging at his heart, and it grew worse at night. It was as if part of him had disappeared, had been lost for ever, yet he knew that he would always have this same love for her, whether it was right or wrong. Deep down, of course, he knew that it definitely
was
wrong.

As the weeks passed, however slowly, so slowly at first, he got to know his workmates and other young men in his lodgings, and the hollow feeling diminished and almost died, although there were times when, late into the night, he woke up with the same yearning eating at him; the yearning that could never be appeased.

It was another young clerk from the same firm who guided Roddy’s feet onto the road to enjoyment. He had, as a result of his mother’s nagging letters and enclosed postal order, made the journey home to Cruden Bay after three months, and returned after the weekend in deep depression. It had been agony to see Dilly, to have to talk about mundane things, never to have the slightest chance of touching her, or speaking privately to her. On the Monday morning, he looked so miserable that Tony Riley, at twenty just over a year and a half older than him, asked if he would like to go to a cafe with him for lunch. Roddy agreed listlessly, lunch wasn’t a priority for him just then, and he was pleasantly surprised by how well they got on. Over their soup and sandwiches, Tony had him smiling, then giggling, then laughing out loud, and lunch together became a regular thing, followed by the weekends.

The invitation to spend Saturdays and Sundays at the Rileys’ home was issued on only the third week of their acquaintance, although Roddy was reluctant to accept at first - he didn’t feel up to mixing with other people, nor intruding on a family’s weekend - but when he arrived there it was obvious by their welcome that they enjoyed extra company.

Indicating each one with a wave of his hand, Tony made the introductions, ‘Mum, Dad, Boppy - my pest of a baby sister - and my faithful companion Google. After my favourite website,’ he added with a grin.

His mother shook her head at his casual manner. ‘You’ll have to excuse my son, Roddy. He’s got no finesse. I’m Tess, my husband’s called Wilf, my daughter was christened Barbara but called herself Boppy when she was just a wee tot, and it sort of stuck. Google’s a mixed breed …’

‘He doesn’t like being called a m-o-n-g-r-e-l,’ Tony interrupted in a loud whisper, stroking the dog’s head affectionately.

Noticing the adoring way the dog’s eyes regarded Tony, Roddy knew that the dog felt the same way about his master. ‘Thank you very much for inviting me for the weekend, Mrs …’

‘It’s Tess, and we’re delighted you agreed to come.’

Wilf came forward with his hand out, giving the boy a brief, but extremely firm, handshake. ‘Now you’ve met my unruly brood, you’ll maybe have reservations about coming again, but we’ll always be pleased to see you.’ He turned to his wife. ‘And now the introductions are over, perhaps we can have our meal, Tess?’

Still feeling slightly ill at ease, Roddy sat down in the chair Wilf pulled out for him, while Tess and Boppy went through to the kitchen to dish up and the other two took their seats. The meal passed in a flurry of light, teasing talk, especially between the brother and sister, with their parents smilingly putting in an occasional few words to settle a difference of opinion. Roddy was soon drawn into the discussions and mock arguments about anything and everything.

The evening was spent in playing Monopoly, which lasted until Tess said, ‘I think we should call a halt now. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need my beauty sleep.’

Roddy was surprised to see that the large clock on the wall was showing five past twelve, and realised that he actually felt quite tired. Of course, the scores had to be totted up before the table was cleared - Boppy having most of the cash and only Roddy left with some property. He had never played the game before and thoroughly enjoyed the pseudo-serious bargaining that went on, and when he went to bed - a cup of cocoa and a digestive biscuit later - it dawned on him somewhat belatedly that he had laughed more over the past few hours than he had done for months. The Rileys had been a proper tonic. They were a very close-knit family although they pretended to bicker about this and that. Brother and sister were not in the least alike physically, Tony taking after his mother with his almost black hair and startlingly blue eyes, while Boppy and her father had light brown hair and dark, nearly black eyes.

It was the opposite from his own family, he reflected, sleepily; he with the same colouring as their father and Dilly with their mother’s. He fell asleep thinking of her, as he had done ever since he had realised that he loved her, but this time it did not keep him awake as it usually did.

He awoke in the morning feeling refreshed He still loved her, he always would, but he was only too aware that they had to lead separate lives now, find new friends, new happiness. Boppy Riley was the only girl he had come to know in Liverpool and it was too early to tell if she would be his eventual Fate, though he was almost sure that she wouldn’t. She could be good company, though, and that was what he needed now.

‘He’s writing a lot about this Tony Riley who works with him.’ Roselle Lewis handed the letter to her husband, but couldn’t stop speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘He’s been going there for whole weekends and …’ ‘I can read, thank you.’

Brian’s quiet comment made Dilly smile a little. Her parents often argued but not for real, and she knew they loved each other as much as she loved Roddy. She was not quite so sure now, though, that he still loved her. How could he when he was for ever going to see Tony Riley’s family? There was a sister there, too, so it was on the cards that she and Roddy would get together … wasn’t it? Not that he ever hinted at anything like that, but if she was a pretty girl, he must be tempted. He’d been seeing her every weekend for months now; it was too awful to imagine what they could be doing together. They did go to the pictures, and her brother surely wouldn’t want to play gooseberry, so they’d be sitting together, walking home together, maybe even sitting in the sitting room or lounge or whatever after everyone else had gone to bed.

Her father cut into this agonising thought. ‘What d’you think about it, Dilly? Your mother seems to think he’ll hit it off with the daughter of the house.’

‘He could do worse, I suppose,’ she said, forcing herself to make a joke.

Roselle shook her head. ‘He could, and she seems to be a nice girl, but he’s still a bit young to be thinking of settling down.’

The knife turning in her daughter’s heart stilled at this. Of course he was too young to get serious, with this Boppy - stupid name - or any other girl. She was worrying for nothing. Once he’d had his fill of Liverpool, he’d come back to her, even though he’d said they could never be
really
together. They could, if he loved her as much as she loved him. She would go away with him tomorrow, if he asked her to. Nobody would know they were twins if they went to a strange place. He said that was impossible, of course, because any children they might have would be insane, or misshapen, but they wouldn’t need to have any children. There were all sorts of contraceptives available. She felt the blood rushing to her face, wave after wave, at the thought of having sex with Roddy.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Her mother was eyeing her in concern. ‘You’re very flushed.’

‘I feel a bit queasy,’ she lied, ‘but I’ll be all right when I get outside in the cool air.’

‘You should have a lie-down.’

‘I’m all right, I tell you. I promised to meet Janice Burns at eight. She wants to go for a walk in the hope of seeing Jeff Dawson and his pals.’

‘So are you after one of his pals?’

‘Don’t be silly! They’re a bunch of dopes. Well, I’d better be going, or I’ll be late.’

She was barely out of the door when her mother said, ‘You know, Brian, I’m getting really worried about her. She hasn’t been well for …’ she paused, then ended, ‘… for a long time.’

‘You mean, since Roddy went to Liverpool?’

‘Well, yes, but it surely couldn’t be that? He’s her brother - her twin brother.’

Pulling on his jacket, her husband pulled a face, and then said, quietly, ‘I’ve read somewhere that if one twin goes away, the other pines, and I’ve heard people saying it’s true.’ He turned as he went out, adding, ‘It’s only natural, Ros.’

Knowing that there was no sense in arguing further, she wisely said no more, but she was still convinced that there was something far wrong going on in her family.

Although Roddy enjoyed Boppy’s company, it did not take him long to realise that she felt more for him than he felt for her, and he was always relieved when there were other people present. Then, to his horror, over lunch one day, Tony said, with mock drama, ‘Thou art not the only one with an admirer, Roderico. I, too, am being pursued by a tasty wench. Which of us, prithee, will get his leg over first, I wonder?’

‘Stop clowning,’ Roddy snapped, angry at his own embarrassment. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about. I don’t have a girlfriend.’

Tony shook his index finger at him reprimandingly. ‘Cruel, cruel. Thou cannot pullst the wool over mine eyes, however. Canst thou not see that the fair Boppy is ready for the plucking?’

‘Don’t be daft, man! She’s your sister! How can you say anything like that?’

‘It be the truth, Roderico. Hast thou not got eyes in thy head?’

Deciding that changing the subject was the only way out, Roddy said, ‘So you’ve found a girlfriend, have you? Come on then, out with it. Who is she?’

‘Nice try, my friend, but thou willst soon find out the truth for thyself, so I willst answer thy question. See, here she cometh, the delectable Desdemona.’

‘Cut it out, Tone,’ said the tall blonde girl now taking a seat beside them. ‘Hi, Roddy.’

He blinked in amazement. ‘Samantha?’

‘Didn’t you know about Tony and me? Everybody else in Finance does.’

Guffawing at his friend’s blank look, Tony said, ‘Blind as a bat, this one, Sam. Never mind, m’laddo, it’ll be your turn next.’

Roddy gave his head a vehement shake. ‘I don’t think so, Tony. I’m not ready for a girlfriend.’

‘Hast got a wench waiting for thee in Aberdeen - or that Godforsaken place you call home? Is that it?’

‘If you mean Cruden Bay, it’s a lovely village, and there might be somebody there.’ As far as he could see, it was the only way to stop the teasing.

His ploy certainly worked. Tony’s face turned a deep red, and his brows shot down. ‘My God! So you’ve been leading my sister up the garden path all this time. Well I tell you this, you low-life, you’ll never be welcome in our house again.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘Come on, Sam! I can’t stand to look at his two-timing, lying face!’

The girl did as she was told, but before following Tony out, she turned and shrugged apologetically. Roddy, however, was left with a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t told Boppy any lies, he hadn’t let her believe he was serious about her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but he would never get the chance now to tell her so. Unless …? Should he write and explain? How could he, though? He could never tell her, or anyone else, for that matter, that the girl he loved was his twin sister. That would set alarm bells going with a vengeance. It would be blazoned from the rooftops and soon everybody he knew would believe he was some sort of pervert. His name would be in all the papers, with a photo, no doubt. Maybe he’d land in prison for - whatever the crime was called, because it
was
a crime, he was well aware of that.

He had to force himself to return to work, and was thankful that Tony Riley was on another floor, but no doubt he’d be telling all and sundry what had happened. He did not see his ex-friend during the rest of the week, but knew by the embarrassment of the other members of staff he encountered that news of his ‘girlfriend’ had got out. He purposely avoided the little cafe where he and Tony had always gone for lunch. Going hungry was better than being ridiculed by the people who had witnessed the incident.

On finishing work that Friday afternoon, he made for the railway station. He had to go home, to be with people who wouldn’t turn their backs on him.

Roselle had been delighted by the phone call from her son a couple of days ago. It was time he put in an appearance. It must be at least four months since she’d seen him, and she was beginning to think that he was serious about this Boppy girl he’d got to know. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. As his mother, she thought he was far too young to be serious about any girl, but, on the other hand, it would mean that he’d got over his feelings for Dyllis, which would be the best news she’d had for ages.

As soon as she saw him, she could tell from his manner that something had happened, and made signs to her husband and daughter when they returned from their usual Saturday morning walk. Sometimes they went to Slains Castle, the eerie ruins standing on the edge of the cliff, where, the story went, Bram Stoker had got his setting for
Dracula.
Today, however, they had gone a little farther, to the Bullers of Buchan, the fearsome natural formation where, over hundreds, thousands, of years, the sea had eaten deeply into the cliffs, leaving only a tiny footpath between two bottomless pits in which the sea constantly churned in a massive vortex. Both places were known to be extremely dangerous - several accidents, even suicides, had taken place there - and Roselle was never happy until they came home again.

Fortunately, each gave Roddy a loud and boisterous welcome now, and conscious of what Roselle was trying to convey to them, asked him no questions. It was not until after lunch, when the ladies were washing up, that he took the chance of speaking to his father.

‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m not with the Rileys this weekend?’