Twin Tales Read online

  Connie wouldn’t look, Connie wouldn’t listen. When Mum and Dad and the twins came to fetch her, Gran whispered to Mum that Connie had been a ‘bit of a madam’.

  Connie felt this was most unfair. She felt cross for the rest of Sunday. But she cheered up at school on Monday. She sat next to her best friend Karen. Karen had a baby sister called Susie, who screamed a lot. Karen drew a silly picture of Susie on the back of her school jotter.

  Connie and Karen got the giggles.

  Connie was still smiling when she met up with Mum at the school gate.

  ‘You look in a good mood for once,’ said Mum. ‘Come on, we’re in a hurry. I’ve got to take the twins to be weighed at the baby clinic.’

  ‘The baby clinic?’ said Connie.

  ‘Will Nurse Meade be there?’ ‘She should be,’ said Mum.

  ‘Great!’ said Connie. ‘She’s magic.’

  5. Giant Gerbil

  ‘Hello, Nurse Meade! Remember me?’ said Connie, running up to Nurse Meade.

  ‘Of course I remember you, Connie,’ Nurse Meade laughed, and all the little blue glass beads on the ends of her plaits twinkled.

  ‘You’ve still got all your pretty plaits,’ said Connie.

  ‘With my special blue glass beads,’ said Nurse Meade, and she winked at Connie.

  Connie winked back. She wasn’t very good at winking. She had to crease up half of her face in the process.

  ‘Connie, are you making faces at Nurse Meade?’ said Mum, shocked.

  ‘She’s just being friendly. We’re special friends, Connie and me,’ said Nurse Meade. ‘How about helping me weigh your little brother and sister then, Connie? Off with their nappies and into the scales.’

  They weighed Claire first. She disgraced herself by doing a little wee in the scales. Mum got all embarrassed but Nurse Meade only laughed.

  Then they weighed Charles. He wasn’t going to let Claire outdo him. He did a little wee too. This time Nurse Meade had to dodge out of the way! She laughed even more. Connie laughed so much she had to clutch her sides and stagger.

  ‘I’m going to wear my swimming costume next time I weigh these two,’said Nurse Meade.

  Connie stopped laughing. Nurse Meade looked thoughtful. Mum was busy mopping Claire and Charles and getting them dressed.

  ‘Lots of people take their babies swimming now,’ said Nurse Meade, cleaning her scales.

  ‘Yes, I take Claire and Charles,’ said Mum, trying to sound casual.

  ‘And do they like it?’ asked Nurse Meade, washing her hands.

  ‘They love it,’ said Mum. She glanced worriedly at Connie.

  Nurse Meade was watching Connie carefully too.

  ‘Do you like swimming, Connie?’ asked Nurse Meade.

  ‘No. I hate it,’ said Connie.

  ‘Is that so?’ said Nurse Meade. ‘Hey, your hair’s grown quite a bit since I last saw you. Do you ever wear it in little plaits like me?’

  ‘They’re too fiddly for me to fix myself – and Mum’s always too busy,’ said Connie. ‘I loved it when you gave me a little plait, Nurse Meade.’

  ‘Do you want me to give you just one little plait now?’ asked Nurse Meade.

  ‘Yes, please!’

  ‘With a couple of my blue glass beads to keep it in place?’ asked Nurse Meade. She took two out of the pocket of her blue dress and held them up to the light. They sparkled a deep bright blue. A familiar frightening colour. Connie suddenly shivered.

  ‘What’s up, Connie? You loved my beads last time,’ Nurse Meade said gently.

  ‘Yes, but . . . they’re swimming-pool blue. And I hate that colour now.’ Connie hesitated. Nurse Meade started plaiting a lock of her hair. ‘I’m a little bit scared of swimming, actually,’ Connie mumbled.

  ‘Is that so?’ said Nurse Meade, still plaiting, as if it was no big deal at all. ‘Ah well. We’re all scared of something.’

  ‘Dad gets cross with me. And Mum’s ever so tactful but she really thinks I’m a baby. And Gran says I’ve got a phobia,’ said Connie.

  ‘I get the picture,’ said Nurse Meade. ‘Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Connie. I have a feeling things will somehow sort themselves out.’ She finished the plait, holding it together with her finger and thumb. ‘I can find a bit of ribbon for you if youreally don’t want to wear my blue beads.’

  Nurse Meade looked at Connie. Connie looked back at Nurse Meade.

  ‘A ribbon wouldn’t be anywhere near as . . . magic,’ said Nurse Meade.

  ‘I’d like the blue beads after all, please,’ said Connie.

  Nurse Meade twisted them into place. Connie couldn’t see them when she looked straight ahead but when she turned her head quickly she saw a little blue spark bob up over her ear. Connie still didn’t like being reminded of swimming-pools – but the beads were beautiful.

  ‘I see Nurse Meade’s given you some of her beads again,’ said Mum.

  ‘Yes. They’re magic,’ said Connie, very hopefully indeed.

  ‘Were you talking about being scared of swimming to Nurse Meade?’ said Mum on their way home from the clinic.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Connie, not wanting to talk about it now.

  ‘I know you’re very scared and it must be horrible for you.’ Mum insisted on talking about it. ‘I do understand, darling. But you must see that there’s really nothing to be scared of, not in the baby pool.’

  ‘And boring old baby Charles and baby Claire bob up and down in it like little ducks. Why can’t you all just shut up about it?’

  Mum was now very cross indeed so when they got home Connie stomped off by herself into the back garden. She twiddled the two blue beads on her new plait. She was sick of Mum. She wished for two new twin mums. But the magic didn’t seem to work this time. No new mums appeared though Connie looked all around hopefully. She twiddled the beads once more. ‘Come on, you’re meant to be magic!’

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ said a voice over the fence.

  It was Gerald, the big boy next door. He certainly wasn’t magic, but Connie liked him all the same.

  ‘Come on, my little beauties,’ muttered Gerald.

  ‘Who are you talking to, Gerald?’ asked Connie.

  ‘My gerbils have had babies. Want to see them?’

  ‘Oooh yes,’ said Connie.

  The baby gerbils were very cute indeed. They were more like toddler gerbils, bright-eyed and alert, with fluffy coats and long tickly tails.

  ‘They’re lovely,’ said Connie, enchanted. ‘Let me hold one, please.’

  ‘Well, be careful. Don’t drop it!’

  ‘Of course I won’t.’ Connie held her hands out over the fence and Gerald gently dropped a soft little baby gerbil into her palm.

  ‘Oooh, it’s so sweet!’ Connie whispered.

  ‘You can have one if you promise to look after it properly,’ said Gerald.

  ‘I don’t think my mum would let me. I don’t think she likes gerbils. She’s mad. They’re the cutest little animals ever. But ever so tickly!’ The gerbil was running up her arm and into the tunnel of her T-shirt sleeve. ‘Hey, come back!’ said Connie, giggling. ‘Gerald, it’s escaping!’

  Gerald sighed. ‘I told you to hold on to it. Wait a minute. I’ll have to secure the others before I can help.’

  Connie’s gerbil was whizzing down her leg and was off up the lawn before she could stop it.

  ‘Come back, little gerbil!’ Connie called, running.

  The gerbil scampered across the patio and in through the open back door. There was a sudden scream. A very loud frantic s-c-r-e-a-m.

  ‘That’s Mum,’ said Connie, running harder.

  Mum was in the kitchen, climbing right up the cupboards, her head nearly banging the ceiling. She was yelling her head off.

  The gerbil was on the tiled floor, peering up at Mum. It didn’t look such a baby now. In fact it seemed very big for an adult gerbil. It seemed to be growing rapidly. It was a good cat-size now, with huge pointed teeth and an immense quiver