Two of a Mind (4 page)

“Are you sure?” Matt asked. “We can always dodge out early if you're feeling tired.”

“My dear boy,” Julia answered. “I may be eighty-six but I'm not ready to become a party-pooper yet. Go and dance with Laura. The poor girl looks like she could do with rescuing.” She nodded towards her grandson's wife who was glaring wide-eyed in their direction. By her side a small rotund, slightly balding man was chatting animatedly but from Laura's expression his enthusiasm for the subject was certainly not catching. As Matt walked towards her, Laura's features softened with relief and Julia smiled contentedly. She'd been worried during Matt's transition period but he'd finally accepted the connection to his Psyche-Twin, as they were now called. The sadness of his mother's unexpected death ten years previously had been tempered by the support of his PT and the joy of his twin children. They and Laura were the loves of his life. Any tinge of jealousy that Matt was no longer hers alone was quickly overruled by Julia's pride in her little family.

“A splendid occasion, Baroness Simpson.”

Her smile became fixed and cold as she recognised the voice but good manners forbade her to ignore the man.

“Good evening Benjamin. Yes. It's a wonderful event. An apt beginning to the Year of Telepathic Twinning.”

“Full blown telepathy in two generations! Who would have guessed the ravages of war and disease could trigger such an advance?”

“Who indeed,” Julia replied with just a hint of sarcasm. “However, not quite full blown, Benjamin. Merely a single connection with one's Psyche-Twin, I believe. Although, that is enough to cope with as we‘ve seen. Well, some of us…”

“Ah yes. I heard you'd lost your son to the transition. Tragic. Tragic.” Trevalyn shook his head slowly but Julia was unable to accept the sympathetic gesture.

“Most families have suffered tragedy over the last forty years. However, yours seems to have managed a charmed existence. Tell me, Benjamin, what's your secret?” She looked intently into the face of the man she believed somehow responsible for her husband's death. A slight tightening of the skin around his eyes betrayed his anger at the barbed question but he quickly recovered his composure.

“If I knew that, my dear Julia, I could bottle it and make a fortune.”

To add to the one you've already amassed,
she thought.

Being pregnant would be easier than being a freak!

Well that's what I thought at the time. I would've gladly had triplets rather than face up to what had – or rather, hadn't – happened. That late night conversation with Dad did give me some breathing space. Although I hadn't responded to his obvious suspicions, he didn't hassle me for an answer and he kept Mum at a distance, soothing her with his ‘everything will be fine' routine.

Over the next few days we seemed to settle into some kind of normality. It was summer break from the Academy so I didn't have to find ways to hide my secret from my schoolmates. I needed to get my own reaction sorted out before I could handle anyone else's. My thank-you mails gave me the excuse to keep out of Mum's way for long periods and – much to her surprise – I decided to spring-clean my room. Strangely, it felt good to have a clear out. I'd never expected housework to be so satisfying! Sometimes, though, it threw up memories that I preferred to keep locked away – like the archived news report of Seth's mother's death stored in an old e-diary. I'd probably been looking at that entry and put the gadget away without closing it down properly for as soon as I drew the screen into the light it opened the news page automatically;

“MISSING WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN

ELLINGHAM LAKE.”

The headline still seemed to scream from the page even though the audio was switched off.

Elizabeth had been so gentle and considerate with a loving personality that charmed everyone who knew her. Even Mum relaxed in her company. Seth's inherited his mother's beautiful auburn hair but whilst his curls can't be tamed, hers fell in wonderful rich waves of warm autumn tones. She was thirty-nine when she died although, with her slight agile figure, she'd regularly been mistaken for someone much younger. It was only when you looked closely that you'd see a few fine wrinkles between her eyebrows as though she spent most of her time deep in thought. But if you caught her attention she'd smile and her amber-coloured eyes would light up with golden flashes of pleasure to see you. I feel guilty for missing her so much. Poor Seth and his dad are the ones who have to survive without her in their lives anymore.

Occasionally, before the accident, Seth would complain that Elizabeth was in one of her moods but at the time I wasn't very sympathetic, having the experience of my own regularly tetchy mother. According to Seth, Elizabeth would become withdrawn and sometimes on the verge of tears but if Seth or his dad asked her what was upsetting her she'd shake her head and give a little, self-conscious laugh.

“Oh, was I off again?” she'd say. “Don't pay any attention. Just another sad novel I'm reading.”

Once I saw her emotional reaction when the evening news reported the brutal death of a boy around our age. He'd gone missing near his home in Australia and a few days later his body was found in dingo territory.

“The poor boy.” With tears streaming down her face, she grabbed Seth and hugged him as though she never wanted to let him go.

“Gerroff!” he grumbled. The eleven-year old Seth was trying to be all grown-up – he didn't want to be seen being hugged by his mum, even though I was the only witness. Now, of course, he'd love to be able to hug her and smell her delicate, flowery perfume. Only a year later she was gone and he'd never feel her warmth again.

Now tears were streaming down my face as I closed down the e-diary. I'd been about to ditch it, thinking that the re-charger had failed, and was surprised that it still worked after so long. I hadn't entered much into the memory so it wouldn't have been a great loss but, suddenly, I couldn't bear to throw it away. At that moment I knew I had to tell Seth the truth. He deserved an explanation for my rotten behaviour. I'd been avoiding him since that trip into town. Every time he'd come to the door I'd refused to go out, giving some inadequate excuse about Academy coursework, chores, not feeling well and so on. Even Mum had commented on my rudeness towards him!

I washed my face and raked a brush through my hair. Took a steadying breath and went in search of my best friend.

***

“Hello, Dez! How are you?” asked Samuel.

“Fine, thanks, Mr Wallis. Is Seth in, please?”

“SETH!” He turned to shout up the stairs but there was no reply. “Sorry, love. To be honest, I think he might've gone to play football with some of the lads. You two had a bit of a falling-out? Haven't seen you around lately.”

“I … erm … sorry to have bothered you, Mr Wallis.” I turned to go but he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Come on in, love. Look it's raining now so I'm sure Seth'll be back soon. You can keep me company ‘til he gets home.”

I couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to refuse without seeming rude, so I followed him into the cluttered kitchen. When Elizabeth was alive, the kitchen had always been a welcoming, cosy haven with fresh baking smells that made my mouth water. She'd greet us with a smile as Seth and I came in breathless after running home from Ellingham Juniors. Then, she'd hand us warm biscuits to dunk in our milk, reminding me not to spoil my appetite or she'd be in trouble with Mum. It was still difficult to sit in that room and not see her preparing a meal or appreciating the latest work of art that Seth had produced with dried pasta and glitter.

Despite their efforts, Seth and his dad now lived the bachelor life and the house was slowly losing Elizabeth's little touches. The kitchen, whilst clean, had accumulated a collection of mechanic's tools from the workshop. There was a pile of washing on the floor by the machine, waiting for the weekly catch-up session. Work-overalls currently hung behind the back door, contributing a new aroma from the ingrained engineering fluids. Elizabeth would've given her ‘darling boys' a good telling-off, reminding them that the kitchen was for cooking, eating and enjoying company – not an extension of the workshop! She even refused to do her remote-bookkeeping in there, preferring to use a small desk in the corner of the spare bedroom rather than disturbing the heart of her home.

I'd spent most of my free time in that house and it felt natural to start sorting out the washing while Mr Wallis organised the drinks.

“It's not Seth's fault,” I said, as I programmed the eco-drive colour-wash. “It's mine. I've come to say sorry and to explain why I've been so awful to him over the past few days.”

“He'll be happy just to have you talking to each other again. He's been missing you.”

“I've missed him, too. But I needed some time to sort something out on my own.”

I thought I saw a similar look on Mr Wallis's face to the one Dad had the other night and before I could stop myself I blurted, “I'm not pregnant!”

“Oh!” He rocked back as though he'd been hit in the chest.

I blushed, realising that he hadn't even considered that option. And I'd just implied that Seth and I were having sex! We'd never even kissed properly. I groaned and buried my head in my hands.

“It's coming out all wrong,” I moaned. “We've not … You know … But I think my dad thinks we have. And it's nothing like that anyway.”

His cheeks were reddening and he was desperately tapping a teaspoon on the kitchen worktop. I clamped my mouth shut, finally realising that I was overstepping the mark. It was really Seth I should be talking to and, luckily, he came through the kitchen door breaking the awkward moment.

“Oh! Hi Dez.” His tone sounded flat. Not the usual warm friendly greeting I was used to.

“Seth.”

“Do you want a cuppa, son – tea, coffee?” Mr Wallis said with a large smile, obviously relieved to be able to change the subject.

“Thanks, Dad. Whatever's on the go.” Seth turned back to me. “Sorry, didn't know you were coming round.”

“Spur of the moment,” I replied. “Can we talk?”

“It's my night for cooking,” he said, and looked at his dad.

“Don't worry, son. I'll make a start on the supper. Do you want to stay, Dez?”

“No thanks, Mr Wallis. Mum'll be expecting me back.”

“That's just a polite way to tell me you don't fancy my bangers and mash! And I think we can drop the formalities, eh? Call me Samuel – Mr Wallis makes me feel too old nowadays!” He grinned, showing that the earlier tension was forgotten.

Seth carried the steaming mugs into the sitting room, deposited them on the ceramic coffee table and turned towards me.

“What do you want to talk about?”

In my oversensitive state it sounded like Seth was being patronising. I struggled to stay calm but I couldn't resist a little sarcasm. “The weather! What do you think?”

“Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Dez, I've been trying to give you some space but I just don't know what you want me to do any more.”

His unwitting repetition of my mother's response of the other evening stung.

“Yeah, well it's complicated. I'm sorry I've not told you what's going on but I don't really know myself yet.”

“Sometimes sharing the hurt helps. At least that's what you told me when I had it hard after Mum went. Sorry if it seems unsympathetic but I can't see what can have upset you so badly at the moment. It all started after your party. Is having a PT causing all this aggro?”

“That's just it. That's the problem. I haven't got a bloody PT!”

“Well Ms Thorogood said it might not be a full connection straight away if your PT's younger, remember?”

“It's not that. There's not even a feeling of someone waiting for their birthday. There's just nothing.”

“How can you be so sure, Dez? Everyone takes to it differently. Some people find it really difficult to accept the sense of another mind. We talked about it in tele-prep.”

“Yeah, I did listen in class you know. THERE'S NOTHING THERE! Stop making me say it over and over.”

I was crying now and couldn't understand why Seth didn't believe me. The one person I thought I could trust had let me down yet again. After disappearing at my party and keeping his PT experience to himself, he was now trying to tell me I didn't even know what was going on in my own head! I ran out of the house into the pouring rain neither knowing nor caring where I was going.

Damn Seth. Damn my stupid silent PT. Damn the whole bloody world!

What? What's going on?

“Dez. Dez, love. Can you hear me? It's Samuel. Seth, keep the rain off her as best you can. I'll call for the medics.”

I struggled to open my eyes. My mouth tasted foul; a mixture of blood, tears and gritty soil. My clothes were soaked and I felt chilled to the bone. Despite the warmth of Seth's jacket now covering me I was shivering uncontrollably. I let myself drift back into oblivion.

The next time I woke I couldn't understand where I was. I closed my eyes against the harsh, bright lights. They weren't anything like the subtle glow of my own room. There was a bleeping noise in the background and distant voices. I tried opening my eyes again. The room was pristine white – clinical. One of the walls and the adjacent door were made entirely from opaque glass. A delicate floral fragrance stirred from the crisp sheet as I shifted. I noticed the raised sides of the narrow bed and the full length sensor screen hovering above me.

Oh God! Why am I in hospital?

“Hey …” I tried to call out, but my throat was so dry that I couldn't speak above a whisper and I felt the sharp pain from a split lip.

I tried to sit up but before I could bang my head against the lowered sensor, the door opened and Mum and Dad came in, each holding a cup of steaming coffee.

“See! I told you we shouldn't have gone together for the drinks.”

“It's all right Celeste. We were only away for a minute or two.” He turned to me, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I …” I pointed to my throat.

“Just a moment.” He left the room. The glass wall and door cleared and the sensor screen lifted towards the ceiling. A male nurse waved at me from the staff station at the centre of the ward. He spoke briefly to Dad, pointing at the monitors and nodding.

“Nurse Bridges says you're doing fine,” said Dad, as he stepped back into my room. His relief was obvious from his emotional tone. He helped me to sit up. “Here you go.” His hand shook slightly as he poured some chilled water from a Kool-Jug and passed me the half-filled cup. “Just sip it. That's better.”

“You gave us such a scare! What on earth were you doing down by the lake? Poor Mr Wallis – as if he doesn't have enough bad memories about that place,” Mum said. She started plumping up the pillows and fussing around me.

I felt too tired to retaliate.

“Where's Seth?” I asked, looking to Dad for the answer.

“He's waiting in the family room with his father. Do you want to see them?”

“Yes, please.”

Mum looked disapproving but resisted commenting. She finished smoothing the sheet and went to sit on the single chair in the corner of the room. We'd not made up properly since the tea-party row but why couldn't she just give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be all right? I struggled not to cry. After the previous evening, I wasn't sure I had any tears left anyway.

Beyond the glass wall I saw Dad with Seth and Samuel, all deep in conversation as they walked together. Seth and his dad looked worried and both of them had muddy marks on their trousers. Seth's hair was wilder than ever and he had pale streaks through the dirt on his face as though he'd been crying. As I watched them approach my room I suddenly realised that Seth had grown taller than his dad. They hesitated by the door, uncertain of their welcome. Dad gently pushed them in and offered his hand to Mum, signalling that he wanted her to leave with him. She frowned but followed his lead.

“Humph,” Samuel coughed in embarrassment. “How are you feeling now, Dez?”

“Bit stupid actually, Mr Wallis. And I'm really very sorry to have put you to so much trouble.”

“Samuel, remember? Don't fret, love. Just so long as you're okay, that's all that matters. I'll leave you to it, then,” he said. He patted my hand and left to join my parents.

Seth's eyes were brimming with tears. I hadn't seen him so upset since Elizabeth had died. Then it hit me – what Mum had said about me being found by the lake.

“I'm so sorry Seth. I ran out and didn't even consider where I was going. I'd never have put you through that if I'd realised what would happen. You know that, don't you?”

He leaned towards me and we held each other tightly as waves of grief swept over us. When our joint sobbing finally subsided to an occasional shudder I fell back onto my pillow and Seth drew the chair up to the bedside.

“I'm sorry I didn't listen properly earlier, Dez. Please don't try to do anything like that again, I was so scared and it was all my fault.”

“No, Seth. I've just told you, I wasn't thinking straight. I needed to get away. It was all too much and you didn't understand what I was saying. I felt let down. Alone. Angry. I still don't know what I'm going to do about this bloody PT thing. How am I going to tell the 'rents?”

“There's no need.” He dropped his gaze, fidgeting nervously. “They already know. Dad overheard you shouting about it and he was worried that's what made you want to … When your 'rents arrived at the hospital your mum started giving me the third degree and Dad let slip that it wasn't anything I'd done. You can guess the rest.” He dropped his head in his hands.

I felt an overwhelming relief. “Thank you!”

“What?” He straightened up and looked at me in surprise.

“Oh, I don't know, it just feels like a big lump's been taken out of my chest. I could hardly breathe for the fear of telling them. Now I don't have to!”

We started laughing, dissolved into hysterics and ended up hugging again. It felt nice.

“Is it all right to come in?” said Dad from the doorway.

“Yes. Come in.” I tried to stifle the giggles. “We're good.”

“
That
is debatable!” He smiled, happy to see me laughing for the first time since my party.

“You know what I mean,” I said.

“Seriously now, Dez. Do you remember what you were doing by the lake?” He sat on the bed and took my hand.

“Not everything. But I didn't intend to do myself in, honestly.” From the corner of my eye I saw Seth frown so I quickly moved on. “I remember running in the rain. I hadn't really set out to go anywhere in particular. I just needed to let off steam, I suppose.”

“Excuse me, Mr Hanson?”

“Yes, Seth?”

“It may be that Dez slipped by accident. The grass and mud were all churned up down the banking near where we found her. Does that make sense, Dez?”

“Actually, yes … the grass was slippery with the rain … that'd explain the bruised feeling all over wouldn't it? Surely if I'd meant to kill myself …” Seth winced again. “I'd've just gone straight into the lake.”

“Excuse me,” Seth said in a choked-up voice and he rushed out of the door.

“That boy thinks the world of you. He wouldn't leave your side until your mother literally dragged him into the family room.” Dad's normally calm manner slipped and his eyes glistened.

I couldn't bear to see him on the verge of tears. “I'd've liked to have seen that,” I said.

It did the trick and he smiled at the memory. “Yes, it was something to behold – my little Celeste manhandling a resistant young man who's a good six inches taller. Even Samuel had to grin at that.”

I tried to stifle a yawn.

“I think you have had enough for now, young lady. You get some rest and we shall come back in the morning.” He was in control again – the cultured speech was back.

I looked at his watch before he removed his hand from mine. Two o'clock – the early hours of Tuesday morning!

“Sorry, Dad,” I murmured. “I didn't mean to upset you or Mum.”

“Don't worry, sweetheart. We can sort everything out tomorrow.”

As the duty nurse lowered the lighting in my room I felt myself slipping into the easiest sleep I'd had since my Sixteenth-Eve Party.

***

When I woke again the morning was bright and sunny. All the clouds had rained themselves out overnight and it was the start of a beautiful summer's day. I looked in the cupboard, hoping to find my clothes but they weren't there.

Oh no, they can't expect me to wander around in this flimsy disposable gown!

I pressed the call button and saw one of the nurses look towards my room and then at the central monitors. She briefly raised her hand but carried on with whatever she was doing. I checked to make sure the gown was covering all it should then marched out to the staff station.

“Excuse me,” I said. “When will my parents be here to take me home?”

The woman's response was cross and impatient. “Your parents will be here later this morning when visiting hours start at ten-thirty. But we don't have any discharge papers for you today so they'll have to leave for the lunch period and any further visits will be from two-thirty to five and seven to nine. Now back to bed, like a good girl.”

My mouth fell open and I stepped back as though I'd been slapped.

What does she mean no discharge papers? Who's she calling a good girl?

Because I had no choice I returned to my room but I'd be damned if I was getting back into bed. I sat on the solitary chair, fuming at the indignity of being treated like a child. Later I discovered that Nurse Marion took a dim view of anybody who was, in her words, “one of those selfish individuals who take their own lives without any consideration for others”. I think she enjoyed telling me I couldn't go home – miserable cow!

Ten-thirty finally arrived and visitors brought their flowers, fruit and chocolates to their relatives and friends. As they came through the arched doorway, each visitor was sprayed with the clinical dry disinfectant used to keep the bugs out of hospitals. I stood by my door anxiously waiting for sight of Mum and Dad. Maybe Seth would come again.

A few minutes later Dad appeared at the ward entrance. He was followed, not by Mum, but by Ms Thorogood! What was she doing here? I thought she'd be away making the most of the long summer break from the Academy. I would've run up to Dad for a hug if I hadn't been wearing that stupid hospital gown. And Ms Thorogood being there was a bit discouraging too.

“Hello Dez,” she said brightly as they reached my room.

“Hello Ms Thorogood,” I answered, a little warily.

“Morning sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes thanks. Dad. Best night in a while.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Ms Thorogood has come in to talk to you about the PT problem, Dez.”

“Oh.”
Do I take it the whole world knows?

As if reading my mind –
good trick under the circumstances!
– Ms Thorogood said, “Don't worry Dez. It's not public knowledge. Your father contacted me this morning because of my teaching sessions. He thought I might've come across this phenomenon before.”

“Have you?”

“Actually, no. But I have a friend who has and he's had some success in helping those people come to terms with it.”

“Come to terms with it? That's it? There's no cure? No switch or drug or anything that can turn it on?” I was beginning to pace around, getting agitated. Surely after having perfected the cancer and HIV vaccines the medical profession could do something for a dodgy PT connection? “You're telling me I'm an Empty freak and I've just got to get used to it?”

Dad raised his hands. “Calm down, Dez. We have to get to grips with this so that we can see a way through.”

“What do you mean ‘we'? You haven't got a problem with your PT, have you? Claude lets you discuss everything about him. He's not gone into hiding has he?”

The nurses at the staff station were beginning to take notice and one started heading towards my room. Dad waved and shook his head, smiling as if to reassure them that it was all okay in Room 4. But it wasn't. I'd thought that now this was out in the open it could be fixed – not just accepted as the way things were going to be forever.

“Dez, please let me finish,” said Ms Thorogood. “We all have your best interests at heart. We're just talking about worst-case scenario – you have to be prepared in case your particular PT connection never happens. It's rare but it's not the end of the world. You'll still be a fully functioning human being.”

“How can I be fully functioning if half my brain doesn't work?”

She carried on without responding to the exaggeration. “My friend is a respected psychotherapist and he specialises in the use of hypnotherapy. He really can help you, Dez, if you're prepared to give it a try.”

Ms Thorogood and my weary father looked at me expectantly.

“Swinging a watch and making me cluck like a chicken isn't going to find my PT connection is it?”

“Dez, you are being rude now.” Dad rarely lost his temper with me. I didn't often give him cause but I was too worked up to hear the warning tone of his voice.

“Come on Dad. You've said yourself they're a load of con artists. In it for the fame and fortune of Saturday night interactive holo-viewing!”

Ms Thorogood looked at me with a mixture of understanding and frustration. “I assure you that Alvin is not a charlatan. He dislikes the entertainment hypnotists too. Hypnotherapy's a trusted and accepted science. It helps you to tap into the strength from your subconscious.”

Even now I don't know why, but at that point I lost it. Big time!

“Don't you think I'VE GOT ENOUGH PROBLEMS WITHOUT SOMEONE ELSE MESSING IN MY HEAD!”

As my yelling escalated, I slapped my hands with increasing ferocity against the sides of my head. I didn't appreciate the irony – the problem was that I really
did
want someone else in there. The next thing I knew I was being held down by two orderlies while ‘Nasty Nurse Marion' sprayed something up my nose.

“Is that really necessary?” I heard Dad ask through my rage.