I have two little sisters. They're not 'little' as such.
They're 40-something and not even shorter than me – only my mum is shorter than
me – but they are younger, so they shall be forever little to me. Anyway, they are also twins which makes them slightly
bonkers. It always has done, and I've always found it fascinating. Even though
they're grown and have families of their own now, the 'twinniness', as our older
sister first coined it, hasn't let up.
They have this psychic thing. Granted, they shared a womb and
a bedroom their entire childhood, some of the same teachers and of course, many
of the same friends, so they're bound to be in tune. And they look the same. Exactly the same. Having
someone who shares every one of your features has got to bond you to them,
right there, hasn't it?
But it's more than that.
They have had those weird unexplainable shared moments and shared
pain, such as when one had a medical emergency in Italy and the other felt it in
Wales, pre- mobiles, pre- even entertaining the idea of calling from abroad because
it was way too expensive. They've bought the same clothes without realising and
yet, somewhat surprisingly, they don't have the same taste.
The previous episode to make me gasp before this morning's, just-too-weird moment, was on the day of the launch party for Glass Houses.
One was coming up to Yorkshire from the South of England and the other from
South Wales. Both aimed to arrive 'around mid-afternoon'. Neither of them has
tendencies to lateness – ahem, that's just me – but one is much more punctual
than the other. The less punctual one rang the second, hands-free, to ask how
she was getting on. Struggling! She was going to stop at the next services. How
funny, says the first. It was exactly what she was thinking and she was only two
miles away from being able to stop. Me, too! says the second. And they laughed at sharing yet another nugget
of 'twinniness'.
Now, bear in mind that both sisters would join the M1 eventually
but neither until the second part of their journeys and they hadn't discussed
what time they'd leave their respective homes nor their ETA at my house. So
when one says, Hang on a minute, isn't your registration '*$!"?~%'?, she
wasn't expecting to see her (identical looking) sister at the wheel of the car immediately
in front, now glancing in her rear view mirror as both stop talking and gasp because
they are one behind the other, at the exact same time, on the exact same
section of motorway, both craving a drink (and they're not like me, the
kettle back on, the moment the previous cup of tea is gone) having set off from
homes over 100 miles from each other. Well, that blew my mind.
But this, this is even better than that.
Today I get two pieces of post. One from each sister. They
are lovely and I can happily report that all four of us sisters are very
close, but we don’t send each other post every week. It's high days and holidays
at most, so that in itself made me smile.
On closer examination, I see that one sister was rushing or multi-tasking
when she addressed the envelope because it contained only my house number,
street and the name of our tiny village. No town or postcode, let alone county.
Consequently, the letter, a thank you for a present given in September, had taken
a while to get to us. Although I must say, well done to the super sleuths
of the Post Office and thank them for their determination as the letter had been to two other
counties first.
Next comes the other sister's mail which is a Christmas
card. This wasn't just any old Christmas card however, this had flashing lights
and a picture frame type stand, because we both LOVE a bit of Christmas bling.
We all send each other Christmas cards, and granted, of our entire family,
barring perhaps one auntie, my Christmas cards are always the last to arrive,
but still, I have never, ever in my 49 years on this wonderful planet, known
any member of my super-sized family to send a Christmas card in October.
Something, some external force, and what I can only label as
extreme 'twinniness' decided that this year, on that day, my sister was going to
send me a Christmas card before Halloween and that card would arrive on the
same day as a letter which had taken a very circuitous route to get to me.
This is the madness of twins.
And I think this is why a twin has crept into the first
draft of my latest novel. This twin arrived unannounced and bears no
resemblance to either twin in looks or temperament. And (s)he – no clues – may not
survive the first edit cull, but for now, (s)he's amusing me.
So, are you a twin? Do you have twins in your lives? Please
do share your stories - I do love a good 'twin' story😊
