Two days later, with an uneasy conscience, Betty went shopping to find a new set of clothes for Karen. When she told Kevin where she'd been, he seemed to accept this as perfectly natural and asked to see what she'd bought.
Betty hesitated. "Later on, perhaps, after you've done a few jobs for me. I promised Mrs. Elton you'd go next door and retrieve that aeroplane - it's still perched on the roof of her shed. Also I'd also be grateful if you'd see why the bathroom door is sticking. I'm not asking you to mend it, but I need to know if it's something we can fix ourselves or if we should send for a carpenter."
"When can Karen see her new clothes?" Kevin repeated, undeterred.
"Maybe tomorrow, if you haven't got any other plans."
"Tomorrow morning, first thing?" he asked eagerly.
"We'll see. I hope Karen likes what I bought - it cost enough money!"
"I expect she will, as long as everything's new."
"Actually I was wondering whether Karen would like to sleep in her own room tonight?" Betty added quietly. "Do you think she might?"
"That's up to her. Karen can sleep where she likes for all I care!"
"Then I'll leave some clean pyjamas on your bed, and I'll put a brand new nightie out for Karen, how's that? You can decide between you who's going to sleep where."
That night, before she retired to bed, Betty looked in on both her children. Kevin's light was off, and she assumed he was already fast asleep until she saw a light shining under Karen's door. Betty found her daughter sitting up in bed reading.
"You preferred Karen's room, then? Good."
"It's bigger," replied a sleepy voice. "I only came in to see the new clothes you bought. I'm going to be me all day tomorrow."
Despite her misgivings, the welcome announcement gave Betty an undeniable thrill. Karen flung out her arms for a goodnight kiss, then settled down and closed her eyes with a contented smile.
Betty awoke the following morning to find Karen standing beside her, gently nudging her and holding a cup of tea. The girl was wearing part of her new collection - a pale green cotton dress with short sleeves and a white collar. On her feet were short white socks and a new pair of sandals.
"I made you some tea," she said. "It's my way of saying Thank You for buying me this. Do you like it?"
Karen twirled like a ballerina and stood in a graceful dancer's pose, ready to be admired. The dress looked good, but Betty was more intrigued by Karen's hair which she'd somehow brushed into a very appealing style - a feat surely beyond Kevin's ability.
"Very nice!" she admired. "You're growing up to become quite a smart young lady. What are you planning to do today?"
"I know what I'd like to do," Karen replied at once, "but I expect you'll say it costs too much."
"That depends what it is." Betty sipped her tea and it tasted good. "Did you make this?"
"Of course! Who else lives here besides us?"
"I just wondered if Kevin had a hand in it. No, of course not," she added hastily, "I expect he's still fast asleep."
"Kevin's dead," the girl announced simply. "Dead boys don't make tea."
"I don't think Kevin's actually dead, my poppet. I think he's just been allowed to evaporate for a while, don't you?"
"No, he's definitely dead. He got run over just after Christmas, remember?"
Betty knew she had to change the subject. "I don't think I'm quite ready to discuss that now. Let's talk about today!"
"Can we go shopping, please?" she begged, and began jigging up and down excitedly. "Please!" Karen knew if she repeated the word "Please" often enough, she'd eventually get her own way. "Oh, please! Please!!"
Betty sighed. "Shopping? Not again? What do we need this time?"
"I want to buy some more clothes," she persisted. "Oh, please!"
"We haven't enough money, poppet! I spent it all yesterday."
"You've got plenty of money coming in from your widow's pension and Daddy's life assurance. And besides, you haven't given me any pocket money for months! We can use what's owing to me."
"I don't altogether agree, my dear, but I'm not in the mood to argue, it's too early. What other clothes did you want?"
"Something more grown-up. I'm sick of being treated like a little girl. I bet I could look sixteen if only you'd get me the right outfit!"
"Maybe you could, my darling, but I don't want you to look sixteen just yet. You don't want to go getting yourself into trouble, do you!"
"What kind of trouble?"
"Well, surely you don't want to start attracting boys."
"Depends on the boys!" she said defiantly. "There are some I'd like to get even with! And I want to make girls jealous of my looks!"
"Well, I don't think we want to antagonise anyone, not today, do you? But there's no harm in just looking at clothes, if that's what you want?"
"Yes, please!" Karen squealed excitedly, jumping up and down again to emphasise the importance of her needs.
After breakfast they drove over to Rushbury, a market town some twenty miles away. Betty had decided it was prudent to shop further afield in case they met anyone they knew. It was wise to keep Karen's reincarnation a secret, shared only between the two of them.
"Why on earth are we going all this way?" asked Karen, kicking her sandals together with increasing impatience.
"Isn't this more fun though, shopping in a strange town where everything's new and different? What kind of shop do we want first?"
"I want grown-up shoes with high heels."
"You're not to wear anything too ridiculous," her mother insisted. "I won't allow it. I don't mind you having shoes a little more grown-up than those sandals, as long as you manage to walk in them. But high heels can damage a girl's feet, and you don't want to ruin your chances of becoming a ballerina?"
"It's so long since I did any ballet, I've almost forgotten what it's like."
Betty nodded. "And it shows in the way you stand. You used to be such a slim little waif - but now you seem to be getting heavier and more chunky every day."
Karen clucked her disapproval. "Blame Kevin! He makes me eat too much. You'd better buy me something to improve my figure too, 'cos I certainly don't want to go around looking as fat as you!"
After this cruel remark, made seemingly without remorse, Karen sat back in silence for the rest of the journey.
They found Rushbury's multi-storey car park, then walked through to the extensive shopping precinct, Karen skipping quietly along at her mother's side, and stopping every few minutes to linger in awe outside the window of any dress-shop they happened to pass. Eventually they found one that also sold shoes.
"We want a pair of size twos for this young lady," Betty explained as Karen dragged her inside. "Something with a bit of a heel, but suitable for her age."
"How old?" asked the assistant.
"Thirteen," Karen butted in with glowing confidence. "At least!"
"You've got big feet for a thirteen-year-old!" the assistant remarked. "I think we're going to need at least a size four or five!"
"I'd forgotten your feet were so big," Betty whispered as they sat alone. "Aren't those new sandals awfully tight?"
"Not really. Childish though. I need something more sophisticated."
The woman returned with a pair of open-toed sling-backs with a modest heel.
"How about these?" she asked, looking to see whether they also met with Mother's approval. "Will you be wearing them with socks, or grown-up stockings or tights?"
Karen's eyes lit up. Tights had just become a necessity. The child evidently expected to be allowed to try them on in the shop, and soon discovered this was not to be. But it was a contented Karen who, five minutes later, clumped back towards the car with her new shoes on bare feet and two pairs of tan-coloured nylons in a small carrier bag.
On the way, they happened to pass a school outfitters. Karen paused to stare longingly at the uniforms in the window, and before Betty could restrain her she darted into the shop and secured the attention of a middle-aged assistant.
"Mummy wants me to have a new school uniform," she informed the lady. "Navy-blue, of course."
"I see. And which school are we going to? The new comprehensive?"
There was no easy way for Betty to explain that Karen would be attending the Allentown boys' grammar school, so she gave an evasive reply, claiming it was still undecided.
"If I may say so, you're leaving it very late," said the woman. "If it's not the co-ed, it's probably the girls' grammar - that's where most of them are going."
Betty wanted to suggest that perhaps her child was somewhat different from the average schoolgirl. But Karen wouldn't allow any prevarication.
"It is the girls' grammar!" she insisted, jumping up and down. "You know it is, and the uniform's got to be navy-blue. Any fool knows that!"
Betty was trapped. Unable to talk sense into her wayward child, she felt her resistance crumbling. "Perhaps today we'll buy just part of the uniform," she conceded.
"We can arrange easy terms," said the eager sales-woman, "but you'd be well-advised to get everything while you can."
Betty considered inventing some story about having to emigrate, but this would only have led to further arguments. There were other customers in the shop too, all conscious of Karen's exuberance, and the last thing Betty wanted was a humiliating scene. So she relented, praying that Karen wouldn't be asked to strip down or have any embarrassing measurements taken.
Back in the car, Betty decided it was time for a serious talk with her rebellious offspring.
"Now listen to me, young Karen, or whatever your name is. I wasn't at all impressed with the way you behaved in that shop just now. You cost me a lot of money today, and I hope you feel it was worth it. I still can't understand why you're not satisfied with those nice clothes you've already got. There's a wardrobe full of dresses in your room, and you'd better try on every item when we get home. Then we can sort out what's worth keeping. Understood? No more tantrums! You'll behave like a normal little girl or I may have to send you away, you understand what I'm saying? You seem to forget your brother's going to need a uniform too! How I'm going to afford that too I really don't know. We'll have to start doing without a few treats, that's all."
"You'd have had to buy two uniforms if it hadn't been for that stupid woman and her car!"
Satisfied at having won the argument, Karen offered no further gibes during the journey home. She sat quietly sucking her thumb, while Betty reflected on the fact that she and her reincarnated daughter had been seen out together in public, and apart from the money they'd squandered, she had enjoyed every minute of it.
Back home, Betty sent Karen upstairs to change into her new outfit. She didn't offer any help, deciding that a girl of eleven ought to manage by herself. But left on her own downstairs, she soon saw the matter in a different light. What was the point in encouraging Karen to continue her existence if they didn't share every moment of their time together? So Betty crept quietly upstairs to see what was going on.
There was no sign of Karen in her bedroom, but there was someone of equal size in the bathroom. Betty knocked gently on the door.
"Are you all right in there? May I come in?"
The door opened and there stood Kevin, as grubby and unkempt as if he'd spend an entire week living in a tree.
"Where have you been?" he asked with boyish impatience. "I'm trying to fix this door, but I need someone to drag the steps out of the shed. Didn't you hear me calling?"
"No, Kevin, I did not. What happened to Karen, may I ask?"
The reply was blunt. "You mean the real one?" he sniffed dismissively. "She died!"
"You know perfectly well what I mean," said Betty crossly. "I've just wasted a lot of money trying to give Karen the clothes she asked for. I think you know her behaviour today left a lot to be desired, and I'm certainly not letting that money go to waste. Didn't I send you to Karen's room to try on her new uniform?"
"What's the point, if she's not allowed to wear it to school?"
"Then why in God's name did you insist we buy it? It's all very well, playing games like this between ourselves in the house - and even going out in public as we did today - but you can't seriously imagine I'm letting Karen attend school next term, wearing the clothes we've just bought?"
"So why did you want her to try them on?"
"Because I want something in return for my money, that's why! I don't think that's unreasonable. At least I might have the satisfaction of seeing how Karen would have looked in her uniform, even if she doesn't attend school."
Kevin paused thoughtfully. "If Karen goes and tries everything on," he bargained, "will you hand over the six-months' pocket-money you owe?"
"Don't talk nonsense, Kevin! We've already spent more than we can afford today, and I'm not made of money! If you don't want to co-operate, then everything we bought today goes straight back tomorrow. It's up to you."
"You mean it's up to Karen," he corrected her. "But don't worry - I'll talk some sense into her, I generally can. You know what girls are like. You used to be one yourself!"
"As you wish. But I want to see Karen in her new uniform before anyone goes to bed tonight. Is that clear?"
Kevin didn't reply, so Betty went downstairs, hoping that if he was left alone he might do as she asked. She listened for the sound of footsteps in Karen's bedroom, turning over in her mind the shameful realisation that Karen had always been the more precious of her two children, a fact confirmed when, ten minutes later, Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking radiantly happy and stunningly attractive in her new school outfit.
"Doesn't this look good?" the girl exclaimed, entering like a graceful swan. "I can hardly wait for school to begin."
Asked to turn around, Karen revolved slowly like an expensive car in a dealer's showroom.
"Does it feel comfortable?" asked Betty.
Karen nodded happily. "I think my hair needs attention. Why must my brother keep messing it up for me?"
"You know what boys are!" Betty remarked, tempted to echo the point that Karen used to be one herself!
"They don't understand, do they!" Karen remarked loftily. "Girls instinctively care about their appearance. Boys rarely seem to bother."
"Your brother doesn't, that's for sure! Come on, poppet. Sit on the sofa in the other room and I'll make it all nice again."
Karen went with her mother and sat patiently while her hair was lovingly brushed.
"Did you spend an awful lot of money today?" she asked.
Betty divulged the sum and her daughter whistled, her eyes widening in amazement.
"It'll be worth it, you'll see. I promise I won't let this get dirty when I go to school."
"Yes. We still need to talk about that," replied Betty, not wishing to destroy the image she'd worked so hard to achieve. "But school doesn't start for several weeks, so let's not spoil the holidays!"
"It was fun today!" Karen said emphatically. "I'm glad I'm not completely dead."
"So am I. And you won't be, as long as you keep coming to visit me."
"When can I start ballet again?"
Betty eyed her warily. "You'll be horribly out of practice, dear - you haven't been for months."
"It doesn't matter. I keep practising at home."
"I can't say I've noticed! Show me something now - something you used to do in Miss Owen's class."
Responding to the challenge, Karen got up and began pirouetting around the room in a manner that astonished her mother, as it certainly wasn't one of Kevin's known accomplishments. Such a display of delicacy and poise could only have been given by her daughter.
"Well?" asked Karen, pausing for breath and approval. "How was that?"
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"At dancing school, of course!"
Betty stalled for time by suggesting that her daughter might like to go upstairs and put on ballet tights and a leotard, whereupon Karen darted eagerly out of the room, pausing for a moment at the foot of the stairs. "If I do, can I dance to some music in the garden?"
Without waiting for an answer Karen then bounded up to her room, but when Betty followed some twenty minutes later to find out why she hadn't reappeared, she found Kevin standing proudly beside the bathroom door.
"Look! I didn't need the steps after all," he smiled. "See, it won't stick any more! Try it."
Sure enough the door worked as smoothly as the day they'd moved in.
"Good work, Kevin! Thank you. But what happened to Karen?"
Kevin lifted a quizzical eyebrow. "She died last January," he replied sadly, "though, of course, she isn't actually dead. She often comes and talks to me. She was here just now, if you're interested, telling me about dancing lessons and starting her new school, that sort of thing. She says you've bought her uniform. Can I see it?"
Betty sensed that her son was deliberately taunting her.
"I think you've already seen it, Kevin, in fact I seem to remember you trying it on."
"What? Karen's uniform?"
Behind his snort of mildly amused laughter, Betty noted a hint of genuine scorn. Was the boy playing games, or was he really unaware of what happened when he became Karen?
"Karen seems to think you've been trying on some of her clothes!" said Betty.
"How can she?" he replied. "Karen's dead."
"Must you keep saying that?" Betty shouted. "I don't like it. You keep saying she talks to you. How can she, if she's dead?"
"I mean, her body's dead, silly, not her soul. She's still here with us, honest! Twins know these things. That's why she begs me to try on her clothes, so she can feel what they're like next to her body."
"But it's your body, Kevin, not hers," Betty argued.
"Only when I'm in it! She's welcome to use it whenever she wants to. You always said we should share things."
"Kevin, two people can't share the same body, especially when they're of opposite sexes. Karen had a girl's body. You've got a boy's body. You know very well what I'm talking about!"
"Yes, and Karen finds it very strange having a winkie," he said. "She's bound to feel awkward at school, being different from the other girls. You'd better write to the headmistress and explain."
"I'll do no such thing, Kevin. For the last time, let me assure you Karen is NOT going to school. This charade involving Karen and you is a private secret between us two. We're certainly never going to mention it to anyone else outside this family, is that clear? And there's something else I want agreed between us. I don't want Karen coming and going every five minutes whenever she pleases. I can't cope - it's too upsetting, trying to live a normal kind of life with all this uncertainty!"
"We each came and went before the accident. You never minded then!"
"Well, I'm minding now. So for the remainder of the holidays I'd like to arrange a timetable. We'll have Kevin here all week, from Monday morning up until Friday evening, then it's Karen's turn all day Saturday and Sunday. You're to stop this constant chopping and changing. Is that clear?"
"Good, then I shan't have to worry about Karen for three more days!"
"That's fair enough," Betty agreed. "After all, you are my son; you have a right to live here and enjoy being Kevin. But from now on, on a Saturday or Sunday, we see only Karen, not Kevin. Is that clear?"
"It is to me, but if we're to share things equally, five days for me and two for her isn't fair, so you'd better apologise next time you see her. But of course, you can't do that till Saturday, so you've got plenty of time to think out what you're going to say!"
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