and slicing, and detaching two tiny living creatures… It was something you ought really to share only with your husband, that intimacy. She wondered if Martin Brannan had any children, and then she wondered whether he was married, and supposed he was.
‘There’s a wealth of stuff written about these cases,’ said Martin. ‘Oh, listen, though, keep off the medical side, won’t you? It’s graphic and distressing at times, and you won’t have the necessary detachment. And it can be confusing. Concentrate on the personalities and the successes. The twins who were separated and lived normal lives—even the twins who weren’t separated and still lived reasonable lives.’
‘I’d quite like to do that,’ said Mel thoughtfully. ‘If I knew about other cases—other parents—I don’t think I’d feel so isolated.’
‘Mel—’ In some subtle way they seemed to have travelled beyond the Mrs Anderson/Mr Brannan stage by this time, although Mel had not quite ventured to call him Martin yet. ‘Mel, you aren’t isolated,’ he said. ‘Nor are the twins isolated.’
‘Simone and Sonia,’ said Mel, suddenly aware of the inner delight again at remembering the girls’ names. ‘We’re going to call them Simone and Sonia.’
‘Nice,’ he said, giving her the sudden smile. ‘Simone Anderson and Sonia Anderson. I like that very much.’
Joe thought Mel was being morbid, reading up all those accounts of joined twins. Dear goodness, he said, why must she bury herself in the lives of all those sad grotesque creatures, most of whom had lived in the days before medical science was really developed? To his way of thinking it was downright dismal; his mother had said exactly the same thing as a matter of fact. Nature had a way of taking care of things, Mel would see. They would wait for the birth, and the chances were that everything would be all right.
‘But it can’t be all right,’ said Mel. ‘All the scans and the tests show that the twins are definitely joined. They aren’t going to become unjoined.’
But Joe had no opinion of scans and tests, and he had no opinion of clever young doctors who frightened people half to death. What Mel needed was cheering up, he said. Would she not like a little shopping trip to one of the big department stores for baby outfits? They might go along this very morning. Marks & Spencer, or British Home Stores. They would have a bite of lunch in the BHS coffee shop.
Mel looked at him, and thought, I wanted a soul-mate, a sensuous impetuous lover: someone who would plunder the love-poems of the centuries and quote rose romance verse to me by passion-filled firelight, or whisk me away to Paris’s Left Bank or Samarkand or the Isles of Avalon at a moment’s notice. What did I actually get? Joe Anderson, who gives me verbatim reports of town planning meetings, and thinks the height of dissipation is lunch at British Home Stores.
She said, ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here, I think.’
Even if she had wanted to fight Saturday-morning shopping crowds she did not want to go shopping with Joe, who was apt to be embarrassingly bluff with shop assistants, and tell them his name with unnecessary loudness in the hope that they would recognize him as a prominent member of the local Council. What she really wanted to do was to stay in the warm, well-lit study, and read the books she had borrowed from the local library about all those other twins who had beaten the odds. She wanted to try to visualize them, and to imagine how their parents had felt and behaved and reacted.
‘I do wish you’d read some of this for yourself,’ she said. ‘It’s very reassuring. A lot of those twins managed to lead really interesting lives—remarkably so—and most of them adapted in extraordinary ways. It’s only comparatively recently that medical science has been able to cope with this condition, of course, so most of them had to stay joined. But there were twin girls who appeared in
‘There’s a wealth of stuff written about these cases,’ said Martin. ‘Oh, listen, though, keep off the medical side, won’t you? It’s graphic and distressing at times, and you won’t have the necessary detachment. And it can be confusing. Concentrate on the personalities and the successes. The twins who were separated and lived normal lives—even the twins who weren’t separated and still lived reasonable lives.’
‘I’d quite like to do that,’ said Mel thoughtfully. ‘If I knew about other cases—other parents—I don’t think I’d feel so isolated.’
‘Mel—’ In some subtle way they seemed to have travelled beyond the Mrs Anderson/Mr Brannan stage by this time, although Mel had not quite ventured to call him Martin yet. ‘Mel, you aren’t isolated,’ he said. ‘Nor are the twins isolated.’
‘Simone and Sonia,’ said Mel, suddenly aware of the inner delight again at remembering the girls’ names. ‘We’re going to call them Simone and Sonia.’
‘Nice,’ he said, giving her the sudden smile. ‘Simone Anderson and Sonia Anderson. I like that very much.’
Joe thought Mel was being morbid, reading up all those accounts of joined twins. Dear goodness, he said, why must she bury herself in the lives of all those sad grotesque creatures, most of whom had lived in the days before medical science was really developed? To his way of thinking it was downright dismal; his mother had said exactly the same thing as a matter of fact. Nature had a way of taking care of things, Mel would see. They would wait for the birth, and the chances were that everything would be all right.
‘But it can’t be all right,’ said Mel. ‘All the scans and the tests show that the twins are definitely joined. They aren’t going to become unjoined.’
But Joe had no opinion of scans and tests, and he had no opinion of clever young doctors who frightened people half to death. What Mel needed was cheering up, he said. Would she not like a little shopping trip to one of the big department stores for baby outfits? They might go along this very morning. Marks & Spencer, or British Home Stores. They would have a bite of lunch in the BHS coffee shop.
Mel looked at him, and thought, I wanted a soul-mate, a sensuous impetuous lover: someone who would plunder the love-poems of the centuries and quote rose romance verse to me by passion-filled firelight, or whisk me away to Paris’s Left Bank or Samarkand or the Isles of Avalon at a moment’s notice. What did I actually get? Joe Anderson, who gives me verbatim reports of town planning meetings, and thinks the height of dissipation is lunch at British Home Stores.
She said, ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here, I think.’
Even if she had wanted to fight Saturday-morning shopping crowds she did not want to go shopping with Joe, who was apt to be embarrassingly bluff with shop assistants, and tell them his name with unnecessary loudness in the hope that they would recognize him as a prominent member of the local Council. What she really wanted to do was to stay in the warm, well-lit study, and read the books she had borrowed from the local library about all those other twins who had beaten the odds. She wanted to try to visualize them, and to imagine how their parents had felt and behaved and reacted.
‘I do wish you’d read some of this for yourself,’ she said. ‘It’s very reassuring. A lot of those twins managed to lead really interesting lives—remarkably so—and most of them adapted in extraordinary ways. It’s only comparatively recently that medical science has been able to cope with this condition, of course, so most of them had to stay joined. But there were twin girls who appeared in
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