‘I think you’re old enough to hear this,’ Mum said, ‘so I want you to pay close attention.’

We both sat up in bed. Was this going to be another story, despite what she said? Whatever it was, it was exciting.

‘You are identical twins,’ she said. We knew that. Of course we knew that. It made us rare and extremely special. We didn’t say anything, though. Just waited. ‘Brother and sister,’ she continued, ‘with an unbreakable bond between you. It’s a marvellous thing. A most marvellous thing.’

I swallowed a yawn. I was tired and this wasn’t very interesting or exciting after all. Well, so far. Of course we were special. I’d always known that.

‘But it also means you have responsibilities towards each other,’ she said. ‘Responsibilities means having sometimes to do things you might not want to do to help and protect the other. Do you know what I mean?’

We both nodded, but I’m not sure either of us quite got it. Maybe that was why Mum gave an example.

‘Let’s say I did leave the candle in here and Ashleigh knocked it over in the night …’ I opened my mouth to protest, but Mum held up a hand in the stop position, so I did. ‘And you woke, Aiden, to the bedroom on fire. What’s the first thing you’d do?’

‘I’d wake Ashleigh and get her out of the bedroom.’

‘Yes. Good. Why?’

‘Because she’s my sister and I have to protect her.’

Mum beamed, leaned over and stroked Aiden’s cheek. A stab of jealousy made me flinch. I could have answered that question. That small sliver of affection was rightfully mine and I felt the pain of its absence.

‘That’s what being brother and sister means,’ she said. ‘It’s what family means. There’s an old saying, children. Siblings are there to catch you when you fall. If something goes wrong – and it doesn’t have to be something big, like a fire; it could be just one of you feeling sad, or having a bit of a bad time – then the other should always be there to help. Always! That’s what I mean about responsibilities. You, Aiden, must always be there to catch Ashleigh if she falls.’ He nodded.

‘And I’ll catch Aiden,’ I said. ‘He’s falling all the time.’ That’s because he’s so clumsy, I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud.

‘Yes,’ said Mum. ‘You must promise me that you’ll always look after each other.’

We made that promise with all of a six-year-old’s solemnity. Later, after Mum had blown out the candle and left us to our sleep, Aiden’s hand reached across the darkness between our beds and took mine. He could be so childish, like when he called Mum, Mamma.

We fell asleep holding hands, the lightning flashing silver and black and the thunder playing drumrolls on the bedroom window.

1

Aiden tried to hold my hand, but I was too old for that. So was he, obviously. I kicked him gently in the foot and he let go, but not before everyone must have seen. Just what I needed on our first day. I wiped the hand he’d held on my dress and clasped both hands behind my back. My face burned and the more I thought about it burning, the hotter it got. Great. Just great.