Gossamer Cord

But that might be my imagination again. His daughter was marrying into a family in Cornwall whose position was similar to his own. And I supposed that was something most fathers would want for their daughters. It was really all very satisfactory.

When we rose from the table the carol singers arrived. I heard them in the courtyard. We all went out to greet them as we had every Christmas I remembered. We sang with them, “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing,” “Once in Royal David’s City,” all the carols which we knew so well. The singers came into the hall where Mrs. Mills was waiting with the mince pies and mulled wine.

“Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas…” The words echoed round the hall.

“Long life and happiness to Miss Dorabella.”

Dorabella, flushed, excited, beamed on them all. Dermot was beside her and everyone said what a beautiful bride she would make to stand beside such a handsome bridegroom.

At last the singers had departed and my mother said: “Now it is time for bed, I should say. We have a big day tomorrow.”

We retired to our rooms. I undressed and got into bed. I felt a certain sadness. This was the end of an era. Tomorrow she would be not so much my twin sister as Dermot’s wife.

I was not entirely surprised when she came to me. She stood by the bed. In her blue nightdress with dressing gown to match, her hair about her shoulders, she looked very young and in some ways vulnerable.

“Hello, Vee,” she said.

“Hello,” I replied.

“It’s cold out here.” She took off her dressing gown and let it fall to the floor, then she leaped in beside me.

We laughed.

“You all right?” I asked.

Her arms were tight about me. “H’m,” she murmured.

“You don’t sound sure. You’re not going to call the whole thing off, are you?”

She laughed. “You’re joking!”

“Nothing would surprise me with you.”

“No. I’m wildly, ecstatically happy.”

“Are you?”

“Well…”

“A little scared?”

“Perhaps.”

“They say marriage is a big undertaking.”

“Dermot will be all right. I can look after him.”

“You usually can, as you say, look after people.”

“As I have looked after you all these years?”

“Now it is you who are joking. As I remember, I did most of the looking after.”

“Yes, you have, dear sister. That’s true. And what I want is for you to go on doing it.”

“What! From miles away?”

“That’s what I don’t like about this…being miles away. It won’t be the same, will it?”

“Of course not! Talk sense. How could it be? You won’t be Miss Dorabella Denver any more. You’ll be Mrs. Dermot Tregarland.”

“I know.”

“Dorabella? Seriously, you are not having second thoughts, are you? It is rather late.”

“Oh, no. It’s just that I wish you were coming with me.”

“What! To Venice? A honeymoon à trois! I wonder what Dermot would think about that?”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant afterwards. I wish you were coming to Cornwall.”

“I shall come for a visit.”

“You will, won’t you? Often…”

“And you will come here.”

“Yes, there is that. But…I’d like you to be there all the time.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re a big girl now. You don’t need your alter ego there beside you all the time.”

“That’s just it. I do. I have been feeling this for some time. We are like one person. When you think of all that time before we were born…when most children are alone…we were there…growing together. We’re part of each other. There is something between us, something other people can’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly.”

“Of course you do. You are part of it. You were always there. Do you remember that frightful Miss Dobbs at school? She was always trying to separate us. ‘You must stand on your own feet, Dorabella.’ Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember.”

“I hated her because she wouldn’t let us sit together.”

“And you could not do your sums.”

“Which you were clever at, of course.”

“You would have been all right if you had tried. Miss Dobbs was right. You should have stood on your own feet.”

“Why should I, when I had yours to stand on? And you know, you liked me to. You were always pleased when I couldn’t do those ghastly old lessons without you. You would click your tongue…just like Miss Dobbs. ‘You are really hopeless, Dorabella.’ I can hear your voice now and see the smile of satisfaction on your face while I copied your sums. You were an old swot. You liked to score over me, you liked it when I couldn’t do without you.”

We were laughing together. It was true. I had always wanted her to lean on me. She might charm them, but I could win admiration with my superior scholarship. At least I had that!

Then we began: “Do you remember…?” And we rocked with laughter. There was so much to remember.

I heard the clock in the tower chime midnight.

I said: “Listen. This is your wedding day.”

“Yes,” she said and held me tightly.

“Fancy you, a married woman!”

“It will be wonderful, won’t it?” She spoke lightly but I fancied she was asking for reassurance.

“I know what’s the matter with you,” I said. “It’s something they call prewedding nerves.”

“Is that what it is?”

“I’m sure of it.”