The day after my sister killed herself – I decided to kill him. He deserved it. It is in my power to make it happen slowly and insidiously. His death would be miserable, horrible and lonely.
I have the ability to send a death charge through his veins, short circuit round his brain and invade his nervous system. His T cells wouldn’t know what had hit them. And neither would anyone else.
It would be like an AIDS related illness, with the small part that I had played in it long forgotten. His immune system would be at war, with the good guys killing each other. I would watch from a distance, confident that the horror Terry Daniels had wreaked in the lives of my beloved twin and myself was avenged.
Paula and I were twenty five. We were not identical, but separated in birth by only three minutes. It was quite a rush job at the time. We were never dressed in matching outfits and few people knew of our complete bonding. Of course we had different friends and careers, but we always knew what was happening with our soul mate. I felt when she was tired, happy, hungry even and she did the same for me.
We differed with our men and I wasn’t jealous because she was more beautiful. I had the brains and had forged ahead with a career. I think Paula would have been content with marriage and a family, but for me this wasn’t to be and after the Spring of 2005 I had put all my energies into my job.
I left the white envelope on the table whilst I prepared dinner. I even had a glass of Soave to drink with it. It turned out that I was toasting the most devastating news anyone could receive. My eyes blurred as I read ‘’Dear Miss Carter, …something something Syndrome, please come in for blood tests.’’ I checked, it was for me, Pamela, definitely. Yes, definitely. Paula was late, but she rushed in the door anxious, wanting to know what had happened. We gazed at the letter, why only me?
We both sat in the office of young, kind and very keen Dr W. Goodman. Both our bloods had been very carefully taken and tested. Paula had wanted to keep me company and she was clear. I was the specimen on Dr Goodman’s glass dish. They had traced us from a distant relative. In these days of computers and genetics, nothing is too difficult and I was the unlucky one who had the rogue chromosome which gave me this something …ishman Linz syndrome. It was an unpronounceable name with z’s and x’s and y’s and we referred to it as “IT”.
‘It skips generations and misses siblings, we don’t know why yet, but I’d like to do my PhD on it, with your help Miss Carter.’
Bully for him. He then asked at what age my grandparents had died. We stared at him, ‘They haven’t – do you expect them to die young?’ I asked horrified, ‘will I die young?’
Solemnly he gazed at me across his desk, his fingers steepled together. ‘We don’t know, but it is an auto immune disease, your good blood cells fight each other, in a relapse they run amok, but,’ a pause, ‘we have noticed, for those children born with it, a certain immunity can develop and the progress of the disease can be very slow, even non-existent. But, and I must warn you, for anyone contracting the disease, particularly men, it can make a violent impact upon their body. The symptoms can be a bit like AIDS, and the prognosis is similar. There are no real cures and that is why I’m telling you now.’
I was horrified, he is telling me not to have children, and even, not to have a boyfriend. I felt Paula squeeze my hand.
‘Am I a social pariah, must I avoid all contact with people?’
‘No, no need, but it is transmitted by blood contact. We’re not sure how, our mice studies are not completed yet. When I can tell you more, I will. I’m very sorry Miss Carter, it must be a shock.’
Paula and I looked at each other. What a stupid thing to say I thought and she nodded. Let’s get out of here she signalled and I moved to escape that dreary room.
My job kept me going over the next months and I was pleased to know that Paula had met a man at work and was really happy. I didn’t see a lot of her, she was out at nights, and I worked weekends. I had a course booked near Windsor and had no thoughts of anything else. Promotion was in sight, a better salary, even a partnership.
I was away for two days, and when I came home the house was still, quiet and cold. I looked round, Paula must be out, but I felt a terrible sense of unease. I let my brain relax to be free to communicate with her and I tried to open up like we usually did. There was nothing there. Puzzled I stood at the foot of the stairs and then ran up, bursting into her room. She was lying in bed, on her side. A glass was on the table and my whole body went into a spasm. Never again will I feel pain like it. My heart stopped, I fell on the bed and cradled her head in my hands. She was so cold, so nothing.
‘Pauly, Pauly why, why!’ I sobbed, ‘tell me, tell me!’ I screamed. I pulled at my hair and flung the glass at the wall. I scrabbled in the drawer and found the bottles of tranquillisers. Then I saw a piece of paper, which had fluttered down from her nerveless fingers. ‘’Darling Pam, I’m pregnant, he doesn’t want it or me. I want him and it.”
Oh the bastard, she can’t have been very advanced, I’d have known. Selfish Pam, so full of your job and yourself. Where was I when she needed me? Drinking and playing power games in Windsor.
I went through all the formalities in a calm manner, my face expressionless. The girls in her office told me whom she had been seeing. Terry Daniels and his wife came, actually came to the funeral service. You two-faced, hypocritical bastard, does marriage mean nothing to you? I kept my thoughts to myself and thanked them all for coming.
I arranged the dinner party for the following Saturday and invited Terry and wife Fiona. I asked Kevin Summers from work, a kind, undemanding and free man to make the fourth.
I gave them good food and even better wine. I needed to get them all mellow and Terry particularly, to that stage of lechery when lust takes over. When to one of his sort a glance and a look from a woman is a green light.
He received my signals, and followed me out to the kitchen. Fiona and Kevin were getting on well, she obviously had a similar fidelity record to her husband.
‘I’ve come to help you make coffee, Pam darling.’ He was six foot two of good looking, well dressed male and I could understand the superficial attraction of him. He thought he could have any female who was willing. I smiled at him, he thought I was. He really thought he could have me there, in the kitchen, up against the sink unit, with the sound of the percolator bubbling in the background. He licked his lips, I licked mine, slowly. His eyes were glazed with lust. Mine surveyed him dispassionately.
‘Pam, Pammy, you’re beautiful tonight,’ he ran a finger up my bare arm.
’Terry, we haven’t got time now, but… another day.’ my voice tailed off suggestively and I walked my fingers up his shirt front and down again. He swallowed convulsively.
‘I’ve got an idea.’ His fingers clutched at my body, trying to touch my breasts. ‘Let’s agree to be friends, special friends.’
He looked a bit puzzled and I inched my hand round under his jacket. I really think sex was his one and only cohesive thought. I surprised him, ‘Shall we seal our …friendship with a pact, something rather exciting.’ I drawled the words my eyes holding his.
He was mesmerised, I had him going and his eyes followed my movements as I reached behind and picked up a small sharp pearl handled fruit knife. With a quick slash I had cut across the base of my thumb. I picked up his hand and did the same, pressing my hand to his, letting the blood mingle freely and drip to the floor. In the world of DNA, I only needed a dot of a dot to enter his wound. I grabbed a tissue, held it on his hand, dried it and put a plaster on top. He watched bemused, as I did the same for myself.
‘Pammy, you’re quite a girl. Are you into this sort of thing?’
‘Could be,’ I murmured huskily, it’s our secret.’ I whispered in his ear, nuzzling the lobe, pressing myself to him. ‘Now, let’s have coffee.’
He shook his head gazing at me, quite spellbound. I carried the tray in, calling brightly to warn the others,
‘Coffee anyone?’
It was two months before I started to see any effects. I had kept an eye from a distance. With the judicious use of the answer phone I managed to keep him at bay and he soon lost interest. I met Fiona in town and was pleasantly sympathetic when told of Terry’s bronchitis.
‘We hope it won’t turn to pneumonia.’ she told me.
Do we?
A month later, I called in to see Terry one evening, having been told by Fiona how down he was. His firm had had to let him go, his health record was causing concern.
At the four month mark I popped in for a visit after seeing the For Sale sign up at the gate. The house was looking grubby and cheerless. Terry was sitting in a chair by an electric fire, swathed in blankets. It was a warm evening, and I was wearing a very pretty low cut dress, with a great deal of leg exposed. I felt safe though, he didn’t look as if he could raise a laugh, let alone anything else.
‘Fiona’s gone, miserable cow, said she’s fed up with looking after me. Said she hoped I hadn’t given her anything. The docs can’t put their finger on this bug Pamela, I can’t seem to shake it off.’
‘What a shame. Can I get you a hot drink while I’m here?’ Wouldn’t Dr Goodman be interested I thought gleefully. Pity, he’ll never know.
‘It’s all right, my care assistant comes in later. I can’t understand it, five months ago I was hale and hearty, full of energy, now look at me.’
God he was pathetic. Five months ago he was screwing Paula.
It is interesting to note that it took six months for him to die. Perhaps, in the interests of medical science and the study of genetic diseases I will make a record of this and leave it in the bank with my will.
Terry deteriorated rapidly, and I saw him on a life support machine the day before he died. His eyes followed me. His body had almost completely packed up. He couldn’t speak. I sprayed some of Paula’s perfume onto his cheek.
‘Remember that? And do you remember that dinner party where we shared our blood?’ I waggled the thumb with the tiny white scar at him and saw his eyes flicker in alarm. He had remembered. The Femme seemed to float in a scented aura round his head. The smell of his betrayal would linger with him as his life ebbed away. There was no need for more words. I pulled the curtains and left him to die alone, as Paula had done.
