As You Wave Me Goodbye

Three

(Photo: My most precious picture)

I cried on and off all that week. Mum did too, sometimes bursting into tears at the most unusual moments. John didn't cry openly; he held in his tears until we went to bed each night. He still doesn't know that I heard the heartbroken little sobs coming out from under his duvet cover in the middle of the night.

On the night before I was due to leave England, I slipped out of my own bed and climbed into John's. He tried to push me away at first, moaning that I was taking up the whole bed and squashing him, but he eventually gave in and pulled me close.

"Oh, Tracy," John murmured, burying his face into my shoulder.

"It's okay, Johnny," I whispered. "I won't be gone forever."

"I wish you weren't going at all! Then we wouldn't have to be apart." He paused then added, "Daddy's mad wanting to take you away like this."

"I know... but we can't do anything about it."

"Why can't we do anything?" John asked, peering at me incredulously.

"Well, we're children, for one thing," I said. "We don't really get a say."

"That's so unfair," John grumbled. "How come no one cares about what kids want? Why aren't we counted as people?"

"I don't know, John," I said, wrapping my arms tighter around him. "That's just the way it is."

We lay there together in silence for a little while, then John suddenly sat bolt upright. It was a bit too sudden; I nearly fell right out of bed!

"John! Be careful!" I whined. "You're rocking the bed, you dummy!"

John sighed. "Stop whinging, Trace, and listen! I have a plan! Let's run away together! That way Daddy can't take you away. We can stay in England, just us two. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

I gave John a sad, pitying look (despite his not being able to see me in the pitch black room). He kept going on about where we could go, where we would live, what we would do.

"I'll go out and work for us," John declared. "I'm a boy so people will be more likely to take me on. I can do jobs and get money for us, and you can stay at home and do the tidying and cooking and making the house look pretty."

"What house?" I said.

I barely whispered those two words, but John still heard. I felt the soft weight of his body slid back down under the blankets. He lay there beside me, completely unmoving. I heard tiny little snuffles. My heart sank; John was trying his hardest not to cry.

"Oh Johnny," I murmured, petting his hair. "It's okay. I'm sorry to squash your dreams like that, but we have to be serious. We can't run away together. It just wouldn't work. We wouldn't last one day alone."

"At least we'd be together," John grumbled. "We're twins, Tracy, we have to be together always."

I wrapped my arms around him, all set to slip into the older sibling position and comfort him. "We will be together, Johnny. Really soon, I'm sure of it. I bet Daddy will only take me away for a little while - maybe a year at the most."

"That's still a long time," John said uncertainly.

"It'll fly by, Johnny, believe me." I found his face in the darkness and gave him a gentle kiss on his oddly damp cheek. "We'll be together again soon."

"Okay." John was quiet for a moment, then he added, "You won't forget me, will you, Trace? I couldn't bear it if you forgot me."

"I won't forget you, you won't forget me," I said. "Now budge up and make room, you're pushing me straight put of the bed."