Jeff was standing on the doormat, eating an apple. He glanced at the two heads as if he’d known them for years, and smiled.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Jeff, this is Rikki. Rikki: this is, er . . . Jeff.’
Jeff looked at Rikki again, and his smile got wider. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said. ‘I’ve been really looking forward to it.’
Rikki blushed. ‘Hi,’ he said quietly.
The boys stared at each other, and wondered what to say next. Richard turned back and waved to his mother, then pulled the front door shut.
Jeff laughed as they started off. ‘You know, this is a hell of a relief,’ he said. ‘We’re one down, so we really needed you back – we’ve got major games coming up.’ He looked at his friend. ‘You are playing, still?’
‘Yes, of course. We’re dying to play, aren’t we, Rikki?’
‘You bet.’
‘You can, er . . . you can run like you used to?’ said Jeff. ‘No problems with balance or anything?’
‘No problems with the running. We’ve been having kick-abouts with Dad, and if anything I’m faster now. Rikki’s a good shot.’
‘We’re training hard. There’s a cup match coming up against Morden Manor, so you’d better bring your kit every day. What happens when you, er . . . head the ball?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Do you go for it with the same head? Do you kind of . . . clash in the air? – you don’t mind me asking, do you?’
‘No,’ said Rikki. ‘We . . . get along. We kind of just know who can get to the ball. Richard’s a bit more timid than me.’
‘Rikki’s brave, I’ll tell you,’ said Richard. ‘He’s got the better reflexes.’
They crossed the street, and joined another clump of children. Nobody stared. It was a friendly neighbourhood and everyone had heard about the transformation. Clearly, there was an unwritten rule that everyone would behave as if there was nothing out of the ordinary: this Tuesday was the same as any other.
Richard began to relax.
Jeff kept the conversation going, and they were soon joined by two more of their old classmates: Eric and Mark.
‘Hey!’ said Mark. ‘Good to see you!’ He was a tall, thin boy in ill-fitting clothes. He had a slightly nervous, breathless voice and his eyes bulged. ‘You OK, though, huh? You back for good?’
‘I hope so,’ said Richard.
‘This is Rikki, then, huh? How you doing, Rikki? OK, are you?’
‘All right, Rikki?’ said Eric.
‘I’m fine.’
‘I’m Eric. You got the card OK? You see what I drew?’
‘Yes.’
Eric trotted backwards, grinning. He looked from one head to the other, and Rikki nodded to him.
‘What’s that on your arms?’ said Rikki.
‘Tattoos.’
‘Real ones?’
Eric shook his head. ‘Transfers. I’m going to get one, though – a real one. Soon as I can. Soon as I leave this dump. In fact’ – he rolled his shirt-sleeves down, to conceal the patterns on his skin – ‘I get pestered if I even show these ones and they’re only, you know . . . kids’ stuff.’
‘They’re cool,’ said Rikki. ‘I think Richard needs one, right on his nose.’
Everyone laughed, and Jeff said, ‘Eric’s in trouble, all the time. Nothing’s changed! So don’t do what he does, Rikki.’
‘They pick on me,’ said Eric. ‘They’re trying to get rid of me – harder than ever!’
‘He asks for it, though,’ panted Mark. ‘He’s a rebel.’
Eric’s smile got wider. ‘You seeing Doc Warren?’ he said.
‘The counsellor?’ said Richard. ‘How do you know him?’
‘I’ve been seeing him a year. He does my medication.’
‘Medication for what?’ said Rikki.
‘They’re calming me down. He was at the school yesterday, that doctor – telling us all about you, and what we should do.’
Richard laughed. ‘He’s a bit of a nuisance, to be honest—’
‘And dead sneaky,’ said Eric. ‘You be careful what you say, ’cos he’s always laying traps. I see him once a week and it’s questions, questions – “How do you feel about this? Why d’you say that?” – on and on. I just lie my head off now, and boy . . . he gets excited.’
‘What’s he after?’ said Rikki.
‘Signs of madness, I guess,’ said Eric. ‘You been to the Rechner place yet? It’s full of weirdos.’
‘We’re going next week,’ said Richard.
‘Don’t trust him.’
‘Are you smart, Rikki?’ said Mark. ‘Can you do maths and stuff, or what?’
‘Rikki’s pretty sharp,’ said Richard.
‘You’ll be on the top table, then,’ said Jeff. ‘We do equations now, all the time. They’re impossible.’
Eric laughed. ‘I don’t bother. I just colour stuff in, with Bra-low.’
‘Bra-low?’ said Rikki, as everyone laughed.
‘You remember Mr Bra-low,’ said Mark. ‘He’s our teacher. You have gaps, or what?’
‘There’s some things I remember,’ said Rikki. ‘Some stuff I really know about. But day-to-day stuff—’
‘We’ll keep you straight,’ said Jeff. ‘Bra-low’s real name is Barlow, OK? But we call him “Bra-low” and he doesn’t even notice. Oh, and by the way, here’s another thing – you guys got re-elected for that Kidspeak thing! There’s some big meeting coming up, and you’re with Aparna again.’
‘Kidspeak?’ said Rikki. ‘That rings a bell too.’
Richard sighed: ‘I told you about this—’
‘You didn’t.’
‘I did, but it’s so boring you repressed it. We have to make speeches about what’s important to us. It’s a whole-school thing, and people talk about the environment or a hobby.’
‘Which sounds OK,’ said Eric. ‘Till you realize it’s crap.’
‘So why do we do it?’ said Rikki.
‘It goes on your school record,’ said Jeff. ‘It helps towards the scholarship, but it’s a way of brainwashing us. That’s what my dad says, anyway. You end up saying what you’re told to say—’
‘But Richard was good,’ said Eric, grinning again. ‘He took all those questions at the end, with Aparna.’
‘I hated it!’ said Richard.
‘You’re one of the best, though,’ said Jeff.
Mark fell into step beside Rikki. ‘So what do you like doing?’ he said. His eyes still bulged in wonder. ‘You got hobbies and stuff?’
‘Not yet. I’m hoping to get some.’
‘You into planes – like Richard?’
‘I can live without them.’
‘Yeah?’
They had come to the school gates, and there were lines of children pouring through. Clumps of parents stood waving, studiously ignoring the newcomers.
‘It’s just how I remember it,’ said Richard quietly. ‘Wow. I am so pleased to be back.’
‘You’re sitting next to me,’ said Jeff softly.
‘Great.’
‘We didn’t let anyone even move your chair. Every time someone tried we said, “That’s Richard’s seat. Leave it.”’
‘Rikki’s too, now,’ said Eric. ‘We’ve been waiting for both of you.’
‘How are you guys going to do it, though?’ said Mark. ‘Are you going to need two books, two pens, two . . . snacks?’
There was a short silence, and Rikki looked at Richard. ‘You explain,’ he said.
‘It’s hard to understand,’ said Richard. ‘We’re actually the same person. We do stuff the same as we always did, but we kind of do it together.’
‘Right.’
‘What if you don’t agree?’ said Eric. ‘I mean, in a test. If the question says, “Where’s the River Nile?” – and if you think it’s Brazil but Rikki says America, what do you do?’
‘I suppose we argue,’ said Richard.
‘But what if there’s a sleepover and Rikki wants to go but you don’t, Richard? What happens then?’
Rikki said, ‘Like he says: we argue. We thrash it around, and lay our cards on the table. Then I smack him one.’
Everyone laughed.
‘Richard usually comes around to my way of looking at things. We are civilized, you know – I’m not out of the jungle. Who’s the weirdo, waving?’
‘Oh, wow,’ said Eric. ‘That’s the guy we were telling you about – our teacher. That’s Mr Bra.’ He laughed. ‘Get ready for the spittle-show.’
‘I do remember,’ said Rikki quietly.
‘He’s nice,’ said Richard.
‘You think so?’
‘Sure.’
‘I think he’s a cretin. Look at him.’