Waiting for the resurrection
It was the midnight hour and the city of London still throbbed with life. Cars meandered through the neon metropolis of the city-centre, drunken revellers began to embark on their staggered journey home and theatre-goers exited auditoriums zealously adulating about their brush with culture. As they walked along the streets, people turned a blind eye to the less fortunate, cowered in shop doorways and huddling down into cardboard boxes which would be their bed for the night.
In the midst of this contrast between the sordid, the sublime and the suffering, Laurie Thomas lay awake on the bed in the apartment she would never regard as home. The apartment which had once belonged to her sister. She felt Lorna’s ghost in every corner of the place.
Sleep was, as ever, evading her. Her mind was a tangled web of a thousand questions which refused to weave together and form any sort of coherence.
The main topic of her thoughts was Lorna. Whilst her twin was no longer a physical entity, to Laurie she continued to exist in part in the memories she had carefully logged over their two decades together. Laurie replayed these memories as often as she could in an attempt to preserve them. She knew that if she stopped, if she let them fall to the back of her mind, then in time she would forget. Currently, it was easy to remember Lorna as she was, Laurie need only look in the mirror. But time would inevitably distort her beauty and Lorna would fade away completely, remaining only in the memories.
One of Laurie’s fondest memories was when the two girls would camp outside in the garden, much to their mother’s disapproval who found the whole thing ‘dangerous and unnecessary’. It was Laurie who pushed for these mini-adventures, longing to go camping far beyond the realms of their own property, but settling, for now, with the landscape of their ample back garden. Lorna was originally reluctant to participate.
‘I don’t want to go outside,’ an eight-year-old Lorna had protested, hands placed firmly on hips, chin jutting out in defiance.
‘It will be fun! I promise.’ Laurie had smiled and then listed all the wonderful things they could do outside which they couldn’t do indoors. It was a testament to the trust which existed between the twins even then that Lorna eventually agreed. She didn’t like the thought of camping one bit, but Laurie insisting it would be fun was all the convincing she required.
After their first initial night out in the tent, snuggled up in sleeping bags like little worms, the twins had so much fun that it soon became a weekly ritual. The camping game fell away as they entered into their awkward teenage years and found more enthralling ways to occupy a Friday night. But looking back, those few years when they would lie side by side, a thin sheet of plastic separating them from the stars, were a magical time. A time which Laurie cherished.
‘Did you hear that?’ Lorna turned, wide-eyed, to her twin sister who she could barely make out in the failing light.
‘It’s only the dog next door,’ Laurie replied sleepily.
‘Are you sure? What if it’s a murderer?’ Lorna asked. Cocooned within her bright pink polka-dot sleeping bag, she awkwardly shifted closer to her sister.
‘It won’t be a murderer,’ Laurie stated authoritively, although she sounded more awake as if the notion of a killer stalking them amongst the hydrangeas had troubled her also.
‘But it could be.’
‘No. Killers don’t come to places like this. They attack people in big cities, not houses out in the country.’
‘That’s not true,’ Lorna answered after a moment’s pause.
‘Yes it is.’
‘How is it?’
‘More people are murdered in cities, everyone knows that.’
‘But that’s just because there are more people, it doesn’t mean that killers aren’t in other places too,’ Lorna answered, surprising Laurie with her uncharacteristically insightful response.
‘Well, whatever, it was the dog you heard.’ Laurie said, wanting to get off the topic of crazed serial killers and go to sleep.
For a while the tent fell silent as both twins internally contemplated what they had just discussed.
‘It would be just awful though, to be killed by someone,’ Lorna said, as much to herself as to Laurie.
‘Well, yeah,’ Laurie agreed with a slightly sarcastic tone, as though Lorna had just pointed out how the sky was blue.
‘It’s scary to think that someone could come along and kill just one or both of us,’ Lorna continued, despair rather than fear creeping in to her voice.
‘But they won’t.’ Laurie said flatly; weary from the day’s earlier excursions at school and the current conversation.
‘But if they did,’ Lorna chose to ignore her sister’s tone. ‘I’d rather they killed us both.’
‘Oh?’
‘Like, I know it would suck for Mom and Dad, but I wouldn’t want to be without you or you without me.’
‘Well, since there is no killer in the garden, I think it’s okay to say that we will always be together, but not if you keep stopping me from going to sleep!’
‘Y you get so grumpy when you are tired!’ Lorna teased.
‘Aren’t you tired?’
‘A little … I guess.’
Lorna curled herself into a ball, bunching her sleeping bag up around her pre-pubescent limbs. She could hear Laurie’s breathing begin to slow as her sister began to drift off to sleep.
‘I love you, Lolly,’ she said fondly, releasing one arm from her nest to drape it over her sister’s cushioned form. It had been a long time since she had used the nickname, arguably not since the twins entered into double digits just over a year before. Perhaps it was the fear of separation which had rekindled the affectionate label, Lorna wasn’t even sure herself, but it had slipped out and it had felt natural.
‘Mmm,’ Laurie gave a contented, sleepy mumble in response and Lorna felt her own eyelids growing heavy.
‘I’ll never leave you,’ she pledged to her sister, before falling away to sleep, the talk of murderers soon forgotten.
A million miles away from the tent, Laurie at last fell asleep upon the double bed which she inhabited alone. Her eyes closed and darkness overwhelmed her mind, drowning out her thoughts, and granting her the respite she so dearly needed. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Her muscles relaxed and she sprawled herself out, rather than sleeping in the frightened huddle which had become her default position.
As she lay on the cusp of sleep, Laurie was certain that she felt a weight fall against her, like that of an arm. But by this point, she was too tired to be troubled by it. A sense of calm washed over her as the city around her faded away.
The sun was struggling to penetrate through the grey clouds which promised rain later that day as Laurie walked along the bustling pavement towards work. People shoved against her in their haste to reach their destination and didn’t even turn back to offer an apologetic glance. The air tasted of car fumes and decay with an undercurrent of takeaway food which always made Laurie want to heave. She missed the clean air of home, the scent of fresh woodland flowers which would be carried along on the breeze. She knew in her heart that her time in London would soon draw to a close, regardless of what she uncovered about Lorna. She simply could not take anymore. Lorna had loved the city of London dearly but Laurie was identical to her twin in looks alone.
‘Good morning,’ Laurie offered Faye her warmest smile as she came in and began unbuttoning her coat. The Deputy Prime Minister’s assistant was already sat at her computer working diligently and looked like she had been there for some time.
‘Morning,’ Faye said dryly, not turning away from her monitor, her fingers still weaving across the keyboard, compiling an email.
‘Nice to see you too,’ Laurie said, her mood further soured by the less than warm reception Faye had given her.
‘He told me to send you in when you arrived; I’ve only just taken his papers and coffee in so give it a minute.’
Both women knew who the ‘he’ to whom Faye referred was. So disillusioned was she by her employer that she struggled to even speak his name now.
Laurie spent ten minutes glancing at her emails with no desire to respond to or action any of them. She felt detached from her current situation to the point where it no longer mattered if her façade of interest fell away. She would soon be home, away from all of this, locked in the security of the familiar.
‘He doesn’t like to be kept waiting,’ Faye said sharply after a further few minutes had elapsed, more for her sake than Laurie’s. She knew it would fall on her unfavourably if Charles came out of his office and saw Laurie there after expressly requesting her immediate presence in his office pending her arrival.
Reluctantly Laurie raised herself out of her chair and headed towards the Deputy Prime Minister’s office.
It pleased Charles to see Laurie despite her rebuff the last time they met. He loved the way she moved her slight frame; so graceful were her steps she almost danced across the floor. Without the towering heels which Lorna adored, Laurie looked even more small and delicate. She was like a rare, wild flower – beautiful and exotic yet frail and vulnerable; the slightest breeze could uproot her.
‘Good morning,’ Charles smiled fondly. ‘How are you?’
Laurie scowled angrily. She didn’t like this pretence of care which Charles seemed intent on keeping up. They were investigating Lorna’s death, nothing more; her wellbeing should be of no concern to him. If anything, his concern was merely masking his guilt over Lorna’s death.
‘I’m okay but I shan’t be staying here much longer,’ Laurie’s words were barbed and hostile.
‘Oh?’ Charles queried, taken aback by her anger. It was as if she was once more the young woman who had originally entered his office as a ghost and asked for his help. The time they had spent together, the moments they had shared, seemed to have evaporated away, leaving them as strangers once more.
‘I plan on returning home indefinitely as soon as possible,’ Laurie explained. ‘I hate it here.’
Then, as she sat there the anger faded away slightly to reveal the frightened, lonely girl hiding behind it.
‘Hopefully we will have some answers soon,’ Charles said gently, trying to placate her.
‘Even if we don’t, I want to go home.’
‘I know it must be hard for you to be here, but if you can just be a little more patient we will get answers. We will find out what happened to Lorna.’
Laurie’s shoulders trembled slightly as she suppressed a sob. Charles immediately dashed from behind his desk and came and knelt beside her. Raising one hand, he gently stroked her cheek and this time she did not knock him away.
‘It won’t change anything,’ Laurie’s voice was small as she spoke. ‘The truth won’t bring Lorna back.’
‘I know it won’t,’ Charles cupped her face with his hands, her skin cool to the touch. ‘But if we can prove that Lorna did not kill herself, won’t that help you and your family find closure and then you can start living your own life?’
‘I don’t think it will change anything for my parents. Besides, if Lorna didn’t kill herself, someone else did. Closing one door will just open another and my parents will hate me for that.’ Laurie turned away, releasing herself from Charles’ grip, but she did not recoil, instead remaining within his grasp. ‘They hate me so much, I can tell. Nothing will change that.’
‘They don’t hate you Laurie, they are just hurting.’
‘Why don’t you hate me?’ Charles frowned at the absurdity of the question. ‘I mean, you loved Lorna,’ Laurie explained. ‘And yet you don’t see her when you look at me, you see me. And when you do look at me, you don’t look like you’ve just had your heart ripped out and then smashed on the floor, you look pleased.’
‘That’s because I am pleased,’ Charles was so close to Laurie, knelt beside her still, that he could smell the gentle citrus fragrance of her perfume which floated on the air between them and intoxicated his senses.
‘You are very kind. I can see why Lorna was so fond of you,’ Laurie smiled whilst the voice at the back of her mind screamed in protest, reminding her how he may well have been responsible for her sister’s death. But for the moment Laurie chose to ignore her internal warnings. Charles was her only ally in London, and if she had to remain there for a few more days, she didn’t want to have completely alienated everyone. ‘But what does it all mean?’ Why would someone take evidence from Lorna’s case file?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ Charles rose to his feet, his knees creaking angrily at the unfamiliar movement of kneeling, and returned to behind his desk. Being in such close proximity to Laurie was clouding his thoughts and the temptation to reach out and kiss her had been almost too much to bear. He needed some physical distance to regain some clarity.
‘Have you contacted the police? Asked them where the missing file is?’ Laurie asked demandingly.
‘I’m doing everything I can,’ Charles sighed. ‘But I can’t exactly call up the station personally, and nor can you. We need to be more subtle in our movements. If someone is hiding something then we don’t want them to realise that we are looking.’
‘But I don’t understand who would do that!’
‘Well, that’s what we are hoping to figure out.’
Laurie shook her golden hair in frustration and crossed her arms across her chest in a stubborn gesture.
‘I hate all this waiting around,’ she protested.
‘I know,’ Charles agreed, and then, lowering his tone he asked, ‘Do you know anyone who would want to harm your sister?’
‘Only you!’ Laurie wanted to blurt out, but instead she looked at him incredulously.
‘No, no-one. Everyone loved Lorna; she was like this ray of sunshine that everyone wanted to bask in.’
‘Yes,’ Charles mused in agreement. It occurred to him again how very different the Thomas twins were. Lorna was self-assured and vibrant, whilst Laurie appeared wracked with insecurities and inner turmoil. One twin could be a pop star, the other the troubled lead singer for an indie band. They were the antithesis of one another yet Charles had felt equally drawn to both twins.
‘Sometimes I feel guilty that I’m here and she’s not,’ Laurie confided.
‘Well, you shouldn’t.’
‘Lorna’s the one everyone loved; I was just the sidekick.’
Charles tried to think of the right words to console Laurie as she glanced sadly around the room, her arms still wrapped around her, now offering comfort rather than forming a barrier.
‘If things were the other way around,’ Charles queried. ‘Do you think she would come here and investigate things as you have?’
‘I have no doubt,’ Laurie answered without hesitation.
‘I think that going back home right now is a bad idea.’ Charles said the words even though he didn’t truly believe them. It was obvious how unhappy being in the capital made Laurie, she would undoubtedly benefit from returning to familiar surroundings. But Charles didn’t want her to leave again. He was willing to say or do anything to keep her close to him.
‘I don’t know,’ Laurie shook her head uncertainly. ‘I just don’t think that I’m strong enough to see any of this through.’
‘But you are!’ Charles encouraged. ‘Look how far you have come, all the progress you have made. Once we know where the missing file went, we will all but have our answer.’
‘That’s exactly the point,’ Laurie enthused. ‘What if the file was merely misplaced as an admin error, and it transpires that yes, Lorna did take her own life. I don’t know how I’d take that. I’ve tried to prepare myself for it, but in all honesty, if that is the truth, I’d rather spend the rest of my life being ignorant to it and pretending that she didn’t willingly leave me, that she was taken.’
Charles understood Laurie’s perspective on the situation. Both of them were clinging to the notion that Lorna had been killed, because if it weren’t true, if it had been suicide, then it tainted that love which had ever existed between them either as her sister or her lover.
‘But we need to see this through,’ Charles urged, but Laurie just looked at him with weary eyes.
‘When do we stop torturing ourselves for her death?’ she queried.
‘You tell me.’
‘And what if we find out who was behind her death, what then?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ Charles said quietly. It was a notion he had briefly entertained but he was wary to get his hopes up too much.
‘What would you want to happen?’ he turned the question back around onto Laurie.
‘No idea,’ Laurie shrugged flippantly. ‘Six months ago, I’d have gladly killed whoever had taken my sister’s life because I was so … angry back then. But now, I realise that revenge wouldn’t change anything. But still, I’d want them brought to justice, Lorna deserves that much. Not that I trust in our current justice system all that much; it’s like a revolving door policy, no offence.’
‘None taken.’
‘I’ll stay in London until the end of the month,’ Laurie stated after a brief silence had settled between them. ‘That gives us two weeks which I think is adequate. But I will be going home this weekend regardless.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s my birthday, which means it would have been Lorna’s too,’ Laurie explained quietly.
Charles felt as though his chest was collapsing in on itself but he tried to retain a calm composure. How could he not have been aware of something so pivotal? His cheeks flushed red with shame and a sob began to claw its way up along the back of his throat.
‘You’d better get back to work.’ He managed to dismiss Laurie and wait for the door to click shut behind her before he let the tears of shock and anguish fall. It had been one year, how could he not have known?
As Laurie walked home, slowly becoming accustomed to being jolted by eager passers-by on the pavement, she felt her phone whir to life in her coat pocket. Instinctively she ignored it. She was still cautious about city life and felt that wandering around with a phone stuck to her ear would make her a target for potential muggers. When she was within the relative safety of Lorna’s modest apartment she removed the phone from her pocket and noticed that she had seven missed calls from Arthur. Sighing, Laurie flung the mobile device onto her bed.
When she returned from showering, the number of missed calls had risen to twelve. Whatever Arthur wanted, it was important enough to warrant persistence and so Laurie felt compelled to return the call. She dialled his number and he answered after just one ring.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he greeted her angrily.
‘At work,’ Laurie answered flatly, in no mood for an argument.
‘Well, I’ve been worried about you,’ Arthur continued, his voice softening.
‘Why?’
‘You’ve not been in touch since you went back to London.’’ There was an element of hurt within Arthur’s voice which made Laurie feel guilty. She kept vowing to stop neglecting the man she had once loved so dearly and yet she seemed fated to remain on her current path of self-sabotage.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy.’ It was a poor excuse but it was all Laurie could muster under pressure.
‘Right, okay.’
‘So is everything alright … back home?’ Laurie crossed her legs beneath her as she sat on her bed.
‘Same as ever,’ Arthur replied sadly. ‘You’ll be home this weekend, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Apparently there is going to be a memorial service at the town hall to commemorate her birthday which everyone is going to.’
‘What bullshit,’ Laurie said nastily.
‘How is it?’ Arthur asked defensively.
‘We’ve had the memorial service, at the funeral. Why do people insist of reliving truly terrible things? It’s ridiculous!’ Laurie fumed.
‘Yeah, I guess it is,’ Arthur reluctantly agreed. ‘I guess that means you won’t be going to it?’
‘No, Art, I won’t. Seems people forget it’s my birthday too.’
‘People are just trying to come together and make sense of it all. Not everyone is as strong as you are, Laurie.’
‘I’m not strong,’ Laurie protested.
‘It shook the whole community up, a beautiful young girl taking her own life like that.’
‘Lorna did not kill herself!’ Laurie screamed the words so loud that she feared the entire apartment block would have heard her.
‘Yeah, of course,’ Arthur answered but it was obvious from his tone that he was not convinced.
‘Why have you even called me?’ Laurie asked angrily, her mood now well and truly soured.
‘Because, I think that when you come home this weekend you should stay. No more running off to London and no more running away from me. Laurie, it’s been months. I’m tired of waiting around for you to love me again.’
‘Are you giving me an ultimatum?’
‘No, no nothing like that. Just think about what I’m saying, please. We need to be a couple again. We can be great again, I know it.’
‘I’ve changed.’
‘People do, it’s fine. Things change and we adapt, it’s what growing up is all about.’
Laurie had worked hard at suppressing her feelings for Arthur so that she could concentrate on gaining closure over Lorna’s death. But now, speaking to him at length, those feelings were threatening to resurface and Laurie couldn’t deal with them, not yet.
‘I need to go.’ She felt cruel to be cold and indifferent but she felt like she had no choice. Really, she knew that she should let Arthur go, release him from the mess which was their relationship. But she still loved him, and perhaps it was out of selfishness that she didn’t want to relinquish him to someone else. Laurie wanted to believe that one day they could be normal again, even if she doubted that it would ever be possible.
‘You need to come home,’ Arthur said, his voice strong and commanding. ‘Either you choose to come home or else I’m going to come to London and drag you back,.’ He said the latter in jest but there was a hint of sincerity to it. ‘Laurie, I miss you. I need you. Come back to me, please.’
‘I’ll be back this weekend.’
‘Dammit, I don’t know why I bother,’ Arthur said angrily before hanging up the phone.
Laurie sat with the handset cradled in her hands, pondering on the mess which was now her life. Twelve months ago, everything was perfect. Lorna had come home, she and Arthur were in love, the world was as it should be. But one night, one accident had irrevocably changed everything.
‘What do I do?’ Laurie asked the empty room. She needed more than ever the guidance from her twin. She could almost envision what Lorna would say. She would lie on the bed beside Laurie, listening to her sister offload her troubles and then she would laugh and prop herself up one arm and scrutinise Laurie with a steely glare.
‘Arthur loves you. What is the problem?’ she’d ask.
‘Stop overthinking things. You always overthink things, Laurie, it’s a curse not a gift. That boy thinks the world of you; do you know how lucky you are? I’d give anything to have someone look at me the way he does you.’
Releasing the phone, Laurie stroked the empty bed beside her in the space where she imagined Lorna would lie. A solitary tear fell down her cheek and rather than wipe it away she let it fall and then softly land upon the duvet beneath her, briefly darkening the floral pattern.
‘I need you, Lorna,’ she whispered, before grabbing her phone once more and dialling her deceased twin. She sat and listened to the familiar voicemail message and then lay back on the bed and wept.
That night, Charles didn’t go up to bed. Elaine lay and waited for the soft thud of his footsteps ascending the stairs but they never came and at three in the morning she gave up her silent vigil and let sleep take over.
After Laurie left the office, Charles had spent the remainder of the day in a dazed stupor. He was desperate for Laurie not to leave. She had promised him only two more weeks of her time and that didn’t feel like nearly enough.
Back home, Charles sat in the chair which had first absorbed his grief over Lorna and poured himself a whisky, much to Elaine’s disapproval.
‘Charles, what are you doing?’ she had scolded when she spotted the glass of liquor in his hand. ‘You are drinking! And on a work night no less!’ Elaine continued her vitriol even though Charles was paying her no attention.
‘This is ridiculous, put that glass down!’ When she moved to retrieve the glass from her husband’s hand, Charles abruptly moved it from within her grasp and stared at her coldly.
‘Please, Charles,’ she pleaded. ‘Just put the drink down and go to bed.’
‘Unlike you, I am not controlled by my demons,’ Charles said coldly.
‘Charles …’ Elaine wanted to respond but the words refused to manifest themselves. She looked at her husband who was regarding her how he would an unsightly insect which had crawled into his home.
Years ago, the demons he spoke of had nearly pulled their marriage apart. Elaine lost count of the times she would awaken, disorientated in bed and fully-clothed, only to have the forgotten events from the previous night relayed to her by a weary Charles. She drank to numb the pain of being infertile. She drank until the world went black. And then Charles, back then a loving husband, would hold her head over the toilet for hours on end as she purged, before putting her into bed and watching over her all night long. Then, in the morning he went out to work to helpt run the country. In those days, despite her inner turmoil, Elaine idolised Charles and had no doubt that he could rule the world if he so desired. What plagued her then, and still, was the notion that she had failed on her part; the Lloyd legacy would die with them because of her.
‘But you are not this man,’ Elaine said through tears. ‘You were great once.’
‘No, I was never great,’ Charles said pitifully. ‘I’ve always been just a man. That’s the problem; you never saw that, you always wanted me to be more.’
‘That’s not true!’ Elaine protested but Charles looked away, for him their conversation was over.
Distraught, Elaine retreated to bed, and lay in silence, listening for sounds of movement from her husband below.
Charles wanted to drink the pain away but he knew better than that. He left his third glass half-full, refusing to succumb to the emptiness inside him which longed to be blotted out. He sat and thought of Lorna, and of Laurie, and it occurred to him, as it had many times, how strange it was that he never knew that Lorna had a twin. And Laurie, being so different, had seemed at first like an impostor, like a fake Lorna. But Charles soon realised that she had her own mind; her own views completely separate from those he had associated with Lorna. It pained him to realise how little he really knew of Lorna, and he wanted to rectify that by getting to know Laurie. But if she left now, he would still barely know her and that would mean that he had failed.
Two weeks was all she had given him and she couldn’t have picked a worse two weeks. The refined budget went to the vote the following day, which meant that Charles would have to endure hours within the House of Commons which he detested. It bored him, how insolently the members of parliament would behave, heckling one another after every little comment. It was completely counterproductive; what should take an hour took six as a result. And being locked away with Parliament meant that he would be inaccessible to Laurie.
Charles wasn’t about to shun his duties as Deputy Prime Minister; that was something he would never do. But he also felt that he had a responsibility to be there for Laurie which he wasn’t upholding. As he sat and contemplated, the hours spun past and without realising, his head grew heavier and closer to his chest until he at last fell into a restless sleep.
When he wearily rubbed his eyes, the first few tentative rays of sunlight were reaching across the floor through a gap in the curtains. Charles got up, smoothed down his slightly crumpled suit and left the house in the clothes he had worn the previous day. He thought about going upstairs to change but he didn’t want to risk waking Elaine; the last thing he needed was a repeat of their argument from the night before.
Elaine awoke when she heard the front door slam shut, signalling Charles’ departure. She rolled over and groaned in annoyance. It felt as though her hard work to keep some semblance of a marriage together was being ignored and almost thrown in her face. Elaine spent the morning angrily attending to some minor duties, but not before first carefully dressing and applying her make-up. But her anger soon subsided when at eleven in the morning the doorbell rang and she was greeted by a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
Smiling, Elaine arranged the flowers in a vase and made them the centrepiece on her dining table. The card accompanying them was succinct but it had done what it had intended. Elaine was now appeased.
I’m sorry. Charles.
But as beautiful as the flowers were, they would soon die, leaving only the decay which had begun to rot away at the relationship.