Writing for Fun
September 2016
Doppleganger - Jeanette Rothwell
It was past midnight when the taxi turned into Broad Street. It was a fine night and a full moon rode in the cloudless sky, almost dimming some of the street lamps. The traveller, a young man, dragged a bulging back pack from the cab, paid the driver, climbed the steps to the front-door and pressed the doorbell. There was no response. He gave it a second push and also lifted the knocker, letting it fall loudly but it still failed to rouse anybody.
He thought about it. Then he retreated down the front steps and scanned the front of the house. He perceived that all the windows were shut except one on the second floor of the house where he could see that one window had been left open a few inches at the top. This gave, as he knew, on to the dining room and to reach it presented a lithe and determined young man with no difficulty. He took off his jacket, looked up and down the street in case he was observed, and using a nearby tree and drainpipe he pushed up the lower sash and swung himself into the room. An all too familiar action well remembered from boyhood living in this house. He emerged into the hallway and noticed that a light had been left on. He then went downstairs to open the front door and retrieve his back pack. He went softly up the stairs, no creaking stair betrayed him, he thought, but as he rounded the bend in the flight a door opened and a voice said anxiously, ‘Eddie?’
He looked up seeing the light streaming through the door of a bedroom and silhouetted in the doorway stood a small silver haired lady. ‘What a fetching housecoat, love,’ exclaimed the traveller.
She heaved a sigh of relief. ‘You absurd boy! Oh, Eddie I’m so thankful you’ve come, but what in the world has detained you, I’ve been sick with worry.’
The traveller dropped his jacket and backpack, advanced on the lady, and said reproachfully ‘No really Mother, how can you be so unnatural a parent?’
‘Chris!’ she shrieked. ‘Oh my dearest son.’
After a very huge hug, and a kiss on the cheek Chris said, ‘Mum, you know I’m not your dearest son. Just your second born, although I know you find it difficult to tell us apart.’
‘I can tell you apart, it’s just that I was not expecting you,’ she protested ‘You are Eddy’s Doppelganger or he is yours, I don’t know which.’
She then proceeded to fuss over him, offering him refreshment and wanting to hear all his news, etc. However, after he had told her that he had been given leave because where he worked in a Clinic as a Doctor in The Gambia, he had suffered a bout of Malaria and been sent home to fully recover. She then noticed that he had lost a bit of weight and was quite tanned and she vowed to feed him up and spoil him before he had to return.
After this exchange of news, Christ turned to her and asked, ‘What’s amiss, Mum?’
‘Nothing at all if only Eddy will return tomorrow.’
‘Return? Where is he?’
‘I don’t know, no one knows,’ she admitted.
He was startled and urged her to enlighten him. The problem began, she explained, after their father had died fifteen months ago. He had left a reasonable amount of money but had insisted that Eddy as the eldest would not inherit until he reached the age of 30 or married, whichever was the sooner. Eddy was a journalist and broadcaster and very extravagant with the salary he earned in that occupation. Consequently he had begun to run up some nasty debts. He was rather volatile and quick to change mood.
Their next door neighbour had a daughter, Gillian and the two boys had known her since childhood. Eddy and Gillian had recently entered into an engagement and with that in mind Eddy had visited his Uncle who was an executor of his father’s will with a view to persuading him to advance some of the inheritance so that he, Eddy, could pay off some of his debts. The Uncle was adamant and would not release anything until the knot was tied.
Eddy had gone off in a huff, with the excuse that he was following up on a good story. He had packed a few things and driven off in his Aston Martin to nobody knew where. Their mother had spoken to Gillian to find out if she had heard from him but with no success.
Gillian was a teacher at the local Grammar School and tomorrow was Prize Giving Day. Because Eddy was a well known TV reporter, he had been asked to present the prizes on Gillian’s recommendation and if he didn’t turn up it would be very embarrassing for her.
Chris went to bed deep in thought and the following day he called round next door to speak to Gillian. Her father opened the front door and said, in a rather vague fashion, ‘Oh, hello, Eddy, Gill’s in the dining room.’ He waved his hand towards the door and wandered towards the back of the house. Chris did not have time to explain that he was not Eddy so he walked towards the Dining Room and opened the door. Gillian was sitting at the table surrounded by exercise books, obviously doing some marking. She glanced up and then looked startled ‘Eddy! Where have you been?’ She then looked at him more intently and then exclaimed ‘My Goodness, you’re not Eddy – it’s Chris isn’t it?’
Chris nodded his head. She came round the table and gave him a big hug. Chris realised it was several years since he had seen Gillian and was struck by how pretty she had become. He could only remember a rather skinny, tomboy with pigtails.
They discussed the situation and she admitted she was worried about the Prize Giving that evening. Then suddenly she looked keenly at him and said, ‘Chris, would you consider taking Eddy’s place this evening? Nobody really knows him very well. I know you are rather tanned but as it is known he has been away he could have been on holiday sunbathing?’
Chris was appalled at the suggestion and would not change his mind in spite of her pleading with him. He then went home to his Mother and told her about Gillian’s suggestion. She was all in favour of it. Gillian popped round to see them and between his Mother and Gillian he was brow beaten into agreeing to the deception.
Gillian was convinced he would not be asked any awkward questions. He didn’t really have to make a speech and just do a lot of smiling and hand shaking. She was certain there would be nobody there who knew Eddy well.
The evening of the Prize Giving was upon him. He had had to raid his brother’s wardrobe to find a smart suit as he had not brought anything smart with him. The suit fitted him, apart from the trousers being a trifle loose as he had lost some weight. He had to polish up his own shoes as his brother took a different size.
The Prize Giving went well. His charming smile and encouraging words to each of the winners was well received and after the children, parents and guests had departed the teachers and their guests retired to the staff room for some refreshment. Gillian had promised to stay close to him in case there were any awkward encounters.
However, at one point she was called away by another teacher to settle a light-hearted dispute and a heavy hand landed on Chris’s shoulder accompanied by a hearty voice saying, ‘Hallo, Eddy, fancy seeing you here, how are you old boy?’
Chris froze and slowly turned to meet his fate, but suddenly at his elbow a voice said ‘Hello, Charlie, have you written any good books lately?’ It was Gillian who had spotted the acquaintance heading towards Chris and came to his rescue. Charlie and Gillian chatted for a few minutes and then he was called away by the Headmaster to meet someone and Chris let out a sigh of relief.
‘Let’s get out of here before I get caught,’ he whispered and Gillian agreed. On the journey home they began to talk about Eddy and his disappearance. Gillian admitted that they had drifted into their engagement out of convenience, Eddy, because he wanted to get his hands on his inheritance and, in Gillian’s case, she wanted to move out of the family home. Her father had re-married and she didn’t really like her new stepmother and also felt in the way. Her teacher’s salary did not stretch to buying or renting anywhere. However, she realised that the engagement was a mistake and she was sure that Eddy felt the same. Also she already knew that he was quite a flirt and would probably never remain faithful.
Chris expressed his regret at her predicament and after a friendly hug they went their separate ways.
After such a stressful day, Chris fell into a deep sleep. He was dragged up, an hour later, from fathoms deep by a hand grasping his shoulder and shaking it, and a voice saying, ‘Do come on, wake up Chris, Chris!’
He opened his eyes and blinked into the laughing face of his brother, illuminated by the bedside lamp. For a moment he stared, then a slow smile crept into his eyes, and he said, ‘I knew you couldn’t have had a fatal accident like Mum thought.’
Emerging from the last clinging remnants of sleep, Chris became aware of a large plaster on Eddy’s forehead. ‘So you did have an accident!’
‘Concussion and a couple of ribs bruised,’ he answered. ‘You must have had a hard day, it took me ages to wake you.’
‘If you knew what sort of an evening I have had, you take good care not to upset me.’
Eddy wryly smiled. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t phone home but I was out of my senses for days and when I did come to myself I wasn’t in any state to telephone. If you’d ever suffered a deep concussion, you would know what I felt like!’
After questioning his brother it emerged that he had been only ten miles away at a horse breeder’s farm, which was close to an old friend’s house. He had popped over there before he was planning to go to Ireland following up on a story he had been tipped about. However, on the way there, he was in such a fury about his Uncle’s refusal to release any money, he drove too fast on a corner and overturned the car.
I woke up in the Cottage hospital and sitting by my bed was,’ (at this point Chris swore he felt a bit sick because Eddy went into raptures about a beautiful girl who was watching him) ‘an angel,’ he said.
She was the daughter of the horse breeder who had rescued him from the car and looked after him getting him to the hospital and arranging to have the car put right, etc. In short Eddy had fallen deeply in love with her and once he started to feel better, he knew he had to come home and sort out his affairs.
At breakfast the next morning, after his Mother had been made aware of Eddy’s return and her maternal instinct rose to the fore fussing and tutting over his injuries, he told his story again and admitted that he was going to have to break off his engagement to Gillian. Chris assured him that she had become rather indifferent to the situation, much to Eddy’s relief. Chris left his Mother and Eddy chatting in the kitchen while he wandered out into the back garden to sort out his jumbled thoughts.
Slowly a smile began to light up his face. Perhaps his period of convalescence would have to last a little longer than anticipated. Gillian would need some comfort over her broken engagement and then, who knows; perhaps he could persuade her to accompany him and do some teaching in the Gambia?