Sisters

The girls hustled off to the pub to celebrate Ruth’s engagement, more giddy than usual for a Friday afternoon. There was much laughter as Ruth waved her hand like an orchestra conductor and they pretended to be dazzled by her ring. They happily discussed wedding plans and listened to Ruth’s description of the little flat that her fiancé Jim was painting and decorating. Jim was a very ordinary young man, and the ring a modest design of diamond chips, but even the girls who secretly thought they could do a lot better envied Ruth’s opportunity to escape from the typing pool of the Acme Insurance Company and her parents’ home.

       “I have an idea!” said Louise, Ruth’s best friend. “Why don’t we all go to Ruth’s place tomorrow and have a painting party? Beer and snacks on us.”

There was an enthusiastic chorus of assent, followed by shrieks of laughter at jokes about the wedding night. Mimi, the newest typist in the office, remained on the edge of the group, smiling occasionally, but mostly keeping her eyes down as she sipped her lemonade and blushed at the more risqué jokes. Τhe group gradually dwindled until only Ruth and Louise remained.

               “Do you think Mimi will come? said Louise. “She’s been like your shadow all week. I thought you might be ready to be rid of her, but I didn’t want to be rude.”

               “I don’t mind,” said Ruth. “I remember what it’s like to be the new girl. Lord knows old Miss Throckmorton can be scary until you get used to her.”

              “At times there’s quite a likeness between you,” said Louise. “If you swapped clothes, and she did something with her hair.”

Ruth smoothed down her mini skirt which was just long enough to escape Miss Throckmorton’s censure in the office.

              “Thank you for not confusing my taste in clothing with hers,” she said. Ruth avidly followed the fashion magazines and was a huge fan of all the swinging sixties trends in makeup and clothes.  “She admired my outfit the other day. I offered to take her shopping, but she said her parents are very strict and religious. They don’t know that she came out with us this evening.”

              “No long-lost sisters that you know of?” said Louis, laughing. To her surprise, Ruth looked serious. She took a deep breath.

               “Funny you should say that. I need to tell you something. There could be, for all I know. I just found out that I was adopted at birth.”

Louise was stunned.

               “Wow. How did that come up?”

              “My mother took me aside. I thought she was going to give me the birds and the bees talk, which was bad enough, but then she blurted that out. She said it was in case Jim and I ever have children and I need to know my medical history.’

            “What took her so long?”

            “She said the right moment just never seemed to come up. To be fair, she apologized and was very upset. I came from a mother and baby home for unwed mothers. They were told I was healthy, but nothing about my birth mother.”

              “I don’t know how you’ve carried on as usual,” said Louise. “You’ve looked a bit peaky this week, but I thought it was just wedding nerves. Does Jim know?”

Ruth nodded.

                    “That’s been the only good thing about it. He said it didn’t matter a bit to him. He may not look like an oil painting, and he doesn’t have money, but he’s been my rock.”

She dissolved into tears. Louise gave her a big hug.

                  “It doesn’t matter to me either. You don’t need long lost sisters when you have me.”

The next day, the girls, including Mimi, descended on Ruth’s new flat. Ruth, face bare, hair pulled back in a ponytail, distributed paint brushes and rollers. With music blaring from the radio, work commenced amid much hilarity. Suddenly Mimi dropped her paint brush, liberally splattering herself.  She gave an exclamation of dismay. Ruth towed her off to the bedroom.

                 “Come on, you can wear some of my clothes. Lucky we’re about the same size.”

They returned, dressed almost identically and resumed work. The small room was painted without further mishap, and they had an impromptu picnic, sitting on the floor. Ruth hugged them all as they left.

                    “You girls are the best. You’ll be our first guests when we have furniture. Keep the clothes, Mimi. It’s the least I can do.”

Louise watched her leave.

                 “It’s uncanny how alike you two are when you’re dressed the same,” she said.

Monday morning found them all in the typing pool as usual under Miss Throckmorton’s watchful eye.

                  “How come your face is so naked? Did you oversleep this morning?” Louise whispered to Ruth. “And if I’m not mistaken, Mimi’s wearing makeup.”

                “I couldn’t find my foundation or my mascara this morning. I wonder if she pinched it on Saturday. No way to prove it, of course.”

Jim was waiting for her among the crowd of girls streaming out of the building that evening. Ruth happily linked arms with him.

             “I almost grabbed the wrong girl,” he said, laughing. “Up close, she didn’t look that much like you, but from a distance you’re peas in a pod.”

              “Must have been Mimi,” Ruth said. “I’m getting tired of being told how much alike we are. Come on. I need to buy some more makeup.”

The next day, Miss Throckmorton was on the prowl for small misdemeanors.  Mr. Lord was Miss Throckmorton’s supervisor. He periodically visited the typing pool to point out problems and make inane statements intended to motivate the typists. His visits always threw Miss Throckmorton into a tizzy. She marched up to Ruth’s desk and asked her to come into her office.

Ruth followed, puzzled.

               “Miss Anderson, I am aware you may be a little distracted with your wedding plans, but that is no excuse for arriving late,” she said.

                “I wasn’t late,” said Ruth, annoyed, but trying to hold her tongue.

                “I saw you. It is hard to miss that red cardigan of yours. The time was ten minutes past eight on the office clock. Please do not arrive tardy again.”

              “But I haven’t worn my red cardigan for days. I left it here, but I couldn’t find it when I returned to look for it. It must have been…”

                “Enough!” said Miss Throckmorton, angrily. “Return to your desk at once.”

Ruth returned to her desk, fuming. The others studiously kept their heads down. As they went out for lunch, she glanced in the break room. The missing red cardigan was hanging on the coat rack. Mimi approached her timidly at the end of the day.

                 “I’m sorry, but I borrowed your cardigan the other day and forgot to bring it back until today. I’ll tell her it was me.”

                 “How about asking before you borrow things next time?” Ruth said. “No point in saying anything now. It’ll just look as if I’m making excuses.”

                 “I’m beginning to think I’m losing my mind,” Ruth said to Louise in the pub that evening. “First my makeup, now my clothes. My mother thought she saw me on the bus the other day and couldn’t understand it as she had just left me at home. Mimi keeps popping up around people who know me. It’s happening too often to be coincidence, but it sounds crazy when I say it.”

              “Let’s go round to the flat and you can show me the progress you and Jim are making on the decorating,” Louise suggested. “It’ll get your mind off this.”

There was a light on in the flat. Ruth glanced at her watch.

             “Jim said he’d be here, but I didn’t expect him this early,” she said as they went up the narrow path to the front door. She was rummaging in her handbag for her keys when Louise suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her down below the level of the sitting room window.

             “What…” said Ruth as Louise shook her head frantically.

They raised themselves up just enough to see over the window ledge. Mimi, in Ruth’s clothes, was parading around the room, admiring herself in the mirror. Her gestures and movements were uncannily like Ruth’s. Ruth scrambled to her feet, unlocked the front door and flung it open before Louise could stop her.

                 “What do you think you’re doing?” Ruth said.

Mimi spun around. She stalked towards Ruth, a bitter, mocking smile on her lips.

                  “Well, hello, sister,” she said, in a low, hissing voice.

                   “Sister? I know we keep getting told we look alike, but you’re getting carried away. You can keep the clothes, but you need to get out of my house now and stay away.”

Mimi laughed, her eyes glittering.

                   “But we are sisters, dear. Twins. You were adopted first when you were a baby. I was the reject. I was in that home until I was six, being told that if I’d been as nice as my sister I’d have been adopted too.  Finally, the holy roller family took me to save me, the Lord watching me all the time, having the sin beaten out of me. When I applied for that typist job, I saw you. It was like looking at myself, as I might have been. I wanted to see what it was like to have a kind family and a nice boyfriend and be popular. It’s not fair.”

Ruth screamed as Mimi lunged at her and they fell backwards together. Louise yelled for help, desperately trying to restrain the thrashing Mimi who was pummeling Ruth. She gasped in relief as the door opened and Jim burst in. Together, they dragged Mimi, kicking and struggling, away from Ruth.

Weeks later at Ruth’s home, her mother wiped away tears.

                “Ruth, I beg you to believe me that we had no idea you had a sister. In those days, the mother and baby homes operated much as they pleased. Those young mothers were so ashamed, afraid and browbeaten that they couldn’t object to how they were treated or that their babies were being taken. The staff probably thought no one would want twins, so they decided it was best to adopt you separately.”

                  Ruth shook her head.

                 “I feel sorry for her. Maybe later, if she recovers from the nervous breakdown, we can get in touch with her. Her adoptive family don’t want anything to do with her now. So much for all their Christian charity. Meantime, I hope there are no other shocks for a while. I’d like a nice quiet wedding and a boring married life.”

                 “Whoa,” said Jim. “Are you telling me you’re not marrying me for romance and excitement?”

Half-laughing, half-crying, Ruth pretended to punch him and collapsed into his bear hug.