Pirouette (21 page)

forty-eight

Though the dance had been a huge success, the hardest part of the evening was still ahead. Back in the dressing room, the girls whipped off their costumes and removed their makeup. The time had come to face their parents.

Harriet was already standing in one corner of the green room, looking overwhelmed and dazed. Miss Sabto had gone to find Manfred and Vanessa and bring them backstage.

Simone took a deep breath and turned to Hannah. “Here goes,” she said.

Hannah gave Simone a reassuring hug. “I'll come with you, if you like.”

“No,” said Simone. “I have to do this alone.”

Simone walked across the green room carpet until she was standing in front of her mother. “Mum?”

“I think I'm in shock,” Harriet said.

“I know. I would be, too.”

“That performance was breathtaking. And Miss Sabto was right—it certainly was a huge
surprise. How long have you known you had a twin?”

“Since Candance—that's where we met.”

“Since
Candance?
But … why did you keep it a secret? When can I meet her?”

Simone held her mother's gaze. “You already have.”

Harriet looked even more confused. “You mean … ?”

“She's been living with you the entire term.”

Harriet let out a tiny gasp. “Then where were
you
?”

“At Hannah's house.”

“You went to live with total strangers?”

“Not strangers. Hannah's family.”

Harriet stumbled, and Simone led her over to a chair and sat her down.

“You swapped places with Hannah? But why?” asked Harriet.

Tell her. Just tell her,
thought Simone.

“I can't be a dancer,” she explained. “And I couldn't face going back to the VSD, or home where I'd have to lie to you daily or else disappoint you.” Tears pooled in her eyes, but Simone pressed on. “I've spent my whole life trying to be who you wanted me to be. I'm not sure you can understand this, but pretending to be Hannah was the only way I could really be me.”

Harriet fought to regain her composure. “What does that mean, you can't be a dancer?”

“I just … can't,” said Simone. “I always had such terrible stage fright. I used to throw up before every performance, and I was so exhausted
all the time
.”

Harriet was momentarily lost for words. Then she rallied. “We can fix that,” she said. “There are ways to cope with stage fright. We can get you some counseling. Make sure you get the rest you need.”

“No,” said Simone, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I
won't
be a dancer.”

“You wouldn't say that if you'd seen yourself onstage. You always look so composed and professional.”

“It's a performance, Mum. It isn't real.”

Harriet seemed not to have heard. “You're a wonderful dancer. And after all those years of training—”

“So I learned to dance,” Simone said bravely. “Do you think that all kids who study math should become mathematicians?”

“No, of course not, but it's not the same.”

“Yes, it is,” Simone insisted. “I understand why you raised me to become a dancer. You did it out of respect for my birth mother, as a kind of tribute—you thought there'd be no one else to follow in her footsteps. But there is—there's Hannah. She
wants
to be a professional dancer.”

“You could both be dancers,” Harriet said.

“No!” Simone's voice was choked with frustration. “You're still not listening.”

“I am, Simone. And I still say you can have a wonderful life and a brilliant career. That's all I want … all I've ever wanted for you.”

“Why?” asked Simone, years of resentment surfacing. “Because it would reflect well on you?”

Harriet flinched. “That's not fair, Simone.”

“Isn't it?” Simone's voice had risen in anguish. “I hate disappointing you,” she said, “but I wish you could love me for who I am, not what I do.”

“I do!” cried Harriet. “Of course I do.”

A charged silence split the air as Harriet tried to come to grips with what Simone had said. “I do love you, Simone,” she repeated. “I'm … very sorry you had to doubt it.” Finally, she reached for her daughter and Simone let out a small sob as her mother embraced her. “I still can't believe you've been living with strangers.”

“They're wonderful people.” Simone sniffed and blew her nose. “They were sitting next to you, you know.”

“Really, but how—”

“Hannah bought the tickets,” Simone continued. “I told her parents and some of her friends that the VSD had invited selected students from other dance schools to perform, and that I—meaning Hannah—was one of them. They all believed me.”

“Well, even I couldn't tell you apart … not in real life, and not onstage. That was an amazing performance, and you were both fantastic. You've obviously kept up your dancing … ”

Simone nodded. “Three times a week. At Hannah's dance school. And Miss Sabto's been coaching us the last few Sunday afternoons. Ever since she learned the truth. It was Hannah's idea that we dance together—she wanted to show her parents what she could do.”

Harriet frowned. “I'm shocked the school colluded with you.”

“They almost didn't,” said Simone. “They only found out three weeks ago. Hannah begged them not to tell you till the end of term.”

“Hang on,” said Harriet. “If you haven't been at the VSD, then where have you been going to school?”

“Carmel College. It's a really academic school, and I hope you'll let me stay there for now. It would be awful to change schools mid-year.”

Harriet lifted a shaky hand to her head and smoothed down her hair.

“Mum, are you okay?”

Harriet sighed. “I suppose I am. It's just—it all seems so unbelievable. And finding out I haven't had
you
at home all this time … I feel as if I've been living a kind of lie.”

“How do you think
I
felt when I first found out I had a twin?”

Harriet squeezed her daughter's hand. “I can only imagine. I wonder why the adoption agency never told us … ”

“I bet Hannah's parents are wondering the same thing.” As Simone spoke, the Segal family entered the green room. “Here they are now. They're coming to meet you.”

forty-nine

After Simone had entered the green room, Hannah went looking for her family. She was still fired up with adrenaline, still basking in the memory of that wild applause. What had her parents thought of the performance? It had been too dark in the audience to make out their faces when she and Simone had taken their bows, but surely they'd been bowled over by it. Surely they'd understand her now, and forgive her everything.

But what if, instead of seeing what a gifted dancer she was and how wonderful it was that she had a twin, all they could see was the deception?

It was a sobering thought, but when she found her parents outside with Miss Sabto, about to enter the stage door, she ran towards them. “Mum! Dad!” At the sound of her voice, Vanessa and Manfred turned toward her. “I've missed you so much,” she said, flinging her arms around each in turn. “Wait, you do know that—”

“It's been months since we've seen you? Of course,” said Manfred. “I think we figured it out almost as soon as we saw you both onstage.”

“And your teacher confirmed it,” Vanessa agreed.

Hannah shot Miss Sabto a grateful smile.

“Now it makes sense,” Vanessa was saying. “The pierced ears, the interest in reading, the switch to French … And oh, that poor dentist!”

Despite her anguish, Hannah couldn't help but laugh.

“You and Simone might be genetically identical,” Manfred continued where his wife left off, “but you're not entirely interchangeable. You're two different people.”

“Then you're not angry?”

“We're your family, Hannah my love.” Oh, it was wonderful to hear her father call her that. “The day we adopted you, we signed on to love you no matter what.”

Tears sprang to Hannah's eyes and she blinked them away.

“So,” said Vanessa gently, “what's it been like at the VSD?”

Hannah thought of all the ups and downs, the triumphs and the disappointments. Ultimately, it had all been worth it, and she knew without a doubt that despite the hardships and the challenges, this was where her future lay. “It's great to be in a place where dance is taken seriously. But I was pretty homesick,” she admitted. “What did you think of that performance?”

“We could hardly believe our eyes when we saw the two of you onstage,” Vanessa said. “That dance was magnificent.”

“It was,” Manfred agreed. “I only wish we could watch it again.”

“You can,” said Miss Sabto. “We thought the dance was so unique we've already filmed it and put it on YouTube—a bit of publicity for the school.”

Vanessa put her arm around Hannah's shoulder and pulled her close. “I can't wait to watch that performance again. Maybe next time I'll be able to work out which dancer is you—though you were both superb. I was almost convinced you
could
become a professional dancer … ”

“She could,” said Miss Sabto, “if you let her stay at this school.”

“So, can I?” begged Hannah. “Can I stay?”

Manfred and Vanessa exchanged a look. “Dance is a tough career path,” Manfred began, “and there's no guarantee you'll even succeed.”

“Dad's right,” said Vanessa. “It's such a competitive field. And the slightest injury can end a career.”

Hannah stood firm. “That's a risk I want to take.”

Her parents exchanged another look, silently reaching an understanding.

“It's not what we'd have chosen for you … ” Manfred said.

Hannah waited with bated breath, though a part of her knew they were about to yield.

“But if it's what you
really
want … ”

“It is. It is.”

“Then we'll help you achieve it.”

For a second, Hannah was too choked up to speak. She hugged each parent in turn while Miss Sabto looked on, smiling broadly.

“It's getting chilly,” said the teacher. “I think it's time we went inside.”

“Right,” said Hannah. “We should find Simone. By the way, where's Adam?”

“We left him chatting with Dani,” said Vanessa. “You'll see him soon.”

“I'll say goodbye now,” said Miss Sabto. “It was lovely to meet you.”

After Miss Sabto left, Hannah and her parents were about to enter the building when Hannah spotted Dani and Adam nearby. “Wait just a minute,” she said to her parents.

“Hey, you two!” Without waiting to see how they'd react once they noticed her, or if they even knew which twin she was, Hannah threw her arms around each in turn. “If you only knew how much I've missed you—”

“That was an awesome performance, Hannah,” Dani said, “but you don't deserve to be congratulated. Why didn't you confide in me? You were supposed to be my closest friend.”

“I was. I am … ”

“Then you've got a funny way of showing it.” Dani glowered at Hannah, who looked at her pleadingly.

“You're not going to stay mad at me forever, are you? Dani, you can't!”

Dani shrugged, then relented. “I guess not,” she said. Then, “Where's the bathroom? I need to pee.”

Hannah pointed Dani in the right direction, then turned on Adam. “
You evil child!
Do you know how much you scared us with those nasty texts? I should wring your neck.”

Adam looked sheepish under her gaze.

She gave his shoulders a little shake, then pulled him close.

“I was just pissed off,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Well, maybe you had reason to be,” Hannah admitted, her voice softening. “Simone told me what a lousy sister she was. I guess you just missed having
me
around. If it's any consolation, I missed you too.” She hugged him again, making it clear that all was forgiven.

The intermission was over, and though the green room was now full of dancers ready to go onstage, Hannah had no trouble spotting Simone. “There she is. She's with her mum.”

“Oh, the lady who was sitting next to us,” Vanessa said.

Once the introductions were made, Manfred grabbed hold of Harriet, taking her breath away with one of his enormous hugs, and Simone looked on, unable to suppress a smile.

“Thank you,” said Manfred. “Thank you for looking after our precious daughter.”

Harriet composed herself enough to answer, “Thank
you
for looking after mine.”

Then Simone stepped forward. “I'm sorry,” she said to Hannah's parents, but they were already putting their arms around her, pulling her into their joint embrace.

“What for?” asked Manfred.

“You were both so wonderful to me, and I … it was an imposition.”

“No need to apologize,” Vanessa said. “If I was in your shoes, I might have done the same.

“I'm sorry too,” Hannah said to Harriet. “I know I gave you a really hard time.”

Harriet nodded. “You did, at times,” she said, giving Hannah an awkward pat, “but I realize now that it wasn't deliberate.”

“Can … can you understand why we changed places?” asked Simone, looking from Manfred to Vanessa.

“Of course,” Manfred said. “Who wouldn't take the opportunity to walk in someone else's shoes?”

“Or in my case, dance in them,” said Hannah.

Manfred chuckled. “Exactly. Even if you'd both had exactly the lives you wanted, I bet you'd still have swapped places—for the very same reason that people read. The closest most of us can get to someone else's life is through a book, but only identical twins can do it for real.”

As soon as he mentioned the word “book,” Hannah and Simone exchanged a smile, knowing he'd be unstoppable once he started on literature. Sure enough, he continued. “Stories of people swapping places are as old as the hills. There's
The Prince and the Pauper
, and
the story of Jacob and Esau in the Bible. Who wouldn't change places—experience another life—if they had the chance? For identical twins, it's almost a birthright.”

He wrapped his arms around both the girls. “Double the beauty. Double the talent.” He caught Harriet's eye. “Did you know your daughter was a twin?”

“No,” said Harriet. “I was certain she was an only child. Although I did wonder why she came back from Candance almost a different person.”

Vanessa smiled. “I know what you mean.”

“If we'd known Hannah had a twin,” said Manfred, “I'm sure we would have tried to adopt them both. In fact, I wonder … could we be godparents to Simone?”

Hannah and Simone beamed at the prospect, and after a brief pause, Harriet nodded. “As long as I can be a godmother to Hannah, too.”