Here is a Ghost Story with a cyclical structure and charcters whose profession is supported by a perfectly unbreakable alibi: they are time- travelling thieves!
There were two of them and they were twins. Not identical mind you because one was a girl and one was a boy, but they shared the same dirty straw-coloured hair and eyes as blue as Siamese cats. They even blinked in unison.
‘Light seems to like the twins – they gleam when you catch sight of them,’ said Gloria to Cora after they had become firm friends. A funny thing perhaps to say. Yet Cora had understood. Perfectly.
Gloria took the twins shopping in the store. She talked about discounts and then had to explain. They smiled at each other when she took out any money.
Only later would Gloria learn of their less-than-honest ways. And by then she was enthralled by their adventures, by their lack of indebtedness to anything, except for the code.
‘Oh we obey nothing except the code,’ said Fred dipping her ginger biscuit in a china mug of tea.’ It’s simply our way.’
The Twins loved the cafe. Gloria liked to treat them. It was safer with their pecuniary habits.
‘Who can see you today? Who knows you are here?’ said Gloria, glad of her treacle black coffee. These Christmas shifts were killing her. She felt dead behind her eyes. Every toe wore a plaster.
‘Oh you can,’ said Peter kindly. ‘And that young friend of yours with the hurt heart. And then the rest of them, perhaps sometimes. Only sometimes.’
‘But why?’
‘We are only allowed to loiter with friends if we are working. It’s the code. Unfinished business is our metier .’ Peter nudged his sister and helped himself to a biscuit too.
Gloria shook her head. ‘I’m still in the dark, as you can see. And she closed her eyes showing off her eyelashes that looked like a colony of bee stings.
Peter shrugged and blew Gloria a kiss. ‘ We found the watches you needed.’
‘Found?’
They were gathering dust near the Spanish Steps. About fifty years ago. No one will ever catch us. Peter pushed another ginger biscuit in his sister’s direction. He traced the exposed geometric design on the display plate; humming along to Frosty the Snowman on the store radio.
‘So you stole them? ‘ Gloria’s voice turned gravelly.
Isn’t Christmas memorable this year?’ said Fred elbowing her brother and pointing to the immense picture window through which they could all see snow falling. ‘Faintly through the universe’ she added reading aloud.’ Upon all the living and the dead.’
Peter sighed theatrically. ‘The more cynical label us magpies.’
When in fact you’re just time-travelling pickpockets? said Gloria delicately rubbing both eyes, mindful of her mascara.
‘Only for you Gloria!’ laughed Fred. ‘Only for you.’ And then the twins bowed their heads. And Gleamed.
Perfectly in unison.
