Can't Get You Out of My Head Page 3

‘Just kidding.’ Nanna smiled. ‘They’d take one look at your room and sack you.’

  Helping herself to a bag of cheese and onion crisps, her absolute favourite, Beth sat back down at the kitchen table and ate them, thoughtfully. The contents of the bag were swiftly consumed, and she grabbed another. Through noisy mouthfuls, she said, ‘I guess I might fancy trying hairdressing.’

  ‘Good. Well, that’s a start. Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade your dad to stop combing his hair forward. He’s fooling no one. So …?’

  ‘I could try to get an apprenticeship, I suppose.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  Beth sighed. ‘But I should’ve tried harder at my exams. I’m such a … wally.’ She was briefly reminded of her old friend, Charlie. Shaking her head, she added, ‘I am sorry. I wish I’d got better results.’

  Nanna put her arms around her. ‘We all wish that, but it’s done now. You’re probably a chatterbox, like your dad was at school.’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s just … Oh never mind.’ Beth stared at the floor. ‘Are you ashamed of me?’

  Nanna’s embrace tightened. ‘Never. We all love you to pieces.’

  ‘Thank goodness. I couldn’t bear it if you were ashamed. I did try, I promise I did. I wanted to listen to the teachers but …’ Tears of frustration pricked at her eyes.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It was just difficult to concentrate on the teachers and her. She was always telling me what to do. She’s gotten more and more bossy these past few years.’

  ‘Who has?’

  ‘No one. It’s nothing. Don’t worry.’

  ‘I do worry. Tell me. Who’s being bossy?’ Nanna drew herself up to her full height, preparing to defend her granddaughter.

  Beth hesitated. Eventually, she answered, ‘Um … It’s Lisa. She keeps interfering.’

  With a confused expression, Nanna asked, ‘Who’s Lisa?’

  Five

  When Beth Campbell began life, she was one of a pair of twins. They shared the same world. They both knew, and recognised, their mum’s voice, and were comforted by the sound of her heartbeat. Beth’s twin would often float by, and they would be reassured by each other’s presence.

  Then, one day, when they were still tiny foetuses, Beth’s sister’s heart, unexpectedly, stopped beating. Curled in a little ball; to Beth she seemed too still and silent. Beth didn’t understand what had happened. At this early stage of her life, she had no conscious thought. But somehow, instinctively, she knew there was something very wrong with her sister’s body. Frightened of losing her, Beth offered her a way to remain. Without words, she suggested, ‘Share my life?’

  Having her twin inside her head was wonderful. As a small child, Beth always had someone to talk to when the lights went out at bedtime. The sisters giggled together all the time. Her twin was fascinated by the story of Alice in Wonderland, and was happy to recite it whenever Beth couldn’t get to sleep.

  ‘Why do you like Alice in Wonderland so much?’

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose I just love all the unusual things that happen. A cat that can become invisible, a dormouse that lives in a teapot. Then, of course, there are the twins …’

  ‘Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Do they remind you of us?’ Beth giggled.

  ‘A bit.’ Her twin laughed too.

  Where Beth was hesitant, her sister was forthright, and they worked well as one.

  It was only when she started school, that Beth realised the uniqueness of their situation. The more she talked to the other children about their families, the more it became obvious that no one else had a twin living inside them.

  She made friends with her neighbours, Michelle and Charlie, and it was clear that they too were alone in their own heads. She decided not to mention her unusual circumstances to anyone.

  Beth was at school, when her sister chose a name. They were all practising writing in their special handwriting books, with their sharp little pencils.

  Envious of Emma, Jack, Sarah, and all the other children with short names, Beth painstakingly copied all the letters from her full name. E-l-i-s-a-b-e-t-h.

  The teacher pointed out that her parents had chosen the more unusual form of spelling. ‘Most people spell it with a z instead of an s. The Queen does too.’

  ‘The Queen?’

  ‘Yes, she’s called Elizabeth.’

  ‘Really?’ Beth felt very important.

  Then, the teacher said, ‘You can make another name from the letters, look.’ She pointed at the end of the word. ‘There’s the name you like to be called ‒ Beth.’

  Beth focused on the letters. Learning her sounds took all her concentration. ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘But you can also make the name Lisa. Do you see?’ The teacher’s finger moved back to the L.

  ‘I want that name,’ Beth’s twin said. Although, of course, no one else could hear her.

  ‘You want me to call you Lisa?’ Beth’s response also took place in her head. No one in the class was ever aware of their conversations.

  ‘Yes. I like it.’

  ‘It would be good … like Miss Parkinson says ‒ it would mean we both came from “Elisabeth”.’

  ‘Perfect,’ her twin said.

  And that was that.

  The twins learned everything together. Lisa always persuaded Beth to try new things, and Beth never thought to question her authority.

  When Charlie nearly drowned at their tenth birthday party, Beth was extremely grateful that she didn’t have to go through the experience alone. Having Lisa’s support meant everything that day.

  And yet … there was a tiny part of her that occasionally wondered … what must it be like to be the same as everyone else? Was it nice to make your own decisions?

  As the girls grew older, Beth became aware of a change in Lisa. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she’d say Lisa was restless. Beth didn’t like to think too much about how things must be for her sister. But the older she got, and the more freedom she was allowed, the more she began to question how Lisa experienced life.

  Her conclusion was, it must be rather claustrophobic to live inside someone else’s head. Beth had always feared confined spaces, and the thought of being shut in, caused her extreme anxiety.

  She found it best not to dwell too much on what it must be like to be in Lisa’s place.

  Sometimes, she agreed to do things that Lisa suggested, like buying the dreadful black tattoos, not because she wanted to do them, but because she felt bad that Lisa was unable to do anything for herself.

  Beth was aware of a constant guilt that gnawed at her insides. Incapable of properly putting it in to words, all she could think was, why did I survive, and poor Lisa didn’t?

  As the school work became more difficult, Lisa stopped offering her support. She was less inclined to praise her sister when she finished all the questions on time, and she failed to compliment her on her beautiful drawings. Lisa’s voice took on a sarcastic tone. No longer full of admiration, she often chose instead, to mock Beth’s efforts.

  By the time puberty hit, the easy-going closeness of the girls’ younger years was forgotten, and their bedtime chats were far from jovial. Now, they were all about Lisa moaning that Beth ought to try being more adventurous, or that she was wasting the precious gift of life, that she’d been fortunate enough to keep hold of.

  There was simply no getting away from it – Lisa was stuck in an unimaginably isolated world. And it was Beth who’d put her there!

  Six

  ‘Tell me, Beth. Who’s Lisa?’

  ‘She’s … my … my … oh, she’s no one.’

  Nanna was unconvinced. ‘You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?’

  ‘I … um …’

  ‘I mean anything, darling.’

  ‘I know. It’s …’

  ‘If another girl was treating you badly, you should’ve told someone. I can’t abide bullies. You know that. You remember how I dealt with that one when I was at school?’


  ‘No? What did you do?’

  ‘Are you sure I’ve never told you?’

  ‘Definitely not. Tell me now, please?’

  ‘Oh, she was horrible, as thick as mince, as my dear Malcolm would’ve said, and just plain mean.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘OK. Well … I’m not saying it was exactly the right thing to do, but … what you need to know is, she was horrible to all the other girls, and I just couldn’t stand it any more.’

  ‘Nanna?’ Beth asked, apprehensively. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Oh all right. I waited until she went to the lavatory and I … well, I pushed her head down the pan.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘I did!’ Nanna chuckled. ‘She was lucky I didn’t flush.’

  Beth couldn’t help grinning at her nanna, she was tiny and she’d always been as skinny as a rake, but she’d clearly been a feisty one, even then. ‘Didn’t you get in trouble?’

  ‘There was a lot going on, the teachers had bigger fish to fry!’ Nanna returned to their previous topic. ‘Anyway, tell me. Who was this Lisa? A school bully?’

  ‘No. It’s not that.’

  ‘What is it, then?’

  ‘The thing was, it was just hard to concentrate because she ‒’

  ‘You’re such a moany bitch!’ Lisa blew a loud raspberry in Beth’s ear.

  ‘Because she what?’

  ‘Don’t you dare slag me off to Nanna.’ There was threat in Lisa’s voice.

  Beth shook her head. ‘Oh … nothing. I should’ve concentrated more at school, that’s all. You’re right, I was a bit of a chatterbox.’ At the thought of the bully’s head in the toilet, she asked, ‘So tell me, Nanna, what did the other girls at school say?’

  ‘I was their hero for the rest of the term!’

  Lisa was less than impressed with Beth’s choice of hair salon. ‘Of all the places you could’ve worked, you’ve gone for a boring hairdressers in a quiet parade of shops. Why the hell have you picked Daphne’s?’

  ‘Nanna knows the manageress. She sorted it out for me.’

  ‘Christ, you are dull. I would’ve chosen one of those flashy places in town.’

  ‘You know how I am around fashionable people. It’s awkward. Those people scare the hell out of me.’

  Lisa’s disappointment was obvious. ‘Fashionable people! Listen to you. You could be fashionable too. Why do you let everybody intimidate you?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you should be. We’re going to be stuck in there, day in and day out. Forever!’

  ‘It’s a nice place.’

  ‘It’s a shit-heap.’

  ‘You say potato, I say potahto.’ It was a song, Beth had heard Nanna sing.

  ‘Nobody says potahto, you idiot!’

  ‘I guess not. Sorry, Lisa.’

  Her sister wasn’t done yet. ‘That place is awful. With all the trendy hairdressers in town, you’ve managed to end up with a job in the “little old lady poodle parlour” around the corner.’

  ‘It’ll be good for me. Those other places are too flashy. Nanna says I’ll learn my craft from the bottom up.’

  ‘Learn your craft? Learn your craft! You’ll be washing old ladies’ hair and sweeping the floor.’

  ‘Why do you keep doing this?’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Making me feel bad about myself. Why can’t you just be happy for me? Like you were when we were kids. You used to be supportive and nice …’

  ‘And where did that get me? I’m still stuck in your head, watching you live your life, and watching you mess it up.’

  ‘Just because I don’t want to take risks, the way you do. You have no idea what it’s like to have to sit exams and remember facts …’

  ‘I have no idea what it’s like to do anything!’

  Beth experienced the usual rush of guilt. ‘I know. I’m sorry, Lisa. But … I’ve got a job, can you at least try to be happy for me, please?’

  ‘Happy? You got crap exam results and now you’ve got a crap job. Forgive me if I’m not jumping for joy. What a waste of a life.’

  And there it was again. Lately, Lisa was repeatedly returning to this theme.

  ‘I’m not wasting it. I’m living it. I’m grateful to Nanna for getting me the job.’

  ‘Don’t be. She’s done you no favours.’

  ‘Why are you nasty all the time?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You were always yakking in my ear. That’s why I did so badly at school. You laughed at me when I couldn’t add up the sums. You smirked at any attempt I made at literacy. How the hell was I supposed to finish an exam with you shouting, “wrong” in a sarcastic voice, every single time I tried to answer a question?’

  ‘What you wrote didn’t look right to me. Pardon me for commenting.’

  ‘It wasn’t helpful. Now, please, just let me have a go at this job. Can you try to be glad for me? For us? In it together, like when we were kids. OK?’

  ‘Fine. I’ll try. But if it was up to me …’

  Exasperation exploded from Beth. ‘Well, it’s not up to you. Things are up to me. Remember?’

  ‘Yes, of course, things are up to you. Things are always up to you!’ Lisa’s tone became snide and resentful.

  Beth instantly regretted the argument. Trying to change the mood, she gently reminded Lisa, ‘It’s not my fault.’

  ‘What isn’t?’

  ‘You know what. It’s not my fault I lived.’

  ‘And it’s not my fault I died!’ Lisa sulked.

  Beth pushed the door nervously, not sure what to expect from her first day at work. Before she was even properly in the salon, she was hit by an array of chemical smells. Met by a middle-aged lady with severely back-combed hair, it was less than a minute before she was presented with her very own tabard. Then, together with the back-combed lady, whose name was Kath, they embarked on a whistle-stop tour of the salon. It was immediately obvious there wasn’t a single client under the age of seventy.

  ‘I bloody told you it’d be like this.’ Lisa made no attempt to put a brave face on it.

  Every so often one of the customers popped out from under the dryer, like a piece of well-done toast, and their hair was teased and tweaked.

  Lisa gave a fake yawn. ‘Another one who wants to look like the Queen on a friggin’ stamp.’

  And so it went on, for the whole day. Some of them needed a trim, which resulted in Beth being ‘taught’ how to sweep the floor. Some of them needed a perm, which resulted in her wanting to throw up due to the bad egg smell. She had half an hour to eat her packed lunch in the tiny back room that doubled as kitchen and store cupboard, before it was back to the grindstone. Unfortunately, her short lunch was far from a peaceful break. Lisa spent the entire time berating her for taking the job in the first place.

  By mid-afternoon, Beth was declared ready to learn how to wash hair.

  Leaning the chosen victim back into the basin with shaking hands, her heart hammered in her chest.

  ‘Why the hell are you nervous?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Shush. Go away!’

  ‘Why is your heart beating like a race horse. It’s just an old lady.’ Lisa seemed determined to put her off.

  Distracted for a second, the water spray slipped out of Beth’s grasp. A gush of water made its way down the customer’s back, through her woolly cardigan and beyond her crisp blouse.

  ‘Idiot!’ Lisa sounded delighted.

  ‘Perhaps if you’d just keep quiet.’ Beth wanted nothing more than to learn to do the job alone.

  As the day ended and Beth gave the floor its final sweep, Kath approached her with a small brown envelope in her hand.

  ‘I haven’t had time to sort you out properly, sweetie. It’s all dead confusing and I need my husband, Beppe to help me with the paperwork side of things. Anyway, I thought I’d give you some cash for today, just until I get sorted, then I’ll pay you weekly. OK?’


  Beth nodded. Is some cash OK? Too right, some cash is OK. She’d thought she was going to have to wait at least a week to get some money. It took all her restraint not to snatch the envelope from Kath’s well-manicured hand. Instead, she politely took the brown envelope, thanked her boss, and skipped out of the door.

  Racing through the streets with the envelope clutched in her hand, Beth was determined not to open it until she was home. Despite Lisa’s protests that if it were her money she’d want to find out immediately, she ran on.

  Arriving home, she noted her mum was still at the hospital, and her dad wasn’t home yet from his job at the engineering firm. As Beth was working now, Nanna had no need to come over during the day. So she was alone in the house. More or less! ‘How much do you think I got paid, Lisa?’

  ‘I haven’t a clue.’

  ‘I never thought I’d get paid this quick. She can take as long as she likes to sort it all out, if it means I’m going to get cash every day.’ Beth walked into her room and flopped on to the bed. Tearing the edge off the envelope, she tipped it up. Oh, the excitement when a ten-pound note fluttered slowly onto the bed. ‘Yes!’

  ‘Is that what you were expecting?’

  ‘Lisa, it’s £10! Do you think she made a mistake? It seems so much. Think of all the things we can buy. We could go to Woolworths for pick ’n’ mix.’ At this point, she was delighted with her booty, she wasn’t even thinking about the fact that she was going to have to go back and do it all again the next day.

  ‘That’s absolutely crap. You’ve been there all day. What a mug.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Yeah, you are. I wouldn’t do all that for a tenner. You’re knackered and your back aches from sweeping that friggin’ floor.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t.’

  ‘Why do you even bother lying to me?’ Lisa sighed.

  ‘I’m not. I’m just …’

  ‘So, are we getting pick ’n’ mix or what?’

  Seven

  Beth had been working at Daphne’s for six months when she met Mario.

  When they were younger, the twins had talked a lot about love at first sight. There were piles of teenage magazines poking out from under Beth’s bed, and every issue was bursting with tales of love. By the time they were sixteen, Beth, Michelle and all their school friends were desperate to have a proper boyfriend.