Pirouette (22 page)

fifty

As the three parents talked, Hannah thought of all that had transpired since the dress rehearsal the previous morning, when the Year Ten dancers had finally found out the truth. She'd never forget how Jess, Mitch, and Matt had reacted—the shock on their faces—and how Matt had finally approached her and Simone.

He'd looked from one to the other. “Simone?” he'd asked.

“Yes?” said Simone.

“You never did go out with Tom, did you?”

“I did,” Simone answered. “But I never went out with you. Before today, you hadn't seen me yet this year.”

“So all this time,” Matt said, turning to Hannah, “
you've
been pretending to be someone you're not?”

Hannah forced herself to meet his eye. “Yes,” she admitted.

“I should have known,” said Matt. “Simone was never interested in me before. And you … it was all an act. Why? So that I'd help you with your dancing?” He sounded so hurt, so … betrayed.

“No,” said Hannah, appalled he could think that. “Everything that happened between you and me—all that was real.”

“Then why couldn't you trust me enough to tell me the truth?”

Simone had quietly moved away to give them some time alone.

“Simone and I promised each other we'd never risk it. But Matt,” Hannah pleaded, “I was dying to tell you … ”

Matt studied her face, trying to decide just what to believe.

“We couldn't take chances. The school didn't know!”

Matt seemed to have come to a decision, because suddenly his stance relaxed. “I've been pretty lousy to you these last few weeks, haven't I?” he said, his voice softening.

Hannah felt a ballooning of hope. “Yes, you have. So maybe we're even.”

“I'm sorry, Sim—”

“Hannah,” she said. “Hannah Segal.”

Matt took a step closer. “I've missed you, Hannah Segal.” And before she knew it he was kissing her, and it was almost like old times, only better, because she no longer had to hide the truth.

Later, when Mitch finally understood that Hannah hadn't betrayed Matt, and that Simone had only ever gone out with Tom, he'd agreed to phone Tom and persuade him to come to the performance.

“Tell him Simone wants him in the audience, but don't tell him why,” said Hannah. “That's for Simone to do. Tell him Sam and Liam will be there too.”

True to their word, Sam and Liam had come to Melbourne for the Easter holidays. Hannah had bought tickets for all three of them, leaving them at the box office to be collected.

Now—with the performance behind them and their true identities revealed—Hannah and Simone slipped out of the greenroom to talk in private.

Hannah grinned at her sister. “We did it, Sim.”

“I guess we did. But it isn't over. I still haven't seen Tom … ”

For a moment, Hannah was quiet. “He's here, though,” she said. “That's a good sign.”

The second half of the performance was almost over. The two girls waited in the foyer of the theater, and when at last the audience came trooping out, they sought out their friends.

Since she was a head taller than anyone else, Sam was unmissable. On one side of her stood Liam. On the other stood Tom. He'd already seen them, but his face was unreadable, and Hannah wondered what he was thinking. “I'll go talk to Sam and Liam,” she said to Simone. “You deal with Tom.”

Here he was, not three meters away, with his dark, tousled hair and bottomless eyes. The pull Simone felt toward him was stronger than ever. He was looking right at her. What was he thinking? Would he ever forgive her?

They stared at each other across a space that was slowly filling with people.

And suddenly Tom was walking toward her.

A part of Simone wished she could run and hide, but she didn't move. By the time he reached her, her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

For a second, Tom just stood and stared, his eyes roaming over her every feature. “Which one are you?”

The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine. She longed to touch him. “Simone. I'm Simone.”

“And at Candance?”

“It was me in class the very first morning. After that, it was Hannah. We'd met that lunchtime.”

“How about the night at Koko Black?”

“That was me. It was Hannah who arranged the date.”

“And when we got back to Melbourne?

“Hannah arranged our meeting at Luna Park. But it was me who came.”

“Sunday afternoons at the beach, and at the botanical gardens?”

“Me, all me.”

Tom lowered his voice, as if afraid to hear the answer. “The Dance Spectacular?”

“I wasn't there.”

“So you weren't the one who was kissing Matt?”

“No, that was Hannah.”

Simone had the smallest sense that a weight was lifting …

“Tell me everything,” said Tom.

Simone spoke, haltingly at first, and then more fluently. Now and again, Tom interjected, saying things like “Yeah, I wondered why you sounded so bossy that day on the phone,” or “You were always so much sweeter when it was just the two of us.”

When Simone paused for breath, Tom raked a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I just wish you'd told me the truth,” he said.

“I wanted to,” Simone admitted. “I came so close to telling you, but Hannah trusted me to keep it a secret … ”

They'd left the theater and reached a bench in the courtyard. Simone perched on the wooden slats and Tom sat beside her.

“I was gutted when I thought it was you kissing that guy … ”

“I'd never do that,” said Simone.

“I know,” said Tom. “I think I realized that when I saw you and your sister onstage. But I was mad at you for not being honest.”

“And now?” asked Simone.

“I'm still trying to get over my injured pride, but I understand. You kept your sister's secret—that means you're trustworthy, and loyal too.”

A slight breeze had started up, stirring Tom's well-
remembered scent. It overpowered Simone's senses, almost making her forget that she hadn't actually apologized. “I'm sorry I caused you so much grief.”

Tom turned an anxious face toward her. “I should be the one apologizing. If I hadn't stormed off after the Dance Spectacular, Hannah might have explained.”

Simone shrugged. “You were too upset to stay and listen.”

“I guess it serves me right,” he said. “These past few weeks have been … God, I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too.”

He put both arms around her, and she was so wrapped up in that one long, enchanted moment she forgot her name and who she was. It didn't seem to matter at all.

fifty-one

Though the girls had made plans to spend one week of the holidays at Hannah's house and the other at Simone's, that night Hannah went home to Armadale and Simone went back to North Fitzroy. As Simone sat beside her mother in the car, they talked more openly and honestly than they had in years. And this time, Harriet listened.

“I'm sorry you had to spend so much money on my dancing—the leotards, the costumes, the expensive pointe shoes … I hope you're not angry.”

Harriet sighed. “No, I'm not angry. At least, not at you. I should have known you were fed up with dancing. I should have seen the signs. And I shouldn't have pushed you into something you didn't want to do.”

“You didn't know,” said Simone. Now that she didn't have to return to the VSD, she could afford to be generous.

Harriet braked gently at a stop sign. “Do you want to keep dancing just as a hobby?”

“No,” said Simone. “I've done enough dancing to last me a lifetime.”

The car turned a corner, and Simone felt a rush of affection for the house she hadn't seen in months. It seemed smaller than she remembered, but warm and familiar.

Harriet led the way into the kitchen. “Do you have sugar in your tea?”

“No. Why?”

Harriet chuckled. “I guess it wouldn't matter if you did.”

They drank their tea with the cheesecake Harriet had uncharacteristically stopped to buy.

“I was wondering,” Simone said later, peering into the living room that looked more like a shrine to dance than a home, “do you think we could take down some of these photos?”

“Sure,” said Harriet. “We can replace them with … whatever you like. Maybe some photos of you and Hannah and a few of your friends at Carmel College.”

Simone smiled, relieved that she'd be allowed to stay at Hannah's school for the rest of the year, since Manfred had already paid the non-refundable annual fees.

“What about next year,” Simone had asked, “and the year after that?”

Harriet said she couldn't afford a private school, but Manfred knew of several academically selective schools that offered full scholarships to deserving students. Given Simone's outstanding record, he was sure she'd receive one. Harriet agreed that Simone had earned the right to attend a school of her choosing.

“Thanks, Mum,” Simone had said. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

The Segals' phone had not stopped ringing all day long, so quickly had the word spread. From close friends to mere acquaintances, suddenly everyone was interested in Hannah now that they knew she had a twin. By mid-afternoon, the dance on YouTube had already scored nearly a million hits, and phone calls were pouring in from the media with requests for interviews and information.

The most exciting phone call came from a filmmaker who wanted to make a documentary about the twins.

Hannah basked in the attention, which continued all week. As the weather grew cooler and the autumn air crisper, Good Friday ushered in a few quieter days. Passover and Easter coincided that year; the Segals were invited to the Starks' for an Easter egg hunt, and the Starks joined the Segals for the Passover Seder.

Then Hannah and Simone went on a double date with Matt and Tom. Now that both guys knew that neither was trying to steal the other's girlfriend, they were getting on fine.

“So, we got this phone call this morning,” Hannah was saying, “from a producer who wants to make a documentary about us.”

“Cool,” said Matt.

But Tom was watching Simone with concern. “How do you feel about it, considering you're not so keen on the limelight?”

Simone was playing with his hand. “It's kind of exciting. I think our story is a good one, and good stories are meant to be shared. I said I'd do it as long as I don't have to dance again—I don't mind them using the footage from YouTube.”

The four were crowded around a small table in Acland Street, and Matt's knee accidentally brushed Simone's when he pulled in his chair. At the sudden touch, she jerked away, pulling her chair closer to Tom's.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Simone. I don't know how I thought that Hannah was you. You're just as uptight as you've always been.”

“Watch it,” said Hannah. “That's my sister you're insulting.” But he'd said it good-naturedly, and they were all laughing.

Tom peered from one twin to the other. “You might look alike,” he said, “but there's a different … energy about you. Now that I know there are two of you, I don't think I'd ever mix you up again.”

epilogue

Three years later

“
Mamãe, o que acontece?
” What happens next?

Marcela slipped the bookmark between the pages and placed the book on the bedside table. “You'll find out tomorrow.” She planted a kiss on six-year-old Carlota's forehead and glanced at Mario. The four-year-old had nodded off.

Marcela settled back with her husband, Abilio, to watch
Fate or Coincidence?
, a
documentary series that featured remarkable stories from around the world.

“Tonight,” the host began, “we are delighted to bring you an extraordinary story of identical twins who found each other at the age of fifteen. Of special interest to our viewers in Brazil is the fact that they were born right here in Rio … ”

Suddenly breathless, Marcela leaned forward and watched, enthralled, as two identical girls smiled into the camera. A shiver went through her.

“So, you started your lives in a Brazilian orphanage?” The documentary was filmed in English, with Portuguese
subtitles.

For a moment Marcela was back in that run-down orphanage, arguing with Beatriz. She'd often wondered what had become of the identical twin sisters. She wondered, too, what had happened to the sweet little girl she'd sent to Texas. She'd never spoken of her part in their futures to anyone except Abilio.

“Can you remember it? Can you tell us how you met?”

The girls described their meeting and their decision to swap identities.

“We have some footage of the performance where you danced together,” the interviewer said.

Marcela had never seen anything quite so riveting.

Though both girls were exquisite dancers, only one had become a professional. The other saw her future in books, and had gone to university to major in English.

As Marcela continued to watch the sisters, small differences became apparent. The dancer was the more talkative of the two. The other seemed quieter and more reserved. Between them, they described the way their two families had become one, and the bond that grew stronger and stronger.

Marcela sniffed and blew her nose.

“Marcela, you're crying!” Abilio said. He put a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

“They've found each other,” Marcela said.

“I know,
meu querido
.”

The documentary came to an end and the host was addressing the viewers at home. “We hope you enjoyed that remarkable story. As always, we leave you with just one question:
Fate or Coincidence?
”

Marcela smiled through her tears. Had nobody wondered whether Fate and Coincidence had both been given a helping hand?