Gemini

Every day on the way to school we see The Funny Twins. Two men in their fifties, walking to work. They are identical - and I mean identical. They wear the same clothes, carry the same bag. They walk in step, and have the same pursed, purposeful expression as they stride out. We gauge how early or late we are by the point at which we pass them: "Oh no! The Funny Twins are at the roundabout - we're going to miss the start of assembly".

We are fascinated by these Funny Twins, and in fact now by identical twins in a more general way. Our au pair is one-of-a-pair, and there is a set at school. Not to mention the Funny Lady Twins With The Big Hair, often to be seen in our favourite coffee shop of a Saturday morning. Guess who we think they should be hooking up with?!

We wonder about twins. If one gets a freckle, does the other one? If one has a headache, does the other one? Do they dream the same dreams? If they both eat the same dinner, would they both fart at the same time? And then do the same poo? (I don't wonder so much about that myself, I'm just reporting...) Would they both get cancer?

We worry a lot about the Funny Twins getting older. What would happen if one of them was killed in a freak accident, space-junk falling from the sky or suchlike, and the other one was left alone? Sometimes we don't see them, and we have to remind ourselves that they might have taken a day off, or gone on a course, or booked fillings at the dentist, identical fillings in the same tooth, caused by eating the identical number of toffees, chewed on the same side.

After half term we are going to start waving to them - to see if they wave back at the same time, in the same way. Everyone knows who they are, but the Funny Twins don't seem to have a lot of friends.