The Identical Boy

by Matthew Stott

  ‘Ally! Come on in, love.’ Sam’s Mum was dressed up, makeup at least an inch thick, enough toxic perfume to stun a charging elephant.

  ‘You’ll have to tell me the name of that perfume,’ said Ally.

  ‘Oh! You like it? The man at the shop did say it was very “in” right now!’ said Sam’s Mum.

  ‘Oh, it’s definitely “in”,’ replied Ally, resisting the urge to follow up with, Hopefully ‘in’ a bin soon. A bin that then gets set on fire and pushed down a well.

  ‘Hello, hello, I thought I heard voices….’ Sam’s Dad made his way down the stairs. Ally did her best not to visibly cringe as his eyes roamed over her, settling at last on her chest.

  ‘Hey, how’s it going,’ she replied.

  ‘Help yourself to a wee drinkie whilst we’re out, if you like. You know the deal. No need to stand on ceremony,’ he said, winking. Ally did her best not to visibly retch.

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’

  ‘Ally likes my perfume. Sidn’t I tell you it was very hip right now?’ said Sam’s Mum, delighted. ‘The boys are through in the front room, pet.’

  ‘The boys?’ asked Ally. Sam had a friend over? ‘Hey, you know it’s extra if I’m having to look after two of them, right?’

  Sam’s parents looked at her quizzically. ‘Extra?’ replied Sam’s Dad.

  ‘Yeah. Two of them. As opposed to one.’

  Sam’s Mum furrowed her brow. ‘It’s the same as always; we go out, so you come over and look after Sam and the other one.’

  ‘What other one?’

  Sam’s parents looked at each other, then looked at Ally.

  ‘Well, the other one. The boy. His friend,’ said Sam’s Mum.

  ‘His best friend,’ said Sam’s Dad.

  ‘That’s him! Go on through, they’re in the front room watching telly. We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.’

  Sam’s parents went through into the kitchen, leaving Ally behind and baffled. What were they trying to pull here? More work for the same money? This wasn’t going to play, not on Ally’s watch.

  Bristling, she pushed open the door to the front room and stepped inside.

  Sam was sat on the floor like usual, cross-legged in front of the telly. Sat next to him was a second boy. A second boy who looked exactly like Sam.

  ‘Sammy boy…?’

  Sam turned, and smiled. ‘Hi Ally! Shall we watch another scary film tonight? I told him all about it. He likes scary films, so don’t worry.’

  The other boy didn’t react to her entrance or their conversation; he kept his eyes on the TV.

  ‘Well, then!’

  Ally jumped at the voice behind her.

  ‘Woah, steady, love, it’s just us!’ said Sam’s Dad, laughing.

  ‘Right then, we’ll be back in three hours or so. Shouldn’t be a late one.’

  ‘Sorry, is this some sort of weird prank, or what?’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘Who is that?’ said Ally.

  ‘Who is who?’ replied Sam’s Mum.

  ‘The little mirror image down there!’ said Ally, jabbing a finger in the boys’ direction. ‘Who is that sat next to Sam?’

  Sam’s parents looked past her and at the two boys, confused, ‘That’s Sam—’ Sam’s Mum began.

  ‘—And that’s the other one,’ finished Sam’s Dad.

  ‘Other one? What “other one”!’

  ‘Well, that other one, down there,’ said Sam’s Mum.

  Ally felt like tearing her hair out. ‘Why does he look like Sam? This is all getting a bit beyond, okay?’

  Sam’s Dad turned to Sam’s Mum and not-so-surreptitiously mimed smoking something other than straight tobacco.

  ‘Hey, King perv, I am not high, okay? Who the hell is that little weirdo and why does he look like Sam?!’

  ‘Right, I’ve had enough of this; you can get out,’ said Sam’s Mum.

  ‘Fine! I’m out of here. This place is turning into a little bit too much of a freak show!’

  Ally stormed out of the room, casting a last glance back at Sam and the boy. Sam was watching her leave, his face worried and confused; the other boy was still calmly sat on the floor. Legs crossed. Eyes on the TV.

  As Ally flung the front door open and almost jumped out of the house, Sam’s Mum poked her head out of the door. ‘And don’t think we’ll be using you again, you druggie weirdo!’

  ‘Suits me! And, by the way, your perfume smells like bog water!’

  Sam’s Mum slammed the door shut as Ally offered her some rather unladylike hand gestures.

  Ally, hands shaking, pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it. That was all too strange. Who was that other boy that looked just like Sam, and why on Earth did Sam’s parents act like this was nothing new?

  That was when she realised just whom it was that had stepped back into the room the previous week.

  Just whose eyes had haunted her ever since.

  ~Chapter Twenty-Six~

  Ally stormed into her kitchen and launched her bag against the far wall, before stomping over to the table and throwing herself down on a chair with a strangled cry of frustration.

  ‘So,’ said Ally’s Mum. ‘All right and well with you, then?’

  Ally rolled her eyes so hard they were in danger of dislocating. ‘Don’t give up the day job, ma.’

  ‘I thought you were on babysitting duty tonight? You didn’t forget, did you, because that boy’s Mum will be on the phone to me and she is a royal pain in the behind.’

  ‘I didn’t forget!’ said Ally, more sharply than she intended.

  ‘All right, moody one, blimey.’ Ally’s Mum paused to let her continue.

  Ally did not continue.

  ‘And…?’

  ‘And … and nothing.’ Ally fidgeted. What was she going to say? That suddenly Sam had a creepy twin brother who never existed before? She knew how 100% insane this all sounded, but it had happened. It was the truth.

  ‘Out with it, then.’

  ‘There’s nothing to “out”! I just quit, alright? I couldn’t stand that perv of a dad anymore. Or the Mum! Have you smelled that bog water she sprays herself with? It’s a freaking health and safety hazard!’

  Her Mum sighed. ‘What did you do, young lady?’

  ‘Oh, it’s always my fault, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re mouth does have a history of getting you fired. Remember that paper round?’

  ‘I was ten!’

  ‘And you called Mr. Baker, that lovely old man from the corner shop, a—and I quote: “fascist, evil, fart-breathed pig-person”.’

  ‘Well, ten-year-old me had a way with words; what can I say?’

  ‘So, why did that dreadful woman fire you tonight?’

  Ally screamed in frustration. The kitchen floor squeaked as Ally turned sharply on her heels and headed for the stairs.

  ~Chapter Twenty-Seven~

  Two days later, Ally was walking and smoking. She looked up and realised she’d wandered near Mark the bully’s house. Mark the ex-bully. Mark the most likely very dead bully. Stood opposite, staring at the place, was Sam. She looked around to see if his creepy twin was in sight, but the street was empty. Flicking her almost dead cigarette into the road, Ally squared her shoulders and went over.

  ‘Oi, Sammy boy, care to share?’

  Sam turned to her, startled, like she’d just snapped him out of a deep sleep.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Wakey-wakey, little man. What’s going on over at your house? Who’s the little creepy mirror image?’

  Sam looked at his shoes and scuffed at an empty crisp bag. ‘That’s my friend. My best friend.’

  ‘Your best friend who looks exactly, and I do mean exactly, like you. Your best friend who, I got the distinct impression, your parents think of as their own child. Your best friend who they seem to think I know all about. That one?’

  Sam said nothing. Ally grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him towards her. ‘Oi, answer me! This is som
e weird malarkey you’ve got going on, and I want to know what the beef is.’

  ‘I don’t know why they think he’s always been there. They weren’t even supposed to know. But … but then I came back home from school one day and he was sat with them in the kitchen. Just talking. I thought I was busted. That I was in trouble.’

  ‘But you weren’t.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘They just acted like everything was normal.’

  ‘Well, who is he? Where did he come from?’

  ‘He’s just my friend. My best friend ever. That’s all and everything I know.’

  Ally raised an unbelieving eyebrow and leaned back against the wall, fishing in her pocket for a fresh smoke. ‘Cost me my babysitting gig, you know.’

  ‘You won’t be coming back? I can ask Mum?’

  Ally struck a match. ‘No thanks. They’d have to pay me a lot more to go back to your house, place got a little over-creepy suddenly.’

  Sam looked sad, turning away to stare at Mark’s house again.

  ‘Why are you always here?’ asked Ally.

  ‘I’m not!’ said Sam. ‘Not always. Hardly ever!’

  ‘It’s the fifth or sixth time I’ve seen you here. You and bully boy weren’t friends. Never were, never was, so what’s with the ghoulish house watch?’

  Sam looked as though he was going to say something, then quickly zipped up his coat and turned to leave. Ally pulled him back by his coat hood.

  ‘Woah, woah, there boy, hold your horses—’

  ‘Let me go!’ Sam struggled, pulling at his coat; Ally yanked it down hard so he fell to the ground. He looked up at her, eyes wounded.

  ‘Sorry. I’m … look, Sam, come on, I’m your friend aren’t I?’

  Sam looked up at her from the ground. It looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

  ‘Sammy boy…?’

  ‘I don’t…. He’s just my best friend. My best friend. My best, best friend.’

  Ally looked over to Mark’s house, then back to Sam as something cold bloomed in her stomach. ‘Do you know something? About Mark? It’s okay, we can go to my Mum. She’ll help; we can just—’

  ‘I don’t know anything, okay!’

  Sam jumped to his feet and ran as fast as his skinny legs would carry him.

  ‘Sam! Sam, I’m sorry, come back!’

  He didn’t slow or look back at her. Ally watched him leave, feeling worried and confused. What was going on? She was still none the wiser about the sudden hey-presto appearance of Sam’s twin, who he claimed was his best friend, but his parents seemed to think was their own flesh and blood, or something. And how was Mark mixed up in it all? Had Sam seen something, or maybe heard something? Was there a connection?

  Jesus, it felt like her brain was full of overactive frogs, jumping this way and that and butting heads.

  She took a draw on her cigarette and looked at Mark’s house. Something was going on. She knew it. Something bad.

  Something really and completely bad.

  ~Chapter Twenty-Eight~

  The next day, Ally decided to do a little investigating. If Sam wasn’t going to let her in on the secret, then Ally guessed it would be up to her to get to the bottom of it all.

  She dressed all in black, shades in place, and crouched behind a hedge a little way down the street from Sam’s house. She watched as his awful Mum and Dad left for their jobs in the morning. Watched as Sam left, on his way to school.

  For a while, she was content to wait and watch the house, earphones clamped to her ears to relieve the hours of boredom. Her eyes scanned from window to window. Upstairs, downstairs. Looking for the merest hint of the home’s newest and strangest inhabitant.

  After three hours without even a twitch of an upstairs curtain, or the opening of the downstairs blinds, Ally decided to get a closer look. She made her way to the back alleyway, then scrabbled over the back garden fence, only slightly grazing a couple of knuckles in the process.

  Swearing under her breath as she sucked the smear of blood from her hand, she crept towards the kitchen window. Peeking through the netting, she discovered the kitchen was empty. Which wasn’t really that amazing a discovery.

  Spying the drainpipe, she spat on both palms and rubbed them together. ‘Here we go…’

  Slowly but surely, Ally managed to shimmy up the drainpipe. Putting her life (or at least her ankles’ current unbroken nature) on the line, she stretched away from the drainpipe to steal a look through one of the upstairs windows.

  Nothing.

  Almost slipping twice, Ally made her way back to the ground. She kicked an old plant pot containing a long-dead bit of vegetation over, then climbed back over the back wall.

  So far on her first day as a super spy, Ally had learned precisely zilch about the weirdness around Sam. Well, this wouldn’t do. No more pussyfooting around. Time to take the bull by the horns.

  Ally marched round to the front door and rang the bell, long and hard, so it blared annoyingly sharply inside. She waited for twenty seconds, then repeated the bell prodding, this time followed by repeated bashing of the metal doorknocker as a noisy chaser.

  Still nothing.

  Ally fished a hand into her pocket and retrieved her ring of keys. One of the keys opened the front door to Sam’s house. She’d been entrusted with the key as a precaution whilst Sam’s babysitter of choice. She might have walked out on that post (or been fired, depending on whom you asked) but she still had possession of the key.

  Now, either Sam’s double was in there ignoring the front door, in which case she could corner him alone and force some answers out of the skinny twerp, or she’d find herself in an empty house. In which case she’d rifle through the place, looking for clues. She wouldn’t have to hurry; it was still hours before anyone would return.

  An illicit thrill zipping through her, Ally grinned and slid the key into the lock. She twisted the key and pushed the door open.

  ‘Hello, hello? You in here, creepy boy who looks a freaky lot like my little buddy?’

  Ally closed the door behind her and pocketed her keys. The inside of the house felt very still and silent, as though movement and noise was neither expected nor wanted at this point in its day.

  ‘Hey, hey, hey! It’s just me, your sassy neighbourhood babysitter! Well, former babysitter.’ Ally’s words seemed to echo off the walls. ‘Come out, come out if you’re lurking! I promise I won’t do too many dreadful things to your skinny little body!’

  Nothing. No reply, no sound of anyone moving to meet her or to hide.

  Ally sighed, a little disappointed. She’d really hoped the weirdo would be in; that way she could get to the bottom of all this in double-quick time. Now, chances were she’d find little to help her.

  She made her way into the living room. Everything looked the same: the couch with its sagging and crushed cushions, the giant TV, the God-awful smell of that woman’s toilet water of a perfume.

  Ally coughed. ‘Yuck…’ Even the ghost of it clawed at her eyes and throat.

  She turned to leave the room, then stopped as something caught her eye. It was a picture in a frame, perched on the mantelpiece. There was Sam, and there were his parents behind him. And then, stood next to Sam, was a second boy. An identical boy.

  ‘What the what….’ Ally picked the picture up and stared at it. This was too weird. She’d seen this picture countless times. It was Sam and his parents on holiday in Devon. Stood on the beach together. The other boy had never been in it before, and now? Now, there he was. Like he’d always been there.

  Ally shivered and put the picture back on the mantle.

  The staircase creaked under her feet as she took each step. It was weird how loud and unsettling any normal sound seemed when you were alone in the very quiet and your heart was beating a little too fast.

  Sam’s room was at the end of the corridor, the door closed. Ally suddenly felt as though she should turn around and leave the house. Forget about all this. Whatever it was, it was way
too weird—weirder than that even. Maybe it was best left alone.

  There was a noise from Sam’s room.

  Ally held her breath.

  A bedspring creaking? As though someone on the bed had shifted their position?

  ‘Hey, freaky boy, you in there?’

  Silence. Ally began to move towards the door.

  ‘You know if you’re trying to scare me … well … you’re doing an okay job, I’ve gotta admit. So congratulations. But I know something you don’t. I know you’ve got arms like pipe cleaners, and if you carry on playing daft I’ll have to snap them in bits, alright?’

  There was no further noise, and no reply.

  ‘Right, you asked for it.’ Ally gripped the handle and threw the door open, leaping through, fists aloft. ‘Hi-ya!’

  Ally looked around the little room, holding her kung-fu stance. It was empty.

  Lowering her fists, she got on her knees and looked under the bed, then in the wardrobe, and finally the trunk at the bottom of the bed. No little Sam mirror-image lurking.

  ‘Ally, girl, your mind is playing mean tricks on you,’ she said.

  Ally shook her head, green hair swinging, and decided that the search was a bust; she wasn’t going to discover anything. She’d just have to wait until the little weirdo went outside with Sam and corner the pair of them. A little old fashioned bullying would get the truth out of the little squirt.

  She stepped out of Sam’s room and into the corridor. As she moved towards the stairs, something she saw made her stop. There was a new door. She was quite sure it hadn’t been there before. The upstairs of Sam’s house had three rooms: Sam’s room, his parents’ room, and the bathroom. One, two, three. So why was there now a fourth door between the bathroom and Sam’s parents’ room?

  The door didn’t look like the others. It wasn’t painted, just bare wood, an ornate brass handle at the centre.

  ‘Okay, Ally, how about you don’t let your curiosity get the better of you for once and we high tail it out of here…? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Damn.’