The If Game Read Online Free Page A

hadn’t heard. Either way suited Stephen. He needed to be by himself. They were just at the point where Bridge Street crossed the High Street, so he turned into the High Street instead of continuing directly towards his home street. As he’d hoped, Alex went straight on towards his uncle’s house, without saying another word.
    Stephen went into the nearest newspaper shop and bought himself a magazine. When he thought that he’d given Alex time to get indoors he also went home.
    His dad was sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea and reading the paper. Stephen felt the teapot, found it was still more hot than warm, and poured himself out a mug of only slightly stewed tea. He reached for a biscuit from the red tin which held sweet biscuits—the savoury biscuits were in a round green tin—and waited. He knew by experience that it was no good asking Dad an important question while he was engrossed in the paper. He wouldn’t get a serious answer.
    It seemed that he had waited a long time before Dad began folding the paper in the way that meant he’d read almost all he wanted. Then Stephen began.
    â€˜Dad.’
    â€˜What?’
    He didn’t know how to ask. It would sound so funny. He wished he could find some way of leading into the subject, but he couldn’t think of anything. He said, ‘Dad, was I a twin?’
    â€˜A what?’
    â€˜Was I one of twins when I was born?’
    His dad was scornful. ‘You, a twin? No! Whatever made you think that up?’
    â€˜Someone I was talking to today was talking about doubles. Said lots of people have them.’
    â€˜First I’ve heard of it. There being many of them. Doesn’t seem sense.’
    â€˜But there could be doubles? I mean, there could be someone who looked exactly like me. Somewhere.’
    â€˜Let me know when you see him,’ Dad said, uninterested, and opened his paper again.
    Stephen was relieved to know that he hadn’t got a twin somewhere or other. It would have been an uncomfortable feeling. He considered the idea that Dad hadn’t told him the truth, but he had to dismiss it instantly. Dad was difficult, liked his own way, could be maddeningly silent, wouldn’t argue, never expressed any feelings, but he wasn’t a liar. Then he thought about the old man. He decided that the old man was confused, as old men sometimes are. Probably Stephen looked like a boy he knew, which wasn’t unlikely. Stephen could think of several other boys at his school who weren’t very different to look at. It was quite possible to mistake one for another, especially when they all wore much the same sort of clothes. And probably the old man’s sight wasn’t good. Had he been wearing spectacles? Stephen thought not. He consoled himself by thoughts along these lines. All the same it had been a nasty experience. He hoped he wouldn’t meet that man again.
    â€˜Who was it told you about doubles?’ Dad’s voice interrupted his musings.
    â€˜Alex. The boy next door.’
    â€˜What boy next door?’
    â€˜He doesn’t live there. His mum’s Mr Jenkins’s niece. I was talking to him through the fence one day, and then I met him again this afternoon, in the street.’
    Dad laughed.
    â€˜What are you laughing at, Dad?’
    â€˜Because you’ve got it wrong. It isn’t a boy. It’s a girl.’
    Stephen stared. ‘He can’t be! He doesn’t look like a girl!’ But didn’t he? It was true that Alex’s hair was rather long, but a lot of boys now had quite long hair, and most of the girls he knew wore trousers as often as skirts.
    â€˜So you’ve seen her? As well as spoken through the fence?’ his dad was saying.
    â€˜Saw him this afternoon. Are you sure? I mean ... is he really a girl?’
    â€˜That’s what her mum says, and she ought to know.’
    Stephen didn’t know what he was feeling. Annoyed,