To Love a Twin

Chapter 8: Shopping Trips

Kira was running madly through the woods outside Ottery St. Catchpole, thick white fog clouding her way. She was calling for Fred. He was there, just ahead. She could just see him in the mist, but he kept moving away from her. Finally, she saw him stop, he stood still, his back to her. She ran to him, relieved, but when he turned, it was her father. He raised his meaty fist to strike her and she ran, back the way she came, not looking back to see if he gave chase, but knowing he did.

Fred stepped out from behind a thick tree in front of her and she ran right into him. His arms went around her, holding her close. Clinging to him, she closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. When she opened them again, she was lying on the forest floor, Fred was kissing her, hungrily, greedily.

"Please, Kira, I need you," he said, his one hand was buried in her hair at the back of her head, the other moving ever downward, grasping her skirt, slowly pulling it up, his fingers lightly trailing on her thighs.

She so wanted to please him, make him happy. She didn't have to say anything. Fred saw her acquiescence in her eyes. Triumph lit his eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers. The taste of him was heavenly. She was suffused with the glorious feeling that she was where she belonged, that she was safe. When he broke the kiss she opened her eyes. But it was George staring down at her, his hands upon her body.

Kira sat bolt upright in bed, screaming his name.

A few seconds later, George came bursting into the room, wand in hand. "What?" he said. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, God," she said. "I'm sorry. I had...I had a nightmare."

George lowered his wand and sat on the bed in relief. "It must've been terrifying. You screamed my name like someone was killing you."

"Sorry," she said again.

He looked at her worriedly. "Why don't you tell me about it? Sometimes it helps."

Right, Kira thought, like she could tell him this one. "It...it was about my father. He was chasing me to beat me."

"I'm sorry," said George. He reached out and smoothed her hair, slipping his hand around the back of her neck. "Are you all right? You feel terribly warm."

Her senses were heightened by the dream. The touch of his hand on her skin felt so good, she wanted... She half turned her face toward his arm to run her lips along it, to taste him, but she stopped herself just in time, horrified.

She jumped out of bed. "I need a glass of water," she said. At the moment, she couldn't even look at him. The memory of the dream, Fred's lips on hers, his hands...was it Fred's? Or was it George's? At the moment, it didn't matter. She knew what it was to be loved and, as she had sat on the bed, with George so close, touching her, his voice, his scent...young, male...she had wanted him.

She ran to the kitchen and filled one of the mugs with water and drank deeply. She set the mug down with a clink and raked her fingers through her hair.

She looked at her reflection in the tiny window over the sink. What kind of person was she? She loved Fred; she was having his baby. How could she even think of anyone else in that way? Was she no better than that disgusting Amanda Blake back in high school? The girl everyone had called the class slut? She turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on her face. She sensed him behind her, in the doorway, watching her.

"I feel better now," she said, not letting her eyes meet his. "I'll just go back to bed. I'm really sorry for waking you."

"Sure you're all right, then?" he asked, trying to keep his eyes on her face so she would not catch him staring at her thin pajama top, which was nearly transparent in spots where it had gotten wet.

She planted a bright, fake smile on her face. "Oh yes, just fine. I'm perfectly spiffy," she said as she passed him in the doorway, keeping as much distance between them as possible. "Absolutely spiffy." She turned and ran back to her bedroom, slamming the door and jumping back into the bed, hugging her pillow to her.

George watched her run down the hall as if a troll were after her. "Spiffy?" he said to himself, "Spiffy?" He shook his head. "Absolutely mad. Must be a Muggle thing. Or a girl thing. Or it could even be a pregnant thing." Then he went back into his own room and fell back to sleep.

After a few minutes, Kira got up and retrieved Fred's jumper from the drawer. She put the pillow back where it belonged and lay back down, hugging the jumper close, willing herself not to think of George.

* * * * *

Buford Benning opened the back door where the deliveries came in. The truck usually delivered between five and five-thirty. His head ached. He couldn't even remember coming home from the pub last night. He was pissed off at having to be up so early. Usually, Kira met the delivery each week, but now he had to do it himself. He couldn't expect his useless wife to do it. She didn't know the difference between a pork chop and a rump roast. The delivery guy would cheat him if she met the truck.

Once more, he cursed the little tramp for making him throw her out. He hated having his wife work the counter. He worried that Madelaine would start talking to people, would make friends. He didn't want her having anyone to turn to. He wanted her to know she was alone. It kept her in line.

Buford heard the truck pull into the back. He went back and watched the driver unload his order, counting the boxes of hams, weighing the sides of beef he'd soon be cutting into steaks and grinding to make into beef patties. As soon as the driver left, Buford got to work. He had to do this all alone now too. He had turned Kira into a damned good butcher. She was a good cook too. Not like her useless mother. Madelaine screwed up boiling water.

At seven sharp, he unlocked the front door and turned the sign over so the side that read 'open' faced the street. He was in the large, walk-in freezer when he heard the bell on the door tinkle and an odd clicking sound. He came back out to the counter and saw it was the town's librarian.

"Morning," he said. "You're about awful early. How can I help you today?"

"Well, I'd like to know if you might have a nice pork chop. I only need one. I live alone, you understand," said Nathan.

"Do you want it cut from the rib or the loin?"

"Umm...I really don't know."

"How 'r you planning on cooking it? Are you gonna bake it or fry it?"

"Um...fry it," he answered.

"Best make it from the rib. I'll cut it an inch thick then. Any thinner and it'd dry out."

As the butcher began to cut the chop, Nathan said, "How is your daughter? She hasn't been in the library for over a week now."

"I don't give a rat's ass how she is," Buford growled. "Threw her the hell out. The little tramp went and got herself knocked up. I deposited her on the doorstep of the boy who done it, that weird family who lives in that ramshackle dump just outside of town. Unless they threw her out, she's probably still there."

"You...you threw her out?"

Buford wrapped the man's pork chop in white paper, securing it with a piece of masking tape. "That'll be 93p."

Nathan paid the man, discomfited to find that she was no longer living here. He knew of the family. He'd seen them come into town from time to time. They never used the library. The only time one had was two winters ago, when that boy had come into the library with Kira and they'd sat, heads together, reading a book. Nathan had thrown them out. There was no way he could get all the way out to their house to see if she was still there. What excuse could he use to go there?

Luck must have been smiling on him. As Nathan made his way up the street to the library, he saw a woman and a teenage girl coming toward him. They each carried a basket on their arms.

"Now, Ginny, dear," the woman said, "we need to buy some things for George and Kira. You know how he is. I'm sure he doesn't have a thing in that flat for them to eat. We'll take a nice basket of fresh things from my garden with us when we visit tomorrow. Make sure to remind me to take some jars of my homemade jams and sauces."

Nathan thanked God. Surely this was a sign that Kira was meant to belong to him. As they came near, Nathan smiled. "Good morning, ladies. Always good to get the shopping out of the way early, isn't it? What a glorious day this looks to be."

Mrs. Weasley stopped and looked at the Muggle man, taking in his crutches. She immediately felt sympathy for him. So many Muggles in the town gave them the cut. It was refreshing to have one be so friendly. "Good morning, sir," she said. "Yes, it is a lovely day."

"My name is Nathan Lockslip," he said, holding out his hand. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the town's librarian. I don't believe I've ever seen you in the library. We have a wonderful collection. I do hope you will consider making use of it, you and your family."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "How kind. I have heard of you. My new daughter-in-law told my husband about the library and mentioned you. He has been thinking of stopping in."

"I'd love to see him. Did I hear you mention Kira?" he asked. "Such a nice girl. She loves to read, you know."

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Kira and my son were married yesterday. They're living in London."

"London? Well, please, when you see her, offer her my congratulations," said Nathan pleasantly.

They parted, with Nathan going on to the library and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny walking toward the Wizard market in the center of town.

"Well, Ginny, that Muggle seems such a nice fellow, doesn't he?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny turned her head and looked at the man's retreating back as he moved speedily down the sidewalk on his crutches. "He seems kind of creepy to me," she said.

Nathan let himself into the library. He navigated the stairs to the main floor and paced back and forth, agitated. London. How would he ever find her now? She had to return to Ottery St. Catchpole. He had to make her return. She had to come back so he could give her shelter.

He looked up the street at the butcher shop and saw Kira's father give his wife a shove out the door. A few seconds later, a broom came flying out. The woman slowly stooped to pick it up and began sweeping the walk. Nathan smiled as a plan began to form in his mind.

* * * * *

Kira and George stood in the kitchen section of the department store. For what seemed the millionth time that morning, Kira held up two plates, both white, and asked which style he preferred.

"Um...the one on the right?" he said, more as a question than a statement. The two plates looked exactly the same to him.

They had already filled the basket with an assortment of odd things Kira deemed essential. Some looked like they may be dangerous. There was a set of white earthenware canisters with the words, Flour, Sugar, Coffee, and Tea written on them, a matching receptacle for the large, bright red cooking spoons, egg turners, and something she called spatulas. There were mixing bowls so she could mix something, chopping boards, a set of pots and pans, enough silverware to serve eight, and enough cleaning supplies to kill a troll. The scary looking things turned out to be an egg slicer, cheese grater, a garlic press, and a meat tenderizer.

She seemed to think it necessary to have enough to serve eight. He had gently reminded her that they had only two chairs, but she had ignored him. She carefully put the carton of dishes he had selected into the cart. He hoped she'd say they were done, but she snapped her fingers and said, "On to the glassware aisle."

George had never known that one needed different glasses for juice and water and iced tea. She was thrilled to find some that were clear with a thin red line around the rim. Eight of each joined the rest in the cart. Then it was on to cutlery. Kira spent a lot of time here, carefully inspecting each and every knife. "Let's see, I'll need a butcher knife, a chef's knife, a fillet knife, a paring knife, and steak knives," she said.

Eight steak knives, right?" George asked.

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile. "Of course," she said, pleased that he was finally catching on. "Now, on to the linens," she added, turning the cart and marching off. George followed behind her, amusing himself by watching her cute bum as it swayed in the pretty flowered sundress she wore. It was rather short and George had caught more than one other fellow's eyes on her as well. He'd given them glaring, dirty looks.

Finally, she had selected an assortment of kitchen towels (red and white checks), bath towels (white and gray), new sheets (something called sage green), and blankets (again, sage green) and they headed toward the checkouts. Once outside, they steered the cart toward the rear of the store, where they had parked the motorbike. Kira sat on the motorbike and watched, amazed, as he Disapparated with their purchases, over and over, until he had taken every last bag of stuff to the flat.

They drove back to Charing Cross Road where they found a little Muggle restaurant and had lunch. Then, it was off to the market to buy food. Once more, Kira loaded the cart with boxes, jars, and tins of things that looked alien to George.

She stopped to look at the meat, but shook her head. "This meat is really poor quality," she said. "I have to find a real butcher shop." I was thinking of having beef roast for your family tomorrow. We can have mashed potatoes and broccoli. Does your family like broccoli? I'll wait and buy the roast tomorrow morning though. I don't trust that old icebox. It looks too dodgy to me. But I can buy the potatoes and the broccoli. Oh, I forgot. Your mother wanted some instant potatoes. She turned the cart around and headed back to that aisle.

After checking out, George Disapparated with the groceries to the flat once more. He was getting exhausted. When he Apparated in the alley near the Leaky Cauldron where he had left Kira and the motorbike, she was gone. He stepped out to see her up the street a bit, looking in a shop window.

It was a sewing shop. He couldn't take anymore. He said he'd wait outside. She went in and he watched as she filled a small hand basket with spools of thread, packs of needles, a pair of scissors and other supplies. He saw her speaking with the older lady in the shop at some length. Then, she selected lengths of several different materials . When she came outside, she was happier than he'd ever seen her.

"George," she said, "you won't believe what just happened!"

"You've just bought the last thing, anywhere, and there's nothing left for anyone else?" he asked, more than half seriously.

She giggled and wrinkled her nose at him. "No, silly," she said, "the lady who runs this store, her name is Yvonne, we got to talking about my projects and she offered me a job in her shop. It would only be in the afternoons a few days a week, but she wants me to actually do my projects here, in the store, as a sort of live demonstration of how to do them for the people who come in and don't know how to sew. She has sewing machines in there, and I'll be able to use them, for free, and earn some money besides. And anything I make I can keep. I'll be able to make myself some maternity clothes. Isn't that great?"

"My store makes enough money that you don't have to work," he said. "I can afford to buy you clothes."

"But it's so much more fun to make them," she said. "Come on George, don't be stuffy. You're going to be down in your store every day. I might as well come here and do this. She wants me to start Monday at noon until four. Please. I really want to do this. It isn't even about the money. It's about having the chance to do something, to meet people, to be free to do as I please for the first time in my life."

"All right, if you really want--"

He was cut off by Kira throwing herself at him and kissing him, on the mouth. It seemed to take her as much by surprise as it did him. Her face turned red as she stepped away from him. They walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron side by side, not talking. He stopped and she kept walking. He'd forgotten that she couldn't see it on her own.

"Kira," he said, "this is it. Let me see your ring a minute."

Kira looked at her grandmother's wedding ring and slid it off her finger, handing it to him. He quickly looked around and pulled out his wand. He touched it to the ring and it glowed orange a second. Then, he slipped it back on her finger. She looked at the Leaky Cauldron, surprise showing in her face.

"I put a spell on your ring so that you will be able to see the portals to the magical world, and pass through the barriers. The spells we place to hide our world from Muggles will not have any affect on you so long as you're wearing your ring."

Kira reached out and grasped the handle of the door. Grinning, she bowed and ushered him inside.