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Zara stared at the table, feeling her cheeks redden. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Amina waving and smiling around the class.

“Which is which?” someone whispered.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_15]

“I’m Amina. And we’re not identical, but if you can’t tell, I’ve got a ponytail and Zara has a plait. We always do our hair that way.”

Zara drew her plait over her shoulder, fiddling with the end. It gave her fingers something to do.

“That’s very helpful, Amina. Would you two like to tell us something about yourselves? Only if you want to, of course!”

“We’ve just moved to Stallbridge and our mum’s a doctor at the hospital,” Amina went on. “Oh, and two weeks ago we got a kitten! She’s black and white and her name’s Pixie. Have you still got her photo?” she added to Zara, and Zara pulled it out of her pocket and handed it over. She’d stopped carrying it around once they’d brought Pixie home, but today she’d put it in the pocket of her school skirt, for comfort. Amina held the photo up and Miss Modha leaned over to look.

“So cute! She looks tiny. Lucky you, having a kitten.”

“Does your sister talk?” One of the girls on the other side of their table asked, nodding to Zara. Zara looked down again swiftly, biting her lip.

“Thank you, Amina,” Miss Modha put in quickly. “You’ll all have lots of time to chat to Zara and Amina at break time. For now we need to get on with giving out books. Find a pen, all of you, and I’ve put how I want you to name your books up on the whiteboard.”

Half the morning disappeared in fiddly first-day tasks and the bell for break rang far too soon for Zara.

Several girls gathered around them as Miss Modha shooed them out into the playground, asking questions about their old school and generally being curious.

“I really like your hairband,” one of the girls said to Zara.

“Oh, thanks.” She tried desperately to think of something nice to say back. Mum had said it would be easy – she just had to say the same sort of thing the person talking had said. Mum called it echoing. But the girl smiling at her had short hair, with no clips or bands in it at all. Zara stared at her helplessly and the girl turned to listen to Amina telling a funny story about their old teacher at Springfield Primary who could never remember which of them was which.

“And it’s not like it’s difficult!” she finished off, nodding over at Zara as if to say how different they were. Everyone laughed – because already, after only half a morning, they could see that the twins were nothing like each other at all.

Zara tried to laugh and join in the joke, but it just hurt too much.

“Hey… I loved your kitten.”

Zara jumped and looked round. She’d been trying so hard to be part of the laughing group she hadn’t noticed the girl standing beside her.

“And Pixie’s such a sweet name. Here, do you want to see my cat?” She held up a keyring, the kind you could put a photo inside. It had a very large, very fluffy, very orange cat on it. The cat was lying on its back, showing off a cream and orange stripey tummy. It looked a bit like a rug.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_16]

“He’s gorgeous!” Zara said, before she’d even had time to think. “Um, is he a he? The cat book I got from the library said most ginger cats were.”

“Yup. He’s called Biscuit – like ginger biscuit?”

“That’s clever!” Zara beamed at the other girl and then realized she was actually talking to someone without Amina helping her. She had a split second of panic and then thought that it didn’t matter, because there was something she actually did want to know.

“What’s your name?”

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Pixie wandered from the living room along the hall and into the kitchen– again. She’d been back and forth all morning, trying to work out where Zara and Amina had gone. They’d disappeared before, but never for this long.

“Hey, little one.” Dad came out of the office next to the kitchen and crouched down to tickle her behind the ears. Pixie rubbed herself around his ankles but he wasn’t the one she was looking for. It was the girls she was missing.

“They’ll be back later,” Dad murmured, smiling as Pixie plodded determinedly down the hallway again. This time she stopped and looked up at the stairs. Amina and Zara were up there sometimes and they’d pick her up and take her with them too. Maybe that’s where they were? She put her frontpaws on the bottom step, stretching and trying to peer up at the top of the stairs. She couldn’thear them…

Her sharp ears caught a faint crunching on the gravel outside the front door and she turned to look– and then jumped wildly as the doorbell rang.

“It’s OK, don’t panic. I know, it’s so loud, isn’t it?” Dad said as he hurried to answer the door to the friendly woman who delivered the post. He looked round carefully to make sure he wasn’t accidentally going to let Pixie out, but he couldn’t see her anywhere.