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still stung when she noticed Cassie hanging back from her in the shops, walking a couple of paces behind as they shopped for groceries or new school shoes, as if embarrassed to be seen with her. Dora, on the other hand, was still a little girl, happy to hold hands and cuddle at the drop of a hat.
    She supposed, when she really thought about it, the two girls had always been opposites, right from the start, and not just physically, although that was perhaps where the most obvious differences lay. Cassie’s fair hair, pale skin and ice-blue eyes resembled Richard’s side of the family. Dora was all Helen; she had her mother’s dark hair, olive skin and green seaweed eyes. Richard called her his little gypsy girl.
    Cassie had burst into the world with a symphony of noise, opening her lungs with their full force and carrying on that way for quite some time. She had been a difficult baby, hard to read and always fighting sleep. Helen had worried herself silly over reflux and routines, until gradually Cassie had transformed into a bolshie little toddler and then into a tempestuous young girl. Now they were nearing puberty and Helen could see that they would soon face a whole new raft of challenges. Helen loved Cassie’s fiery spirit, but it ran her ragged at times.
    Dora’s birth, though, was in stark contrast to Cassie’s – she had slipped into the world quickly and quietly – so quietly Helen had been terrified there was something wrong, until the midwife gave the baby a firm slap on the bottom and Dora had opened her little mouth to let out a gentle mewl of protest. And unlike Cassie, from the very first moment they had brought her home Dora had just fitted in. She was happy to sit in a baby bouncer and suck on her fist, her green eyes following her mother peacefully around the room until Helen remembered to change her nappy or give her a feed.
    Cassie was the one who had lain on the supermarket floor and kicked and screamed until she got the breakfast cereal she wanted; Dora was happy so long as she had the same as her sister. Cassie was the one who pulled all the clothes out of the dressing-up box and tried them on one after the other until the room was a bombsite; Dora was the one who would pick them all up and place them neatly back so her sister didn’t get into trouble. Cassie was the one who snooped and peeked at Christmas presents; Dora would wait patiently for the Big Day, worried about spoiling the surprise. Cassie was the one who would dive straight into the deep end of the pool; while Dora would dip a tentative toe before sliding in carefully off the side. It puzzled Helen that she could have given birth to two such different and fascinating creatures, but if she knew one thing, it was that their differences were only getting more marked the older they got.
    As Helen sat and studied her girls she noticed for the first time the brilliant colour of Cassie’s painted fingernails – they were the exact same letterbox red as the expensive nail varnish Helen had treated herself to at the Chanel beauty counter last week. Cassie, noticing her mother’s stare, glanced down at her fingers before looking up and smiling innocently back at her. Helen swallowed down her anger. She’d have a word later, in private. Yes, Cassie was certainly entering a difficult phase.
    ‘How are you girls getting on at school?’ Alfred asked, breaking the silence. ‘Your father told me you did well in your Eleven Plus, Cassie?’
    Cassie nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
    ‘She did really well,’ said Helen. ‘The teachers think Cassie’s got a very bright future ahead of her, if she applies herself.’
    Cassie dropped her head, seemingly embarrassed.
    ‘And Panda Bear is doing well at school too, aren’t you?’ added Richard. ‘She came third in a spelling test last week.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Dora. ‘I had to spell P. H. I. L. O. S. O. P. H. Y. Philosophy.’ She spelt the word out slowly. ‘I got a red star.’
    ‘Well