Monday 13th October 1986

Bastet dormitory, Headfort School, Kells, Ireland

"...Ow! Why does this have to hurt so much?!"

Roshni was spending yet another morning in front of the mirror above one of the sinks in her dormitory's communal bath and shower room, trying to drag her Denman brush through her tangled black curls on the back of her head before she could plait them. But to no avail, for each time the bristles tugged on a knot and yanked her scalp she winced with pain and increasing frustration.

As if the timing wasn't already bad enough, Matron called from outside the door, "Hurry up, girls! You have to be in the canteen for breakfast in one minute!"

Roshni slammed her brush back down onto the bathroom counter in defeat, for hair was not worth getting into trouble for lateness, and started ripping tangles apart before tying them up with her yellow scrunchie on her wrist.

"Fix your tie, Ms Bulsara" the matron remarked on the girl's uniform as she went out the door.

"Yes, matron" Roshni quietly obeyed, tucking it back underneath the stiff collar of her white shirt under her grey jumper and doing up her top button properly.

"If only mum was here to get rid of that 'bird's nest' stuck on my head... At least Johnny's hair is straight," She self-pitied, trudging down the staircase with her classmates, "Everything is easier when you're a boy... "

Life in boarding school was nothing like the life that Roshni had known before back home in London. A lot of the staff had a welcoming warmth of their own, but it wasn't the same warmth that her mother or Phoebe had. And none of them were to help teach her how to do the things that she suddenly had to learn how to do on her own, such as getting ready for the day (brushing her hair being the primary struggle) and putting on her own school uniform. Regardless this was the independence and self-discipline that Freddie had spoken highly of, and something that he hoped that she and her brother would come to appreciate when they would grow older as well.

When Roshni reached the top of the line to the dinner hatch in the school canteen downstairs, Ms O'Malley the school cook presented her a pre-prepared tray of a tomato and mushroom omelette and porridge, the girl's vegetarian alternative to bacon and fried eggs.

"There you are, pet. Eat it while it's still warm" the woman told her, peeling the cling film back from it before handing it over to her carefully.

"Thank you" Roshni politely took it from her carefully and stepped away from the dinner hatch, looking across the canteen and deciding where to sit. 

As she made her mind up she saw one of the other members of her Maths and Games club, Oshiro Toshiyuki, sitting on the empty end of one of the tables with just a book written in his native language of Japanese in front of him. 

"I don't know him very well... but at least he isn't mean and unfriendly like the rest of the boys in Maths and Games club." she thought. 

After all, Ohirio's english was moderate and therefore he was normally quiet in class. Therefore he and Roshni were often the last two sitting alone in the classroom, being the only girl there, none of the boys wanted her to join their group. And there  Miss Singh would end up grouping them together.

At that moment Roshni remembered something from last week:

"Miss Signh is hosting the school tournament for the 24 Game on friday..."

She remembered her teacher showing the game to them in last week's club meeting, and the order in which it was played. The player is given a card at random containing four different numbers ranging from one to nine. The rule of the game is that these four numbers could be added, subtracted, multiplied or divided with each other in order to reach the final value of 24.

"A simple, but fun challenge really," Roshni thought, then a lightbulb illuminated her mind, "Maybe I can ask Oshiro to be my teammate for it!  We always get put into groups anyway"

As she made her way towards Oshiro's bench, her twin brother Johnny Bulsara was standing in the queue to the dinner hatch, keenly looking across the canteen at the pinned-up poster advertising auditions for the school production of Peter Pan on the noticeboard. On it, its slogan read: 

"Have you got enough faith, trust and pixie dust? If you do, come to Mr and Mrs Joyce's classroom on Friday at 1:30pm! Sign-up sheet for auditions will be posted on Wednesday" 

Already, Johnny was convinced, pondering, "Maybe I could go in for it... " 

"Hey, you're holding up the queue!" the girl standing behind him complained.

Johnny absentmindedly stepped forward, and then it occurred to him that perhaps he ought to read the J.M Barrie novel in which the play was to be adapted from first.

He saw his sister walking across the room, whom often came prepared, about to sit down next to Oshiro.

"Roshni... Roshni!!" Johnny hissed loudly enough so she would be able to hear him.

His twin sister turned around sharply in irritation.

Roshni marched over to him, breakfast tray still in hand, "What now?!

"Have you read Peter Pan?" he asked her.

"Of course!" The little girl anxiously looked over her shoulder to see if Oshiro was still sitting there, "...Why do you ask?"

"I need to know what happens in it for this!" Johnny pointed at the sign-up sheet.

Roshni leaned in closer to read it, "The Peter Pan play?"

"I have to be there, auditions are on friday!"

Meanwhile Johnny was thinking about a much deeper motive, "Then maybe dad will come over and visit us... and just for once he will think I am worth something as well"

"I have far more important things to do on friday than you do, just go to the library and find a copy for yourself" Roshni scoffed, growing impatient.

Johnny rolled his eyes, and thought aloud quietly, "You're so mean and selfish sometimes... just like dad!"

Roshni did her best to ignore him as she turned back around, although her fingers clenched the tray in her hands with growing rage.

And what was more was that Oshiro was no longer sitting on the bench where he was before.

She spun back around to face her brother in outrage, "Now look what you did!"

Johnny shouted in outrage, "Did what?! I didn't do anything!"

"You made me miss an opportunity!"

"Oh sorry!" he sarcastically jibed, "I didn't realise that the japanese kid from maths class was was your boyfriend"

Roshni dropped her tray with a fierce clatter on the floor as she lunged at him, "YOU'LL BE LUCKY IF YOU EVEN GET TO PLAY A TREE!!"

"AHH, GERROFF ME!!" Johnny yelled as she slammed him against the wall by the collar of his uniform.

He dragged his sister to the floorboards, and soon enough the whole canteen had their eyes on the twins fighting in the centre of the room.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" their classmates chanted as they formed a circle around them.

"OWW!!" Johnny noised as his sister started thumping him with her balled fists, straddling him so that he couldn't get away.

"STOP IT NOW, MS BULSARA!!!" Miss O'Malley yelled over the chants from the dinner hatch in an attempt to control them both, "THAT IS GODLESS AND UNLADYLIKE!"

Roshni screamed in pain as her brother grabbed clumpfulls of her tangled curls in retaliation, and yanked her to the floor by her hair.

But they were both so enraged and trying to kill each other that they barely even noticed the whole room had gone silent.

It wasn't until a shadow had descended over the both of them writhing and feebly wrestling on the floor that they stopped and slowly looked up:

"I expected better from the both of you, Mr and Miss Bulsara" the once kind and stoical Mr Toole stood over them with his arms folded as he sternly stared them down, his voice being the only one aloud in the deadly silence.

Johnny and Roshni quickly climbed back onto their feet, brushing off the dust and eggy bits of Roshni's omelette breakfast that had ended up on their uniform.

Mr Toole gestured to the double doors behind him, and firmly instructed, "My office, now."

Their classmates dispersed and started queuing up again, their eyes still on them both as a chattering buzz could be heard in the air. Meanwhile Johnny and Roshni glared at each other once more before they did the walk of shame out of the canteen, unsure of what was awaiting them...

Garden Lodge, half an hour later

"Some welcome home to England that turned out to be!" Freddie Mercury muttered, sitting at his dinner table in his kimono as he took a deep drag of his cigarette.

There it sat in front, the recollection of what had happened only 24 hours before:

"Just what my personal life needs, another fucking spanner in the works!" he erratically waved the cigarette around in his hand as he stood up off the bench.

Phoebe watched his boss storm past him and into the piano room as he filled the cat's bowls with their breakfast, his strong square jaw clenched tightly and wearing the frown that he wore on the front page.

He waited and listened for the sound of Freddie furiously playing his own rendition of Vivaldi's storm from the piano room as it filled the Garden Lodge household, a fitting piece of music for the tone of impending trouble cast upon them.

"Those scummy reporters and photographers..." he thought with contempt as he recalled what had happened yesterday when he and Freddie had arrived at Heathrow Airport after spending a wonderful few weeks in Japan, "and the likes of Rupert Murdoch profiting off of other people's misfortunes! Haven't people got nothing better to do with their lives?"

Himself and Freddie had made the decision not to tell Monica about what had happened the day before. Thankfully, she had left early in the morning to go to the university library before Mary Austin stopped by to literally deliver the news on behalf of Jim Beach about what the papers had been saying, so long as she didn't pass any news agents or kiosks and see the front pages there. And there was no way that Johnny and Roshni were going to find out anytime soon either, for they were in a different country and secluded in the countryside.

But eventually Monica was going to have to find out, as well as the twins, even if there was no easy explanation-

Beep, beep... beep, beep...

The telephone rang over Freddie's crashing piano notes as he continued to play his piece.

"Oh, for fuck's sake... what now?!" Phoebe dreaded.

He cautiously lifted the receiver and answered, "Hello, Peter Freestone speaking. M-May I ask who is calling?"

"Good morning Mr Freestone, this is headmaster Dermot Toole from Headfort School," the male voice matter-of-factly explained, "Johnny and Roshni have both gotten into a spot of bother this morning. Can I possibly speak to a parent or guardian?"

"What sort of bother? Are they hurt?!" Phoebe muttered in panic, covering his mouth so that Freddie couldn't hear.

"They are both perfectly safe and well, Mr Freestone," Mr Toole assured him firmly on the other end, "I'm referring to their behaviour, for I am afraid that they both got into a scuffle with each other in the school canteen at breakfast."

"Why do all twins have to be this way at the worst of times?!"

"Can we-I-I possibly phone you back?" Phoebe awkwardly asked, gritting his teeth with growing irritation.

"But Mr Freestone, with the best interests of Johnny and Roshni we need to speak to a parent or guardian before we can send them back to class so that they understand the severity of their actions" Mr Toole reasoned.

Phoebe peered into the piano room to see his boss still sitting at his grand Bechstein, his fingers frantically dancing across the ebony and ivory keys. There were dark circles still visible underneath Freddie's bloodshot brown eyes from both a lack of sleep and jet lag. He was awake most of the night having been tormented with the confronting possibility of having HIV, as well as keeping yesterday's events at Heathrow a secret from Monica.

Wisely, Phoebe concluded, "He's definitely not in the mood for this... but then again when is he ever ready to fulfil his parental duties and settle a dispute between his own two children"

In a moment of desperation, he involuntarily suggested, "How about I give you their mother's number?"

"Well, as a matter of fact I do already have Ms Brannigan's mobile telephone written down here as a secondary contact," Mr Toole answered hesitantly, "Is she available to have a private word?"

"Probably not..." Phoebe looked at the clock which read 9:55 on the wall, remembering that Monica classes started at ten on a monday, "But if you're quick you might be able to catch her in time"

"Alright Mr Freestone, I appreciate your help," Mr Toole sighed slightly on the other end, "Good day to you"

"And to you too" Phoebe flimsy set the phone back on its cradle, thinking regretfully, "I'm so sorry Monica. They're your problem now..."

He was under such stress that he barely noticed there was no longer the sound of a piano playing:

"Who was that?" Freddie peered in.

"Oh nobody," Phoebe fumbled, a little startled, "Just... uhm"

"It better not be another one of those c*nts from the press trying to tap our phone!!" Freddie muttered and marched back into the kitchen, growing understandably paranoid.

"It was not the press!"

But Freddie had snatched the phone out of Phoebe's hand and started to dial the recall code...

The Royal Polytechnic institution, Regent Street, London

"We're going to grab something to eat and drink before the film. Would you like to come with us?" Florence turned from her group of classmates to ask her other classmate Monica, who was walking down the corridor behind her slightly.

Today's film, Georges Méliès' A Trip to the Moon, was being screened in a few minutes. But the fortunate thing about Regent Street was that shops, cafes and restaurants were within walking distance from the university.

"I might go back to the library and do the assigned readings instead..." Monica awkwardly answered her, and added, "Anyway, I find a lot of these silent films we've been watching too hard to focus on sometimes"

Truth be told, today she was feeling too tired to watch a film; Freddie kept tossing and turning the night before for reasons she couldn't understand, especially when he was jet-lagged and rather unsettled since he came home. Besides, if she did her homework now then the more free time she would have to spend with him later on.

"You don't find silent films entertaining?! What about Charlie Chaplin... or DW Griffiths?" Florence listed.

"DW Griffiths was a racist, and Charlie Chaplin had too many child brides, I don't blame anyone who doesn't want to watch them" the same young man with blonde hair and glasses from Day 1 of university reappeared behind them and interrupted before Monica could even answer her.

"There he goes again... so much for appreciating 'art' when he struggles to separate art from the artist" she sighed internally, "Then again I live with Freddie Mercury, who am I to talk?"

"Got any dirt on Buster Keaton then?" Someone from the group asked him.

As Monica and Florence discreetly rolled their eyes at one another, her Motorola rang inside her pea-green coat pocket.

"That's strange, nobody ever rings me when I'm at university..." she thought, even though she carried her phone around as a precautionary measure, "Must be something bad."

The others stopped walking and looked at her as it continued to ring and whispering amongst themselves, for mobile phones were still expensive in 1986:

"How did she get her hands on one of those?!"

"Can she afford to pay rent?"

"Is she rich?!"

"Guys, it's just a perk that she got with her old job!" Florence said to them discreetly.

"And what was that? An oil tycoon's PA?" another suggested jokingly as Monica grabbed it from her pocket and finally answered, "Hello?"

"Ah, Ms Brannigan! Caught you just in time!" the familiar male voice spoke on the other end, "This is just Dermot Toole from Headfort. I need to speak to you regarding Johnny and Roshni, they're both sitting in my office as we speak"

"Oh! Both of them?!" Monica's cheeks grew red with embarrassment as her classmates' curious eyes continued to bore into her, "Can I phone back?"

"Well, we rang your household and your partner's assistant told us they were busy," he explained, then asked, "are you available to talk?"

"Everything okay, Monica?" Florence asked her in slight concern.

"Uhm, sorry but can you hold please?" she mumbled down the phone and involuntarily answered her, in a daze, "Sorry, my children's school principal is phoning me"

As far as Monica was aware, she was keeping Johnny and Roshni a secret from her classmates... up until this point.

"She has children?!" Someone loudly whispered.

"I thought Monica seemed kinda older than us!" said another.

Monica felt nothing but instant regret and panic at letting the cat out of the bag:

"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?! Quick Mo, think!!"

"I guess I forgot." she talked under her breath.

The blonde man with glasses scoffed, "How does one forget that they have children?!"

Monica ignored him. Meanwhile the rest of her classmates shrugged and walked further away down the corridor, except for Florence still standing in front of her in disbelief, "You never told me that you were a mother. We've known each other for weeks now."

She felt her hand grow sweaty as it gripped onto her Motorola, Mr Toole still waiting for her on the line.

"Listen," Monica quietly began so that only Florence could hear, " the reason why I didn't tell you straight away is because I want to protect my children's anonymity as best I can, including my own"

"What about their father?" Florence innocently asked.

"Shit..." she mouthed, "Now what do I tell her?"

"Oh... are you in danger? Is their father abusive or something?" Florence continued to ask more frantically, voice hushed and eyebrows arched.

"Florence!!" Monica hissed across her, losing patience, "I wouldn't go that far!"

"Right, sorry, sorry for my ignorance," the girl covered her mouth in mortification, yet she still pursued, "But if you are in danger you can tell me"

"I'm on the run from the press, not him"

But Monica had given up, and lying seemed easier at this point, "Sort of..."

Florence's eyes widened, "And... are your children safe?"

"I don't know why, which is why I have to take this call," Monica curtly turned away with her hand still on the mic of her phone, then turned to her again, "You won't tell anyone about what I've just told you, will you Florence?"

The girl hesitated, and Monica could see the hurt in her hazel eyes.

Yet, she refused to apologise, "I hope you can understand why I hid it from you"

"Of course, I'll keep it a secret from the others," Florence murmured, then earnestly assured her, "are you sure you won't come to the film afterwards?"

"It's alright, you go on and enjoy it without me" growing impatient, Monica gestured for her to rejoin the group with a head-nod before lifting her Motorola back to her ear, "Sorry, are you still there?"

"Ah, you're back! Pay attention, you two!" she heard Mr Toole tell them both firmly in the background, "Let's get down to business, shall we? ... Ms Brannigan, your two children were both caught in a brawl together in the canteen at breakfast this morning"

"Oh no..." Monica cringed at more than just the tone of exasperation in his voice.

He continued, "Now, as you can imagine there were multiple witnesses, most of the student body in fact... and according to them it was Roshni who instigated it"

"Roshni?" she sounded, students walking past her in the corridor.

"Yes, and judging by how highly her teachers speak of her I expected better from her," Mr Toole muttered truthfully, "And Johnny was fighting his sister tooth and nail for god-knows-what because neither of them will tell me how the fight started! Now, do you have any idea why?"

"Well, twins will be twins and... I did tell them not to fight before they came here," she shielded her mouth so that passers-by couldn't hear her, "Are you sure nobody else was involved? Are you sure either of them weren't wrongly acting out in self-defence?"

Mr Toole's voice sighed, and for once he addressed her by her first name, "Monica, the other children know what they saw and I saw it too. As a matter of fact I walked in on them when I was about to make an early morning announcement, and all the children were circling them and egging them on."

Still feeling embarrassed, Monica ducked into the empty disabled toilet across the corridor and locked the door after her.

"The reason why I ask you if there was anybody else involved is because, about over a year ago, Johnny and Roshni both got bullied in their first school" she reminisced.

"What sort of bullying, may I ask?" he asked inquisitively.

"Well, if I recall, at playtime one day Roshni got locked in a coal shed by a group of older girls who tricked her and stole her favourite hair clip. Johnny noticed one of them wearing it, and when he tried to..." she stopped to correct herself, "when Johnny wrongly tried to stop them and get it back by starting a fight with them, he got sent to the headmaster. I wasn't there, their father was. But one thing led to another so I'm told," she continued to explain whilst Mr Toole listened patiently, "and when it was revealed that Roshni had been locked in the shed the whole time, the headmaster wouldn't do anything because the older girl's dad was on the school board. So, we took them to a new school which was their last school before they came here."

There was a small period of silence on the other end.

"So... your children have switched schools a few times already?" Mr Toole clarified.

"Yes... perhaps it's confusing for them to adjust. As for what caused this fight, I really do not know I'm afraid."

"While I understand the difficulties that Johnny and Roshni must be facing, and the ones that they have undoubtedly faced in the past, they still disobeyed our school's code of conduct and behaved in an unacceptable manner towards one another. Therefore they will both be punished accordingly."

"I understand..." she replied under her breath, "what will their punishment be?"

Headmaster's office, Headfort School, Kells, Co.Meath, Ireland

Dermot Toole sat back in his chair with his phone to his ear, sternly looking at Johnny and Roshni Bulsara sitting in front of his mahogany desk in his study, surrounded by walls of bookcases and both sullenly staring at their hands in their laps with no expression. Although every now and then they would slip a glare at one another when they didn't think that their headmaster was looking.

Six weeks into the school semester, Mr Toole still found it hard to believe that they were both twin brother and sister. They both looked so different from each other, and judging by what he'd heard about them both in the staff room they were different. From Roshni's keen and bright interest to learn in the classroom which made her a delight to teach, to Johnny's theatrical antics that made him uncontrollable yet likeable. Perhaps they were both adopted, but born on the same day of the same year?

But alas. It wasn't Mr Toole's place to question such things, and he had business to do:

"I have given them both afternoon detention this friday," he explained to their mother, "Two teachers have already, and may I add rather enthusiastically, volunteered to host one of them each in which they will be disciplined as to how that teacher sees fit"

Johnny and Roshni looked at each other in panic; Johnny wouldn't be able to attend auditions for Peter Pan, and Roshni wouldn't be able to attend the 24 Game tournament. Now, it was clear that they both understood the consequences of their actions.

"Can I possibly speak to them before I hang up?" Monica requested.

"By all means, do!" he told her willingly, "As their mother, I'm sure that you can do a better job than me at getting down to the bottom of how this fight started"

He stretched across his desk and held his receiver out to the both of them. He watched as Roshni was the first to take it off of him, for she decided to take accountability at that moment, and hold it near enough her ear so that she could hear.

Meanwhile her brother held back.

"Get closer to your sister, Johnny" Mr Toole told him softly.

Johnny reluctantly obeyed, and leaned in:

"Hi, mum" one of them cheeped tepidly.

"Hello, love. What happened this morning?"

The sound of her voice was painful enough for them, but it only hurt more when they could hear the disappointment in it.

Roshni began, "Johnny distracted me when I was about to-"

Johnny cut across her loudly, snatching the receiver from his sister, "She attacked me and told me that I could only-"

"Now now, you two" Mr Toole warned them, and they both sheepishly held the phone back in between them.

"I have to say, I expected better from you both," her soft voice sighed, "I thought I'd told you both to mind each other while you were staying in Ireland, not fight!"

Mr Toole watched as the twins stayed remorsefully silent, continuing to listen:

"And Roshni, you were the one who struggled to control your emotions this time. Why?" Monica addressed her.

Roshni felt too embarrassed to tell her about Oshiro, and how excited she felt about the 24 Game on friday before Johnny stepped in and distracted her. But now she couldn't go, and she felt angry about how unfair it all was:

Her blue eyes filling to the brim with tears, she told her mother, "You don't care about how we feel!"

"Roshni!!" Her mother reprimanded on the other side, "You know that's not true! If I didn't care then I wouldn't be having this phone call with you!"

"You still dumped us here! Just because you and dad didn't want to look after us anymore!" Johnny stubbornly and numbly spoke into the phone, "You might as well say it, even dad already thinks I'm annoying and stupid"

His mother began, "Johnny, you know that we didn't have much of a choice. One day you will understand why we did this... and I know that dad has hurt you and been utterly unfair to you, Johnny. And therefore it's easy for you to think that he sent you away for that reason. But the truth is that he loves you and your sister, and he is putting all of the faith that he has left in Mr Toole and your teachers to make you the best person that you can be."

But shortly after she had started speaking, Johnny had crossed his arms and sat away, choosing to ignore the rest of her phone call.

However, Roshni was listening to Monica's heartfelt statement the whole time:

"Thanks mum..." she rubbed her wet eyes with the ball of her hand, "I'll make sure Johnny knows. I'm sorry for letting you down."

"It's not me that you should be apologising to, sweetheart. It's your brother," she reminded her, "You need each other, you're the only family that you've got while you're away."

"But Christmas is ages away... it'll be ages before we come home again"

"Why don't you try calculating how many sleeps you've got until Christmas morning?" Monica suggested encouragingly, "You're good at maths after all"

Her mother was right. Even if Roshni had to live out her punishment on friday and miss the 24 Game, she could still find new things to look forward to such as Christmas.

"Thanks, I'll try that," Roshni sniffled, "Love you"

"I love you too. Be a good girl for me from now on, okay? And... give your brother my love for me"

Roshni nodded, and uttered a small goodbye before handing the receiver back to her headmaster.

"Thank you for your efforts, Ms Brannigan," Mr Toole acknowledged, "You have my number if you need... Yes, you have a good day as well... goodbye."

He gently set the phone back down on its cradle in front of him, but it immediately started to ring again.

"This is what happens when you are the headmaster, children. It comes with popularity," Mr Toole sighed jokingly in an attempt to make the twins smile again, and picked it up again, "Hello? Mr Toole's office?"

It was Headfort's receptionist,"There's a man on the line who insists that he's the twin's father?"

"Did he say his name at all?" Mr Toole asked.

"He said it's confidential..." his receptionist muttered peculiarly, "Do you know the identity of their father?"

"Never mind, he's on the forms somewhere. Just him through please," he instructed, and pulled his phone away, "Your dad is getting in touch, children"

Roshni looked to her brother for a response, but Johnny sat with his head turned away from her.

"Are Johnny and Roshni there?" the man's syrupy soft voice eventually asked without introducing itself.

"I beg to ask first to be certain, are you their father?" Mr Toole asked, having not met the seemingly enigmatic figure yet.

"Yes," Freddie replied gruffly, "Now if they are there can you hand me over to them please, good man?"

Mr Toole brushed off his sarcasm, and held his phone back to them with a nod. Once again, Roshni was the first to take it, but this time more tentatively.

"Hi, dad" she spoke timidly.

"Are the both of you there?" Freddie queried coldly.

Roshni tugged the sleeve of her brother's school jumper for him to get in again. Johnny noised under his breath, and compliantly moved back in closer...

"Now we are." she told her father.

"My darlings... based on what I've heard, I trust you've had a bad start to your monday," Freddie began awkwardly, then asked, "What even happened between the both of you?"

Johnny and Roshni remained wistfully tight-lipped.

"Well, if you aren't going to tell me what happened then that is alright, it won't make my job any easier anyway," Freddie rambled on after a moment's silence, "but if you're both still there listening to me, I just want you to know that I had a bad morning as well yesterday. We all have bad mornings sometimes... and yesterday I behaved in a way that I shouldn't have because of it"

Mr Toole watched as they both sat up a straight a little more, seemingly engaged in interest at their father's story:

"You see, it was those horrible newspaper reporters and journalists again, and paparazzi waiting for Pheebs and I at Heathrow Airport when we were arriving back in London yesterday," Freddie explained to them in a way that they could understand, "As usual, these people were asking me questions that I didn't want to answer... but this time they were also accusing me of things that weren't true and telling great, big lies. And even though they were lies they still made me very angry."

Johnny and Roshni continued to listen silently as their headmaster still watched and waited.

"Roshni, you remember when I shouted at you for accidentally breaking a vase of mine when you were very little, don't you?" their father asked ashamedly out of nowhere.

"Yeah, a bit" the girl squeaked.

"Yesterday was a little bit like that too. I lost a hold of my temper, but only this time I said some things to the newspaper reporters in a manner that I shouldn't have" Freddie continued. 

"But you and mum tell us that we're not allowed to speak to them if they come up to us" Roshni asserted.

"I know Roshni, you're right," he affirmed, "Because even though they were being stupid, nasty people I was only giving them the reaction that they wanted to see."

Johnny and Roshni looked at one another. Mr Toole could see that they were starting to contemplate hard, for whatever their father was telling them must've been thought-provoking:

"I gave them a reaction that they could print everywhere on the front pages of their newspapers the next day!" Freddie admitted honestly, and carried on telling them both, "Instead, I should've been better. I should've walked past them and not said anything to them at all, and showed them that their lies didn't bother me. And that day when you broke my vase Roshni, I should've taken a deep breath instead of screaming at you. Understand?"

"Yes" they both noised into the phone.

"Now, the both of you... just do as your mother told you to and look after each other while you're here," Freddie advised them, his voice now soft and on the verge of cracking, "and remember that anger is not an excuse for hurting others who hurt you. The consequences aren't worth it, especially if it is the people that you love..."

He said the last part as though he had wanted to say more, but refrained.

Instead, he parted with these words before hanging up, "Goodbye, my little loves."

Naturally, Roshni took the dial tone as the cue to hand the phone back to her headmaster.

As Mr Toole took it from her and set it back on its cradle, he looked at Johnny. The boy was still stoic, but by now his dark eyes were glistening with tears.

The sight of a crying child was not an uncommon sight for Mr Toole to have faced throughout his career in education. At this point, he would normally hand them a tissue before dismissing them back to their classroom. But there was something about the two distraught children sitting in front of him, and the dynamic between them as brother and sister, that was so abstruse and therefore he felt as though he needed to know more about them...

So Dermot leaned forward, and started with a basic warm-up question that he'd asked plenty of his troubled students who'd passed in and out of his office before:

"Do you both miss home?"

Johnny and Roshni hesitated, but they both sobbed quietly and nodded.

"I'm sure it's scary living away from your mum and dad, and living in a new country..." Mr Toole sympathised, "But so many of your classmates are just like you, you know"

"Sometimes I wish things didn't have to change so much," Roshni thought aloud, murmuring, "I wish I could come home again after school, and just do my homework and play on my Atari or with Luke and Leia Skywalker"

"Who are they?" Mr Toole asked, presuming they were imaginary friends named after the characters in the Star Wars films.

"Our cats," Johnny answered, and added with a little bit of pride, "I named them that"

"And I miss Mum brushing my hair and her cooking, no offence to Miss O'Malley... and mum's hugs"

Mr Toole could see that the two children had both perked up by now.

He carefully asked next, "And what about your father? He's is a musician, so I'm told"

Johnny looked at his lap, "He's away a lot. He came home from Japan yesterday"

Mr Toole's brows furrowed, all the while Roshni added, "Last week in French class, when we had to write about our parents in French for homework, I had to make things up about him"

"And why's that?" he asked.

"Because he hardly spends time with us," Johnny grumbled, "not unless he drags us out to go shopping and dress us up in stupid prissy outfits or make us watch boring old black and white films"

Roshni turned to him, "But Johnny, you said you liked the German one about the robot lady, the one that he used in his music videos"

"Metropolis? Yeah, that one's okay... anyway, he used to teach me to play piano and now he doesn't do that anymore," Johnny folded his arms again and looked out the window, "Well, at least not since... since-"

"Since the baby died?" Roshni finished his sentence.

Johnny silently nodded, and continued, "And mum didn't always help with homework like she used to when we got home either. She's started drinking wine in the daytime now and didn't do that before."

His sister nodded, "Sometimes she falls asleep with it on the sofa."

Mr Toole had seen families go through it before; the loss of a child was a complicated grief that could potentially tear apart loved ones or, in the twin's mother's case, make them turn to self-destructive coping mechanisms.

"Well," he cleared his throat gently, "I'm very sorry to hear about your little brother or sister's death"

"We don't know if it was a boy or girl, it died in her tummy when it was still too small" Roshni corrected him further.

"There was blood everywhere too, she had to go to hospital in the middle of the night," Johnny added, and sadly trailed off, "Dad cried, and he hardly ever cries..."

A child's innocence, honesty and lack of a filter is enough to make anybody's heart sink. And the same could be said for Mr Toole, for the more these children told him about their lives the more he could see that they felt somewhat responsible for the misfortunes and tragedies that was out of their control. And therefore they must've felt like somewhat of a burden on their parents.

He thought remorsefully, "And homesickness on its own is bad enough too"

But, with his teacher-ly wisdom, Mr Toole thought of an allegorical way of helping them understand their feelings.

"Don't worry, children. Change can be a very scary thing," he stated, "It's like... a dark tunnel that you have to pass through. It's pitch black, maybe cold, or maybe even smelly too,"

"Like a sewer?" Johnny interjected.

"I suppose," the man chuckled, "But above all, tunnels are scary. They can have rats and rodents scurrying everywhere if they're, as you say Johnny, a sewer... or there can be a busy road running through them with cars speeding towards you with headlights in all directions-"

"Or there can be bats above your head, or even a monster or a ghost hiding in them!" Roshni added.

"Exactly, you're getting this!" Mr Toole encouraged, and continued seriously, "But eventually we can find ways to pass through the tunnel, whether it's a wall to hold onto and follow or daylight in the distance. Just like change, we come out the other end of a tunnel unharmed and become who we are meant to be."

"I bet I still won't be able to brush my hair on my own when I come out of that tunnel!" Roshni joked sarcastically.

"I bet I'll still be stupid," Johnny murmured sullenly, "That is if one of the speeding cars doesn't hit me first"

"You're not stupid, Johnny," Mr Toole assured him, "If you were stupid, then you probably wouldn't be sitting here and having this conversation with your sister and I, now would you?"

"Yeah, you'd be a vegetable or something" Roshni told him with a giggle.

"Or... a tree," her brother said morosely when he'd remembered his sister's cruel words, "Maybe you're right, Roshni. Even if I did get to go to the Peter Pan auditions on Friday instead of detention, all I'd get is the part of a tree."

"...I didn't mean that, Johnny," she told him earnestly, and took her mother's advice, "I'm sorry for saying those mean things and fighting you. I ruined next Friday afternoon for not just me, but for you too."

"Well, I ruined it too by fighting you back," Johnny reasoned, "I'm sorry, Roshni"

Twin brother and sister both put an arm around one another for a brief but affectionate hug.

For Mr Toole, there was nothing more rewarding than watching children learn. And therefore knowing that he helped make a positive difference, even if it meant righting some wrongs and helping them understand and accept responsibility.

Then, the childrens' hug was disturbed by a knock on the oak office door.

Roshni swung her head behind her in panic and broke away from her brother.

"Well, I expect that will be the teachers whom will be taking your detentions on friday" Mr Toole stood up from his desk.

"Oh no!" Johnny thought of the dread of being punished.

Mr Toole opened the door, and in walked two women:

"Miss Singh?" Roshni gasped, cheeks reddening.

"Mrs Joyce... what are you doing here?" Johnny asked.

There must've been some sort of joke, for they were each of the twins' favourite teachers.

"Johnny Bulsara, on Friday afternoon you will enter into the auditions that Mrs Joyce and her husband Mr Joyce will be holding for the upcoming Peter Pan play," Mr Toole instructed him firmly, "Your name is already on the attendance list and if you do not attend then there will be further consequences, young man"

Johnny did his best to hide his simper of glee, "Yes, sir"

"As for you Roshni," Mr Toole turned to her, "Miss Singh will be hosting your detention in which you will have to partake in the school tournament for the... what was the name of it, Gurinder?"

"The 24 Game" Miss Gurinder Singh answered him.

"That's it, thank you, the 24 Game," he mumbled, and cleared his throat, "I hope you know your times tables and division. Now, do you both understand what is expected of you?"

They both nodded momentarily, trying to contain their excitement and relief. But Roshni raised her hand.

"Go ahead, Ms Bulsara" Mr Toole gave her a nod.

"I will attend Miss Singh's detention under one teeny, tiny condition, if that's alright with her" she declared.

Her maths teacher leaned forward, "Yes? What is it?"

"That Oshiro will be my teammate for the tournament on friday"

"Is that alright with you Gurinder?" Mr Toole asked her teacher.

Taken aback, Miss Singh giggled, "Of course!"

"If Roshni gets to have her own condition on friday then I want one too!" Johnny shot up off of his seat stubbornly.

"Yes, anything!" Mrs Joyce nodded, almost desperate to have him on friday.

The boy paused, and begged his Drama and English teacher, "Please don't make me a tree, miss!"

Everyone in the headmaster's office laughed, and Mrs Joyce assured him, "Don't worry, you already have too much charisma to be a tree!"

"Mr and Ms Bulsara, you may leave," Mr Toole ordered when the room quietened down, but he stopped them as they stood up, "And... one more thing"

Johnny and Roshni paused and looked over their shoulders.

"Try to have fun on friday... but not too much fun. You're in detention after all" he reminded them with a wink.

Johnny and Roshni nodded, and walked out of the office with their teachers in tow.

As the door shut, Mr Toole looked at the oil-painted portrait of the long-deceased Thomas Taylour, 1st Earl of Bective and Headfort's first resident, hanging up on the wall of his study.

As if he was addressing an old friend or colleague, Dermot uttered in a sigh, "God help them both, Tom."

****

Around 10pm, Garden Lodge, Borough of Kensington and Chelsea

"I think you can turn the taps off now, dearie" Freddie ordered, reclining in his effervescent and large jacuzzi tub that was surrounded by wall-to-wall mirrors in his en-suite bathroom.

"About time, you must be getting buried in bubbles there" Monica obeyed as she walked over with just a bath towel fastened around her chest and a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio in one hand, sitting on the tub's marble edge as she turned the knobs of the brass taps off with the other.

"I wonder if she found out about the newspapers yet" Freddie was troubled with the same thought for the thousandth time, watching her as she set her wine glass down on the tiled floor beside him and started to unwrap her towel.

Perhaps it was a sign that he should get a blood test for HIV as a safety precaution, but that alone was devastating for his family.

Besides, Monica had her own problems, and the newspapers would have been sold out in the street's kiosks and agents by the time that she returned home.

"She would've brought it up by now if she'd heard any rumours" he assured himself as he watched her naked figure step into the tub, her pale body reflected in the mirrors.

She shuffled in between Freddie's spread legs with her back to him, and he allowed her to settle down against his bare, hairy chest before locking one of his muscular arms around her and holding her close to him.

As she closed her eyes and let the alcohol settle into her bloodstream she heard Freddie momentarily sigh with satisfaction behind her, and say, "I'm glad we waited until tonight to do this"

"Why, because it's a Monday?" Monica opened one eye as he took another long drag of his cigarette.

He exhaled tobacco smoke away from her, before answering, "Because we earned it, darling"

She smiled as she felt him kiss the side of her head on her temple, his moustache tickling her skin, for even if it was just a pretence it still felt undeniably nice.

Of course, with the bathroom door left open just a crack, it wasn't long before Freddie and Monica could both hear the lapping of a small tongue on water, and they realised that they weren't alone.

They both looked over to see Luke Skywalker bent into the toilet bowl, with only his hind legs and tail in view as he was perched on the seat.

"LUKE!!" Freddie shouted, almost making Monica jump, "OUT OF THE TOILET!"

The cat paused at the sound of his human's raised voice, his tail halting still in the air, only to go back to enjoying his drink from the bowl.

"Eughhhhh... you could've at least closed the door" Freddie noised in disgust.

"Oh, let him have it. It's alright as long as the toilet is flushed," Monica defended, closing her eyes again as she lazily added, "Perhaps Phoebe forgot to put fresh water in his bowl before he went home, that's all."

He incomprehensibly grumbled in return, and once things turned silent again.

The scene was the height of decadence, him with a cigarette in hand and her with a glass of white wine. Yet Monica felt somewhat undeserving of such an indulgence, and even more guilty for not only lying to Florence about Freddie but also hiding her secret double-life, for most of her classmates were probably going home to their cold £60-a-week flats [the going-rate for rent in 1980s London] with no central heating and mould in the walls. Meanwhile here she was, sitting in a jacuzzi bathtub in the arms of one of the world's biggest rockstars, consumed by warm water and bubble bath up to her neck.

And what was worse was that she didn't know to believe whether or not the man whom she was sharing such a moment with even loved her back anymore.

"Johnny and Roshni already resent me for sending them away... if only there was an easy way of making them understand" she thought, taking another gulp of her wine.

She yearningly asked him out of the blue, "Do you think I am a bad mother?"

"Oh, don't you start." Freddie murmured in her ear.

"Earlier today, Roshni said that we don't care about her feelings," she recalled, "And Johnny said that we didn't want to look after them anymore."

"She was like that anyway when we first told them about boarding school, wasn't she?" Freddie took another drag.

"You mean when I first told them?" She corrected him, hugging her knees to her chest, "Anyway, I thought they'd both got over it by now. Do you think that we made the right decision?"

"Do you think just for once we could talk about something else besides the children?" he purred behind her.

Oh, how irresistible his voice sounded.

"It's just that I can't stop thinking about what they said," Monica scooped a handful of bubbles into her cupped hands as she did her best to resist it, "What if, sometimes, they actually do think that we don't care about them?"

Freddie clenched his jaw, "And I can't stop thinking about the fact that I might have fucking AIDS!"

"You're overthinking it, darling," he reached over and took the wine glass out of her hand, then frivolously added, "Besides, I phoned the school and spoke to them. It seemed to work."

"You did? Are you sure?" Monica looked over her shoulder, gripping the bathtub edge.

"Well, they didn't argue back to me so I assume it did" Freddie set his cigarette on the crystal ashtray sitting on the marble corner of the tub.

She sat up slightly and began smoothing her shoulder length dark brown hair away from her face in her reflection, her wet, suddy hands and perspiration starting to dampen it, "Just promise me that you'll keep taking the time to show them that you care about them" 

But it was only half-hearted, "Mmphmm..."

Freddie admired Monica in the mirrors, for he liked it when her hair was soaking wet. It looked longer past her shoulders, and therefore she resembled how she looked when she was younger.

It wasn't long before his lustful desires soon took over at such racy thoughts, and his lips were lightly grazing her bare shoulder as one of his hands began to squeeze her breasts.

"Oh!' Monica's mouth fell open in growing ecstasy, her left arm instinctively reaching behind to hold Freddie's head closer against her neck as he kissed it.

In response his breath heaved and heart beat faster as he hungrily kissed her hand and her fingers as they caressed his head, tweaking her nipple in between his fingertips... until he noticed something:

Freddie paused, "Where is your engagement ring gone?"

Monica drew her arm back, and fumbled, "It's in my nightstand. I-I didn't want it to get stolen, or chipped"

He smirked, playfully resting his chin on her shoulder, "Or did you just want to look unavailable?"

She scoffed, "People in my class would start asking questions about you and the twins and you don't want that, do you?!"

Freddie nonchalantly pulled her closer against him again, this time moving his hand lower down her torso under the water and in between her spread legs...

"Oh god..." Monica sounded breathily as he felt his long fingers teasing her labia.

It wasn't long before she could feel his throbbing erection under the water, poking uncomfortably into her lower back.

"Let me take you... please" Freddie begged desperately, beads of sweat forming on his brow bone.

She willingly rose out of the water slightly, got on all fours and pulled his hands onto her waist, allowing him to access her from behind.

"Oh, god yes!" he noised as he entered her, reaching over to fondle her breasts as he watched her in the mirrors.

Monica moaned as his lithe hips started thrusting quickly and deeply into her pelvis, gripping tightly onto the marble edge of the tub as she felt herself spiralling into orgasm quicker than ever.

"Fuck..." she heard Freddie choke behind her as he held her waist, "I-I need to look at you properly when I fuck you..."

"Oh..." she panted as he quickly pulled out, and spun her back around to face him.

Freddie aggressively grabbed her pink face and snaked his tongue into her mouth, and finally their hungry lips collided during their lustful and passionate exchange.

"I love you" he uttered when they broke, pulling her thigh against his hip as he lay back a little.

"I love you too..." Monica draped her arms around his broad shoulders as she mounted him.

She savoured his lips with another long and tender kiss, before they both let out a moan in unison as she slipped back onto him.

"Oh yes, baby... take me there" Freddie groaned, biting his lower lip as his dark eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Soon enough, Monica laced her hands with his to steady herself as she continued to ride him up and down, and her face contorting in pleasure was a feast for his eyes.

Vapours of steam swirled around them, the mirrors fogged up, and the temperatures rose as they grew lost in each other once again.

No matter how many ups and downs they were having, their instincts couldn't deny that they were inseparable...

Around the same time, Artemis Dormitory, Headfort School, Kells, Co.Meath

"Johnny..."

Johnny Bulsara faintly heard someone whispering in his sleep.

But he wasn't startled, for he assumed that it was just another voice in another dream.

"...Johnny!" it went on again, this time a little louder.

It wasn't until a pair of hands started shaking him awake that he bolted upright in his bunk, almost panicking, "What?!"

Standing in front of Johnny was a short figure dressed in a white nightgown that was ghostly lit up by the moon shining outside the tall window.

For a second he believed it to be one of his classmates playing a haunting prank.

Until the figure whispered, "It's only me, Roshni"

"What are you doing in the boy's dormitory?!" he hissed, trying no to wake his classmate resting in the bunk above him.

"I can't sleep." Roshni told him.

"How did you get past the matron?" Johnny pressed, sitting up slightly and looking at the dormitory door which was fortunately closed.

"I heard her get up from the chair and go downstairs to use the toilet." she answered.

He groaned, and with what pity he had left at that second he lifted his duvet cover for sister.

"Get in quickly, but you better be gone before sunrise," Johnny instructed, "Otherwise the others will catch you"

Roshni climbed in, careful not to make too much noise, and curled up next to her twin brother's warm body.

He shuddered, "Your feet are too cold, get them away from me!"

"Sorry" she shuffled away a little.

Johnny waited for Roshni to get comfortable and lie still, listening out for the matron's footsteps in the corridor the whole time, before closing his eyes again.

"I think mum and dad don't love each other anymore" She said after a while.

"Why do you think that?" Johnny lifted his head from his pillow.

"Mum wasn't very happy with us, she told us off," Roshni explained quietly, "But dad didn't"

"He still wasn't happy with us though, wasn't he?" he muttered.

His sister whispered a little louder and firmer, "Usually mum and dad tell us the same things because they think and agree over the same things... but they both thought differently this time"

Johnny failed to see her point, "And?"

"What if we come home and they aren't together anymore, like Uncle Brian and Aunty Chrissie?" Roshni asked, " Where are we going to live?"

"I'd rather live here... until I'm 18 at least" her brother closed his eyes numbly.

"But you can't live here forever, Johnny! They don't board people over the age of 12, and you didn't want to go to this school anyway"

"I'm not so sure now." Johnny grumbled.

Roshni stayed silent as he aggressively pulled the duvet back up a little and stiffened, as if to say, "That is that, end of conversation."

But she wasn't done talking yet.

"You know earlier, did you really mean what you said?" she asked.

"About what?"

"About me being selfish and mean, like dad?"

"You were being selfish and mean" Johnny answered bluntly.

"I know that now, I did say I was sorry," she admitted remorsefully, "But what I mean is did you mean that about dad?"

"I don't know..." he replied doubtfully, "But at the end of the day dad only pays attention to me when I'm in trouble... I bet he doesn't even miss me. And if I died he wouldn't cry for me the way he cried for the baby. That's why I'd be better off staying here forever."

Roshni couldn't think of anything to say, for she couldn't deny that there was some truth in the first part of his sentence.

Then, a memory cropped up in her mind:

"Johnny?"

"Mmph?"

"You know, the summer before last, that night of the thunderstorm when you went to sleep on our bedroom floor because dad wouldn't do Live Aid? Then the next morning, we woke up in mum and dad's bed?"

"Yeah. What about it?" he spoke into his pillow.

Roshni looked back on it, "While you were still asleep, him and mum found you on the bedroom floor. Daddy was the one who lifted you off of it, carried you to their bedroom, and tucked you in"

Johnny's voice wasn't so muffled this time, "He was?"

She nodded in the dark, "And while I was still awake I watched him kiss you on the head goodnight"

"Eughhh!!" he shuddered in repulsion.

"Aren't you listening to what I'm saying?" Roshni sprang back up, growing slightly impatient, "He does love you, you know"

"Mum says that, and even Pheebs says that... but I'll believe it when I see it." her brother spurned.

"I've just told you, I saw it!" She raised her voice a little.

"But why can daddy show me that he loves me when I'm awake?" Johnny continued, "Why can't he praise me the same way he praises you and make me feel like I'm... I'm..."

The boy couldn't think of the right word.

"Like you're worth something?" Roshni suggested.

"Yes, that's it," he looked back over his shoulder, "Like I'm-"

"Roshni!?!" a shrill hiss sounded across him.

The twins quickly looked over in the direction of where the sound came from.

The Matron stood at the doorway holding her oil lamp that cast a warm glow in the corner of the dormitory.

Matron probed the girl, her voice hushed, "What in God's name are you doing in the boy's dormitory in the middle of the night?"

Roshni's mouth gaped open as Johnny answered for her, "My sister just wanted to talk to me, miss"

"Well, come on now pet," the Matron's tone suddenly turned soft and kind, "Whatever it is that you want to talk about you'll see your brother tomorrow morning"

Roshni gingerly climbed out of Johnny's bed, before whispering to him, "Look under your pillow when I'm gone"

She followed the shadow of the Matron's extended arm in the doorway. As Johnny pulled his duvet back over himself, he heard Matron ask his sister one more time, "Remind me, which dormitory is yours?"

"Bastet" Roshni shyly squeaked, followed by a click of the door shutting behind her.

"Alright, best be careful not to wake the other girls..." he heard the Matron faintly say behind the wall, before their voices faded down the corridor and up the staircase.

When he was sure that they were gone, Johnny lifted his pillow. And indeed, squinting in the moonlight was a copy of Peter Pan that his sister had managed to slip under his head. 

He smiled and opened the cover, and the Headfort Library's stamp with the return date was inked on the first page.

"I better read it before friday." Johnny slid it back underneath his pillow.

He laid back down and closed his eyes. And soon enough Johnny was lulled to sleep with not only the excitement of doing the play or having dreams of flying to Neverland, but also the hope that somewhere deep down his father still loved him...