Twin Tales by Jacqueline Wilson Page A

junk room would make you a lovely new big girl’s bedroom,’ said Mum.
    â€˜The junk room!’ shrieked Connie. (She didn’t actually say it. She shrieked it.)
    There were three rooms upstairs, not counting the bathroom. There was Mum and Dad’s bedroom. There was Connie’s bedroom. And there was the little junk room at the front of the house. It was called the junk room because it was jammed up with junk; suitcases and an old broken sofa; cardboard boxes of books and an old bike; and heaps of toys that Connie didn’t want to play with any more. Connie was starting to feel like one of the tired old teddies or droopy dolls. Mum and Dad seemed to have got fed up playing with her. They wanted a shiny new set of twins now. It was time to shove Connie in the junk room.

2. Name Games
    Connie thought she might have to balance her bed on top of all the junk in the junk room and sleep crammed against the ceiling. But Mum and Dad sifted through all the junk and threw a lot of it out. When the room was bare they painted it deep blue and stuck shiny stars up on the ceiling. Mum made Connie a new pink and blue patchwork quilt to go on her bed and Dad made shelves all the way up one wall for Connie’s books and games and videos. By the time they were finished it certainly wasn’t a junk room. It was a beautiful big girl’s bedroom.
    Connie couldn’t help but be pleased, but she still didn’t like seeing her old bedroom turned into a nursery for the twins. They didn’t just have new paint and a new quilt and new shelves. They had new everything. Twin cots. Twin prams. Twin baby chairs. The twins weren’t even here yet and already they seemed to be crowding Connie out.

    Mum was getting big and tired and needed lots of rest. She couldn’t dance to pop videos with Connie any more and sometimes when she was reading a bedtime story she nodded right off to sleep as she was speaking.
    Dad was getting worried about money and kept doing sums on bits of paper and sighing. He didn’t often feel like having a tickling match with Connie nowadays and didn’t go swimming with her on Saturday mornings because he was working overtime.
    â€˜It’s not any fun round here any more,’ Connie said darkly. ‘It’s all because of those boring babies. Who wants to have twitty old twins anyway?’
    â€˜We do,’ said Mum, firmly. ‘Come and give me a cuddle, Connie.’
    Mum was very big indeed now but Connie managed to squash into a corner of the sofa beside her.
    â€˜You’ll like your baby brother and sister when they’re here,’ said Mum.
    â€˜Will I?’ said Connie.
    â€˜And you’re going to be a super big sister and help Mum look after the babies, aren’t you, Connie?’ said Dad.
    â€˜Am I?’ said Connie.
    â€˜What are we going to call these twins, eh?’ said Mum. ‘Have you got any good ideas, Connie?’
    Connie had called the babies all sorts of names to herself. They were generally rather rude names. It wasn’t a good idea to announce these to Mum and Dad, so she simply shrugged.
    â€˜Come on, Connie, you choose,’ said Dad. ‘Think of two names that go together.’
    â€˜Mickey and Minnie,’ said Connie.
    Mum and Dad didn’t think a lot of this suggestion.
    â€˜Chip and Dale? Laurel and Hardy? Marks and Spencer?’ said Connie. ‘Stop being silly, sausage,’ said Mum, tweaking Connie’s nose. ‘How about two names that go with your name?’

    Connie thought hard. ‘Bonnie and Ronnie?’ She thought this a brilliant idea. She wasn’t being silly at all. But Mum and Dad were not keen. They decided on Claire and Charles. Connie thought these very boring names. But then she thought these were very boring babies.
    Weeks and weeks went by and Connie was fed up waiting for the babies to arrive. But then one night Granny came to stay and Dad took Mum to