Malcolm Grimes carried a lot of anger.
Towards his parents, towards the church, towards the world in general, and, for a long time, towards the people who had hurt his twin sister.
He knew the names of everyone involved in the prank that night at Black Dog Farm, the one that had resulted in Margaret’s death. Understood exactly what had happened.
After Margaret left the disco with Olivia and Rachel, he had followed, curious to know where they were going, hiding in the trees to the side of the cottage as they went around the back and disappeared inside.
He had seen the fire, watched as Fern St Clair and her friends had fled the building. Recognised them all as they argued outside before bolting back into the woods towards the farmhouse. Margaret and Olivia had still been inside.
Rachel Williams was the only one who had stayed. She had been by the window when Malcolm had approached. Trying, he assumed, to pluck up courage to go back inside.
He had pushed her out of the way, desperate to get to his sister.
Clambering through the window he had found a motionless body, assumed it was Margaret, and managed to pass her back out to Rachel.
Distraught when he realised it was Olivia and not Margaret, he had attempted to go back for his sister, but the flames were rising, the smoke too thick, and it was impossible.
He had fled the building, ran crying in rage and grief into the woods, leaving Rachel and Olivia behind. The next morning, he learnt that Rachel Williams had taken credit for saving Olivia from the fire.
Malcolm hadn’t called her out on it. Didn’t want the attention on him. He could speak out and tell the truth about how Fern and her friends had pulled a cruel prank and then ran from the cottage. How they were responsible for Margaret’s death. But if he did, questions would be asked. They would want to know why he had followed them, why he hadn’t stayed with Olivia and Rachel. And worst of all, if Fern and her cronies stuck together, he could end up being blamed for the fire.
It was better to stay quiet. The guilty would get their comeuppance in the end. Malcolm was a big believer in karma.
And so he had adjusted to life simply as a brother, no longer a twin, shifting his sole focus to Alice.
That was the thing about Malcolm. People thought he didn’t care, and yes, he tried to give that impression, but the truth was, when it came to the important stuff, he cared almost too much. Especially about his sisters.
He watched his parents mould the newly compliant Alice into the Margaret-sized hole, horrified at the change in his free-spirited sister.
When he eventually learnt what had happened to her during that week he was away, what their so-called parents had done, he was fuelled by disgust, knew whatever happened he would forever be there for his one remaining sister.
That was why she had broken his heart when she had shut him out, moving away.
Alice tried so hard to be normal, marrying well, getting a good education. On the outside she was an achiever, was respected and had a good life. But that was all a shell. She was broken, dead on the inside.
It was Malcolm’s job to be there for her, to protect her, to fix her.
Margaret was gone, so he would do whatever it took to look after Alice.
