Just Williams

‘Tony could have saved me from all the gaffes of style, fashion and facial hair’

Simon on his absent twin

AS A CHILD I was never alone – I had an invisible companion. Didn’t everyone? Mine was somewhere between a teddy bear and a sidekick – the perfect ally; cleverer and braver than me. He’d be there when my brother didn’t need me. His name was Tony, a poorweather friend for when I was homesick or in a sulk, a friendly shadow. I never saw him as a twin, although I was intrigued by Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Romulus and Remus, etc. I loved The Parent Trap – two Hayley Mills were better than one.

In our teens, Tony and I went our separate ways – there was puberty stuff going on that might have shocked him. He was just a fantasy. Or was he?

One day when I was cramming for A levels in Brighton, I passed a clairvoyant’s booth on the promenade. It was raining and I had time on my hands. Madam Elsa was perfect casting: the black hair, the gaudy shawl, the blue eyeliner. As I placed my hands in hers I was already inventing jokes about her for my friends later. She closed her eyes, then smiled and said, ‘So you’re one of twins.’ I told her I was a Gemini and she must be confused. She shook her head and moved on. She saw me working with animals and making people laugh – she got that right; I once did a sitcom with Nigel Havers. That evening I mentioned the visit to my mother, ‘Well, she was right,’ she said. ‘You should have been one of a pair. I had a miscarriage at four months, but later we found you were still there, my pet.’ I wasn’t really surprised, I’d half-known all along.

My first feeling was of guilt that poor Tony had drawn the short straw, and I’d been happy as Larry, oblivious of his sacrifice. I was Tweedledum without my Dee. What fun we could have had: cross-dating and taking each other’s penalty points. For his sake, I try to doubly enjoy the good times – it’s the least I can do. Tony could have been my bellwether and saved me from all the gaffes of style, fashion and facial hair – Joan Rivers wished she’d had a twin so she could see what she’d look like without plastic surgery.

For members of The Lone Twin Network, who live with the ghosts of other halves, the loss is like an amputation – their twin might have gone, but the sensation lingers on. They all share a deep and private loneliness, the burden of having been one of ‘two lovely berries on a single stem’.

According to the Chinese proverb: ‘It’s not economical to go to bed early to save the candles if the result is twins.’ Simon plays Justin Elliott in The Archers. Turn to page 36 for our behind-the-scenes feature