''I think you'd better go to our room and think about what you've done. You can save your explanations for when Jem and mother get home.'' When Jemima didn't move, she shook her head, sadly. ''Go on,get out of my sight! I'm ashamed to call you my twin.'' She turned her back and resumed her mug-drying activities.
Jemima opened the door - red, of course, to her bedroom. There were two identical single beds in there, made up with identical scratchy-looking grey blankets. The second thing she noticed was that someone had nicked all her Mika posters. The only thing on the wall now was a big photograph of some old bloke with lots of hair and a big white beard - a bit like Father Christmas only not nearly so jolly. In fact he looked positively fierce.
Jemima sat on one of the beds. What had she got herself into this time?
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