[ WP ] You do n't remember ever owning the family dog , but everyone else seems to ...

Oliver and Leslie Harris had twin boys in October of nineteen-ninety seven, and with that, managed to meet almost all of their friends' and family's expectations. Leslie, the type of woman who had been heading towards motherhood since she turned six, and Oliver: a staunch middle achiever, a manager in a sector of work so boring it sent even his wife to sleep, met through mutual friends at a pub quiz. They shared two ginger beers and a tequila shot before deciding it would be best if they got married and settled down. 
 
 
 
 The twins arrived on October fifteenth. Leslie had picked out names for them: Luke and John. Not a particularly religious woman, but the names sounded dependable and were n't more than four letters long: perfect for young children learning to write. However, upon the arrival of the two boys ( while the father completed a crossword in the pub closest to the hospital ) Leslie held them in her arms and two very different names came to mind. 
 
 
 
 `` I do n't know how we'll explain it to Grandma Maud,'' Mr. Harris said, looking into the cots. One of his sons had blonde hair -- a remnant from his own childhood -- and the other a dark mop of curls. That one also had Rico's unfortunate nose. 
 
 
 
 `` It's not important,'' Leslie said. If she was going to be honest, the painkillers were beginning to kick in and the fact that she'd named her sons Latin words seemed all a bit abstract. 
 
 
 
 So if Mr. Harris pretended he had Scottish roots when he called Bonum,'Bonnie,' and tried to pretend Mal was short for Mallory ( totally a boy's name ) rather than Malus, then the whole of Little Hanging could n't have blamed him at all. 
 
 
 
 Bonnie grew up with hair bright as sunshine, long locks that Leslie could n't bear to cut even though the PTA warned against nits. He liked singing and had blue eyes that flashed when he smiled. Mal's smile lifted higher on one corner and he had a crooked tooth he used to open bottles with. His hair grew darker, and more unruly until Leslie could hardly get a brush through it. The school branded him as a troublemaker, and his report cards came home with'must try harder.' 
 
 
 If the inhabitants of Little Hanging thought that the two brothers were *odd* in some way, they kept it to themselves. 
 
 
 -- -- -- -- 
 
 
 `` Mum,'' Mal said carefully. `` When did the dog get here?'' 
 
 
 
 It lay on the rug in the kitchen, beside the Sunday papers. It was small, inky black and with eyes that could almost be considered red in some lights. One ear had been turned inside out. 
 
 
 
 `` What, Spot?'' Leslie said. She looked at the dog quizzically. `` Spot's always been here.'' 
 
 
 
 `` Yeah, Mal,'' Bonnie repeated from the table. His eyes glinted when he smiled. `` Spot's always been here.'' He dropped a slice of spam from his spam and pickle sandwich ( Mrs Harris' speciality ) and the dog trotted up to him eagerly. 
 
 
 
 `` No he has n't,'' Mal insisted. `` He was n't here yesterday.'' 
 
 
 
 `` You took him for a walk yesterday,'' Leslie said. `` Do n't be silly. Sit down and have a spam sandwich.'' 
 
 
 
 Bonnie grinned and fed the dog more spam. When it opened its mouth, the inside gleamed red as a cherry. Multiple rows of needle-sharp silver teeth lined its maw. Mal shuddered. 
 
 
 
 `` Where did we get it from?'' he asked. The dog seemed to know his humans discussed him. He turned around to Mal, black eyes in an inky face. 
 
 
 
 `` Aunt Lucy gave him to us when she got too ill to look after him,'' Leslie said. She set the spam sandwich down in front of Mal, who considered it the same way most people consider tooth extractions. Mal had long since come to terms with his mum's cooking, the same way he'd come to terms with the cats following Bonnie around and the birds that sat outside his window and heralded his every movement. 
 
 
 
 `` Yep,'' Bonnie agreed. He grinned at his twin. In his smile, Mal saw something he could n't name but knew he did n't like. The dog licked his brother's hand, then turned round to Mal. The corner of his lip lifted, and the dog very definitely *snarled. * 
 
 
 
 `` It does n't like me!'' Mal said. 
 
 
 
 `` It's probably because you misbehave,'' Leslie said. She looked at the clock. Oliver would be home soon and the flan was n't even in the oven yet. `` Why do n't you try and be more like your brother?'' 
 
 
 
 Bonnie stroked the dog's head and nodded. `` More like me,'' he agreed. `` Is n't it nice when we all agree?'' Something old resounded in his voice, and the clock struck six.
