FOR most people, the discovery that they were having twins would come as something of a shock. But the Taylor family, of Billingham, Teesside, not only had this to contend with, but also the fact that one of their newborn daughters showed worrying signs.

As Beryl Taylor lay in her hospital bed, a consultant asked if she had noticed the older twin Helen's webbed toes and floppiness. Like any new mother, she had scrutinised both babies, but unwilling to face her worst fears, told him to speak to her husband.

Now, on the eve of the twins' 19th birthdays, Colin and Beryl Taylor speak matter-of-factly about those first tumultuous weeks. As a member of ICI's safety committee, Colin, 56, had often visited local special schools, where he had come into contact with Down's Syndrome children.

Smiling at Helen, his voice takes on an affectionate tone as he describes first seeing her 'little monkey face' - his description of the facial features common to the condition.

"The difficult part of that first day or two was ringing everyone up to say we had twin girls, then ringing them up again to say Helen had Down's Syndrome," he says. "That initial shock and worry was the same for us as all parents. It was about trying to find help."

Over the past 13 years, of the 7,600 babies recorded as being born with Down's Syndrome, only 193 have been part of multiple births. While this must have made the Taylors feel doubly isolated, they simply got on with bringing their daughters up, learning as they went.

They are full of praise for most of the medical staff they dealt with, but were shocked by the ignorance of one health professional. Beryl, 56, says: "The worst experience was when Helen had eye tests when she was about two or three. We went to North Riding Hospital, and the doctor checked both the girls' eyes and said, 'Bring back the mongol'. We just couldn't believe he had said it."

When it came to their daughters' education, the Taylors were adamant that they should stay together, although at that time, it was unusual for Down's Syndrome children to attend mainstream schools. Their first experience with the local primary school highlighted the difficulty of their rare position, and caused them pain which even now, makes Beryl's voice catch as she relates what happened.

"I was told Helen was not there to learn, only socialise, and would not be taken into the school full-time," she says. "I wasn't even allowed to speak to the auxiliary employed to help Helen, and the teacher caused me great heartache. Her last remark to me was that I would be forfeiting Gail's education if I took her out of the school."

The Taylors transferred both girls to Crooksbarn School, in Norton, which their elder son Stuart had attended, and which welcomed them with open arms. When Helen left, a year later than her sister, the school presented her with a photograph album of all her favourite teachers.

With her disability and outgoing personality, Helen tends to attract attention wherever she goes. Gail is naturally more introverted, so is happy to let her sister take the limelight. At school, she admits that Helen was her prop, rather than vice versa, and it is telling that after starting Liverpool University, she has now left, and plans to stay closer to home.

"I decided that I wanted to get away and have a new start, " she says. "On my leaving day, as soon as Helen said she missed me, I burst into tears."

Watching the twins together, their closeness is evident, with Gail frequently stroking her smaller, fairer sister's hair. I wonder if Gail's confidence has suffered for having such a strong character as a companion, but her parents assure me that this is not the case.

If anything, they say, they worry about the girls' brother, who was a shy child and even now, finds it hard to communicate with them.

Gail alludes to her grandmother's different treatment of herself and her sister, in common with many family situations in which one child is the favourite. She laughs about it, but I suspect that this, along with other examples of her sister provoking instant affection while she hung in the background, must have affected her more than she admits.

As many parents of Down's Syndrome children must, Colin and Beryl worry for Helen's future. At the moment, they are fit and active enough to care for and entertain her, with Beryl running a bowling club and helping her daughter gain a Millennium Volunteer award.

But Colin says: "In five or six years' time, if we are both dead or physically can't manage, who will look after Helen? We are reluctant to palm her off onto her sister or brother. We just hope that she will have enough learning and ability to look after herself."

While they have had their share of hard times and embarrassing moments - such as the time when Helen set fire to the kitchen then rang the fire brigade - the Taylors believe that having a Down's Syndrome child has enriched their lives. They have found kindness in many people, including a Catholic nun who helped them regardless of their religion, and received excellent support from the North-East branch of the Down's Syndrome Association, now the independent charity Down's Syndrome North-East.

Beryl says: "Helen has taught us to laugh - to see life differently. We are learning every day and we are moving forward."