Midnight (10 page)

‘Sure,' I said, though I'd never done any of that myself.

‘But I've never been serious about any of them,' said Jasmine. ‘You can't
talk
to them, not the way
we
talk.' She smiled at me.

I smiled back, my heart thudding joyfully. It was as if
we'd been best friends for years instead of twenty-four hours. Jasmine was marginally more suitably dressed today in a little grey vesty top and a tiny green skirt that showed a lot of her lovely long legs, but Mrs Mason shuddered when she saw her and called her up to her desk for a lecture on appropriate school attire.

‘I should think so too,' said Marnie, sniffing. ‘Honestly, you can practically see her knickers. I'd die rather than go out dressed like that. What were you
doing
, letting her hang round you all yesterday? I mean, I know she's new, but you don't have to get stuck with her. Terry thinks you
like
her, but you don't really, do you?'

‘I like her ever so much, Marnie,' I said.

‘But she's so full of herself,' said Marnie, pulling a silly face. ‘She thinks she's
it
.'

‘I think she
is
it,' I said.

‘Shut up,' said Marnie. ‘You're acting like you've got some kind of pervy crush on her.'

‘You shut up,' I said. ‘You don't understand.'

‘Maybe I don't want to,' said Marnie. ‘Oh well. Suit yourself. You go round with whoever you want.'

‘OK. I will,' I said.

Marnie marched off to join Terry. They whispered together, glaring over at me, then tossing their heads at Jasmine.

I knew that was it as far as Marnie and Terry were concerned. They felt they'd only been friends with me under sufferance. They certainly wouldn't want to go round with me any more. But what did I care? I had Jasmine.

I knew she wasn't going to be at school long. It would be lonelier than ever after she'd gone. But I couldn't bother about that now. I had to make the most of what I'd got.

Mrs Mason finally got through lecturing Jasmine and let her go.

‘Dear God,' Jasmine muttered. ‘So what shall I wear tomorrow that will
really
wind her up? Oh, I know! Jonathan was once in this hilarious schoolgirl spoof set in the nineteen twenties, and he purloined some of the costumes on the last night, just for a laugh. I
think
we've still got one of the schoolgirl outfits. Oh, what bliss to come to school in a real gym tunic with black stockings and one of those black girdle thingies.'

‘Jasmine Day, the Naughtiest Girl in the School,' I said.

‘Come round tonight, eh? We'll work on my costume together,' said Jasmine.

‘I want to – but I'm not sure I
can
,' I said, feeling awful. ‘I got into trouble last night from being so late back.'

‘But you weren't late. It was only about eight o'clock.'

‘Jasmine, there's a drama at home if I'm ten
minutes
late.'

‘Well, can I come round to your house then?'

Oh God. It had been bad enough with Marnie and Terry. I cared so much more what Jasmine thought. How would she react to my childish bedroom and all my fairies? I could always hide them away in a cupboard before she came, but without them my bedroom lost all
its point. It would just be a shabby girly bedroom with faded flowery curtains, Blu-tack blotches on the walls and a sad teddy bear slouching on my windowsill.

‘I'd love you to come, Jasmine, but my mum's a bit odd about me bringing friends back,' I lied.

Jasmine nodded, but she looked a little reproachful.

‘I'll work on it though,' I said.

‘What about your brother? Doesn't he have friends round?' she asked.

‘Will's pretty anti-social at the moment. I'm sorry, my family's kind of weird.'

‘I
like
weird,' said Jasmine. ‘I like you, Violet.'

She really
did
seem to like me. I could say any odd thing that came into my head and she didn't back away, shaking her head, indicating I was nuts. She'd smile and act like she was really interested. I dared tell her some of my old childhood games – the tiny plasticine family I'd kept in a shoe box and carted around everywhere, the plastic mermaids I'd set swimming in a goldfish bowl, the ghost girl I was sure lived in the back of my wardrobe.

‘I wish we'd known each other then. I'd have given anything to play those sort of games,' said Jasmine. ‘Did you play them by yourself?'

‘I played them with Will,' I said.

When he was in the right mood the little plasticine people trekked the grassy jungle of the back garden, the mermaids frolicked in the ocean with great golden whales, and the ghost girl took hold of my hand with her phantom fingers and led me into her shadowland.

‘You are
so
lucky to have a brother,' said Jasmine.

But when Will was in the wrong mood he pressed my plasticine people together, mashing them into one fat pink blob, he sent my mermaids swimming out of sight right down the lavatory pan and he shut me up in the dark wardrobe with the ghost girl and locked the door.

‘I don't think you understand what brothers can be like sometimes,' I said. ‘Especially
my
brother.'

‘Yeah, well, let me meet him,' she said. ‘Come on, let's go and find him at dinner time.'

‘He just slopes off by himself. I'm not allowed to talk to him, not at school,' I said.

‘What do you mean, you're not allowed? The teachers don't let you?'

‘No. Will won't let me,' I muttered.

Jasmine laughed. ‘And you do what he says, right?'

‘Will can be a bit . . . odd sometimes. If you don't do what he says then you always end up regretting it.'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘We'll have to see about that,' she said.

My heart started beating fast. I knew she didn't understand. I didn't want her to get hurt.

‘Don't look so worried, Vi,' said Jasmine, giving my school plait a tiny tug. ‘Hey, will you plait my hair like that? Silly old Mrs Mason told me I have to have my hair tied back too. Will you be a darling and do it for me?'

‘Of course,' I said. ‘Have you got your silver hairbrush?'

‘Not on me. Haven't you got one?'

‘Yes, but it's a bit scrubby. Don't you mind?'

‘Why should I? We're best friends. Your brush, my brush – your nits, my nits.'

‘I haven't got nits!'

‘Neither have I, silly. Come on, do my hair for me, please.'

I brushed her beautiful long golden waves. It felt so warm, so silky, so fine, compared with my thick coarse hair. My fingers were clumsy as I fiddled with each strand of plait. I was desperate to style it properly and please her.

I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to fob her off about visiting me at home. Though perhaps I didn't need to worry. Will would lock himself up in his bedroom all the time she was there. Of course he would.

Dear C.D.,

I wonder how many times I've looked at your books? And yet each time I pore over a picture I see something different.

Mum doesn't like them. She'd never look at them with me even when I was a little girl. She said the colours were too pale, too grey, too bleak. She doesn't like the trees with their gnarled faces and long twisted roots. She thinks the warty old witches and the pop-eyed ogres and the fire-breathing dragons and slithering serpents are too frightening for a child's book.

‘Don't blame me if they give you nightmares,' she said.

They did give me nightmares, but I didn't care.

One time I went barging into my bedroom and Mum was sitting on my bed, your book open on her lap. She looked startled, jumped up, and started dusting, her back to me. But I'd already seen the tears running down her cheeks.

I couldn't work out why.

With love from

Violet

XXX

WE WERE GOING
to spend all of Saturday together, Jasmine and I. I loved saying those three words. Jasmine-and-I. It was as if we were permanently hyphenated together, Siamese soul-sisters.

Jasmine told me to come over to her flat as early as possible on Saturday morning.

‘Can you be there by ten? And stay for lunch and supper too, please please please. We'll do whatever you like, Violet. We don't have to stay in. You can show me all the good shops in town or we can even have a day up in London, wherever. I'll pay, I've got loads of cash. It's guilt money – Miranda's started sending me wads of cash and Jonathan's been pretty generous recently too. Still, he's doing well with
San Francisco
, they're extending the run for a whole season – isn't that
fabulous! It means I can stay for three months, maybe even more.'

‘Maybe it'll be like that Agatha Christie play that ran for fifty years?'

‘Yeah, right, so we'll be best friends all our teenage years and go to college together and get a flat and compare notes on our boyfriends—'

‘But we won't ever live with any of them, and we absolutely definitely won't get married.'

‘Absolutely definitely. Marriage sucks,' said Jasmine. ‘You're so lucky, your mum and dad staying together.'

‘Yes, but they don't get on. It only works because Mum gives in to Dad all the time. Jasmine . . . can't we stay friends after you move away? We could text each other and e-mail and maybe see each other some weekends?' My voice went a bit wobbly. I didn't want to sound too keen, too needy. But Jasmine smiled radiantly, her eyes bright blue.

‘Will you
really
keep in touch? All the girls I've gone round with promise they'll stay friends. They write back to me once or twice but then they just fade out of the picture.'

‘I won't fade. I shall stay shining in the corner.'

‘There's this hymn my granny used to sing, about a little candle burning bright, and it ends, “You in your small corner, and I in mine.” I loved my gran so much. She looked after me when I was a baby, and then I stayed with her for a bit when Jonathan and Miranda first split up. She sat me on her lap and cuddled me and called me her little bunny. She was so
lovely lovely lovely. I'd give anything to have her back. She died a year ago and I wept for a whole week.' There were tears in her eyes now, and one spilled down her cheek. I gently wiped it away with the cuff of my cardigan.

‘Thanks, Violet. Is your gran still alive?'

‘Yes. But I wish she was dead,' I said.

Jasmine blinked at me. More tears spilled but she wiped them away herself. ‘
What?
'

‘I know it's wicked but I can't help it. Don't be shocked.'

‘Why do you hate her?'

‘She was the one who told Will he was adopted. I
told
you.'

‘I wonder why they adopted him?'

‘I don't know. I mean, they can obviously have their own children because they had me.'

‘Maybe they thought they couldn't. You came along like a little surprise later on.'

‘Maybe.' I gave a little shiver.

Jasmine laughed. ‘You're thinking about them doing it, aren't you?'

‘Jasmine! Yes, I
was
. How do you know everything about me? I mean, I've been friends with Marnie and Terry for ages but they don't have a clue.'

‘Yeah, well. They're not your best friend. I am. And it's all fixed for us to spend the whole of Saturday together, yes?'

‘Yes,' I said, though I thought I'd have great trouble sorting it out. I usually did a big shop with Mum on
Saturday morning. She liked to finish off with a slice of cake and a cup of tea in Marks and Spencer's café and she'd smile at me eagerly and say, ‘Isn't this fun?' It wasn't my idea of fun but I acted like I was really enjoying myself because I didn't want to hurt her feelings.