Midnight Read online

  ‘With long blonde hair,’ I said, sighing.

  ‘That’s right. You know so much about me, Violet. I sent her The Smoky Fairy. I wrote it in my teens, while I was still working at the newsagent’s. I sent it to so many publishers and they all turned it down. This went on for years. I got so depressed. I felt I’d never ever achieve my dream, but then Olivia saw the manuscript, liked the artwork, asked if we could meet . . . And later, when there was all the fuss and the book had to be withdrawn she still had enough faith in me to commission a new book. Now my whole life’s changed and I still can’t quite believe it. I don’t want to be part of the whole arty literary scene. I’d hate that. And I don’t look the part, obviously. So I don’t want fame – and I’m not that fussed about the fortune either, though it’s lovely to live in a house I like and I can fill it with beautiful things. But the most magical thing of all is being able to work all day creating my own fairy worlds.

  ‘I like to come here and remember just for a minute what it was like before. I’m so grateful now that I lived in this ugly house and was always the odd one out because that made me invent my own world of tiny beautiful beings. There we are, here’s your fairy.’

  He’d drawn the Violet Fairy so beautifully, adding long dark hair just like mine.

  To violet, my number one fan.

  I’m so glad we met.

  Make a wish at midnight!

  With all good wishes from Casper Dream

  ‘I shall make a wish,’ I said.

  ‘Do you like art too?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t really draw much. I sew.’

  ‘What do you sew?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘I sew fairies. Your fairies.’ I scrabbled in my pocket and brought out the torn Crow Fairy.

  ‘Oh my goodness, she’s wonderful! She’s exactly right. There are some Casper Dream fairy doll things but I hate them.’

  ‘I hate them too. You can have the Crow Fairy if you like, though her leg’s coming off – and some of her hair’s missing. I got mad about something and tore down all my fairies.’

  ‘I would like the Crow Fairy very much. She’s exquisite. But do you know what I think you should do, Violet? I think you should invent your own creatures. You’re so skilled. Create your own dreamworld. I wanted a very small world because I’m so big. You’re so small, maybe you might want to create large things. Think big and beautiful!’

  I thought about it all the way home. Casper Dream had his chauffeur drive me to the railway station. I negotiated my way home again, making all the train changes, tucking my picture of the Violet Fairy very carefully into my pocket so that it wouldn’t get crumpled.

  Then I walked home from the station. Dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway so at least I was back before them. I felt sick at the thought of seeing Will. What would I do if Jasmine was still there? I had to knock at the door because I didn’t have my key.

  Will opened it – and then he put his arms round me and hugged me hard.

  ‘I thought you’d never come back. I didn’t know what to do. I even thought about phoning Mum and Dad. I was so worried. I thought you’d be back in a few minutes. So did Jasmine. She waited for hours but then she had to go home. She feels terrible. She thinks it’s all her fault. But it’s my fault, I know. It’s always my fault. I don’t know why I’m so mean to you. Something just makes me. Maybe the old granny bat is right, it’s bad blood.’

  ‘That’s rubbish,’ I said, hugging him back. ‘Look, I know why Mum and Dad have always been so weird with you, why they sometimes act like you’re the wrong boy, the changeling. There was another William once, their first baby. He died when he was little. They shouldn’t have adopted you – it wasn’t fair, trying to replace him like that, but I’m so glad they did because you’re my brother now.’

  ‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Will asked, still holding me.

  ‘Come up to the loft and I’ll show you.’

  We climbed up there and looked at the baby things together. Will was silent when he saw the photos.

  ‘I wonder if I looked like him when I was a baby? Maybe the dark hair?’ Will peered at the last photo of the little dead baby and shuddered. ‘Let’s put all these baby things back in the box.’

  ‘It’s awful, it’s like poor little baby Will’s coffin.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll find a little blue pot of his ashes somewhere?’

  ‘Shut up, Will!’

  But we were fine together in the attic. It only started to get awkward when we came down the stairs. We both glanced involuntarily along the landing to Will’s bedroom.

  ‘So is Jasmine your girlfriend now?’ I asked.

  ‘I – I don’t know. She wants to be your friend. Come on, give her a ring to let her know you’re back safely.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Violet, she’s desperately worried.’

  ‘Then you ring her.’

  Will dialled the number, but then he held the phone out to me, pressing it against my ear.

  ‘Hello? Violet? Is that you? Oh please, please let it be you!’ Jasmine said, her voice thick, as if she was crying.

  ‘It’s me,’ I whispered.

  ‘Are you all right? Are you back home? Oh Violet, please say we’re still friends.’

  ‘You don’t really want to be my friend. You just wanted to get to know Will,’ I said.

  ‘That’s not true. Well, I did want to get to know Will, but I wanted to be your friend before that. Don’t you remember? In the classroom, that first day? I practically begged you to be my friend and I didn’t even know you had a brother then.’

  I thought back.

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Jasmine persisted. ‘I wanted you to be my friend because you looked so different from the others, and you were so sweet to me, and we just kind of clicked, as if we’d known each other for always. And now I’ve mucked it all up, haven’t I?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘No you haven’t. We’re still friends,’ I said.

  ‘Best friends?’

  ‘Best friends, no matter what,’ I said, and then I put the phone down.

  Will had gone into the kitchen and was wolfing down the remains of the picnic. I stuffed cheese and prawns and bread and grapes into my mouth too, suddenly ravenous.

  When we’d eaten every morsel and were feeling so stuffed we couldn’t move we heard the car draw up outside. Mum and Dad came in, looking pink and windswept. They’d walked for miles along the seafront after visiting Gran. Mum was lugging a huge carrier of Chinese takeaway food.

  ‘I felt so bad about leaving you two without a proper cooked meal,’ she said.

  ‘I told you they’d be fine,’ said Dad. ‘You are fine, aren’t you, you awkward little tykes?’ He looked at us both. ‘Look, those things I said. Forget it. I got a bit worked up. We’ll let bygones be bygones. Come on, let’s all start noshing.’

  Will managed a plateful but I couldn’t eat more than a mouthful.

  ‘There’s seaweed and prawns, your favourites, Violet. Why aren’t you eating?’ said Mum. ‘Is there something wrong, dear?’

  ‘Well . . .’ I hesitated. And then I couldn’t stop myself. ‘Yes, there is something wrong. I was looking in the attic for something—’

  ‘Don’t!’ said Will.

  ‘You’re not allowed in the attic, you know that,’ Dad said.

  ‘Yes, but the thing is, I found . . . I found all the stuff about baby Will.’

  Mum and Dad stopped eating. It was just like magic, as if I’d turned them into statues. Their hands were holding their knives and forks, their mouths were open. Will rocked on his chair, his face screwed up.

  ‘Shut up, Violet,’ he muttered.

  ‘No. We’ve all shut up for far too long. Why can’t we talk about him?’

  ‘Because it’ll upset your mother,’ said Dad furiously, throwing his cutlery down on his plate with a clatter.

  Mum shook her head, as if she was coming out of a trance. ‘It’s all right,’ s