Midnight Read online

  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

  From Fairies of the House and Hearthside by Casper Dream

  The Hearth Fairy

  A timid sprite who tries to bring goodwill to the household.

  Eight

  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 u