Midnight Read online

  Dad sighed, and then reached out and patted my hand. ‘I think you’re away with the fairies half the time, Violet. You’re such a dreamy girl. Still, it’s good for you that you’ve got this Jasmine. Your mother and I have been worried about you not having any friends. I know you went around with those little dumpy girls but you didn’t seem that happy in their company.’

  ‘I’m not friends with them any more. I just want to be friends with Jasmine.’

  ‘Well, I should be a bit cautious. Strikes me it’s best to have lots of friends. Then if one or t’other lets you down you’ve always got half a dozen other mates. Like all my lads at work or the Masons or the guys at the golf club.’ Dad smiled smugly as he showed off his own popularity. ‘Still, this friendship with Jasmine is a start. You need to branch out more. You don’t want to moulder at home and just tag after Will.’

  I glanced at Dad. He was staring straight ahead, watching the road.

  ‘Don’t you want Will and me to be friends, Dad?’ I said softly.

  He didn’t answer, humming along to some old pop tune on Radio 2. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. Maybe he was pretending he hadn’t heard me.

  ‘Of course I want you two to get on together,’ Dad suddenly blurted out. ‘It’s just I don’t like the way Will bosses you about and encourages you to join in all his silly games.’

  ‘What games?’ I said, a pulse beating in my forehead. Ghostly bats flew straight in my face.

  ‘Silly looks, sighs, dumb insolence, all that nonsense,’ said Dad.

  I breathed out slowly. ‘He’s going through a stage,’ I said.

  ‘He’s always been in some bloody stage,’ said Dad, through clenched teeth.

  ‘Why don’t you like him, Dad?’ I said.

  ‘What? What do you mean? Of course I like him. He’s my son.’

  ‘Is it because he’s adopted?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Violet, don’t start all that. And don’t you dare bring this up with your mother. She scarcely slept for weeks after my bloody mother let the cat out of the bag.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell Will before? It must have been so awful for him finding out like that.’

  ‘He was the one acting awful as far as I remember, refusing to say thank you for his present. Wasn’t that how it all started, Will being bloody-minded and selfish, as always? I know your gran winds people up. Dear God, she winds me up enough. But Will didn’t have to be downright rude to her. What was it he said? Smelly old bag? How dare he!’

  ‘I know he was rude. But I just don’t understand. How could you and Mum keep it a secret all these years?’

  ‘It wasn’t really a secret, as such. We were going to tell him as soon as he was old enough to understand. But by that time – well, your mother thought of him as her son and it would have been so painful for her. She wasn’t well, not for a long time, after—’ Dad swerved suddenly to avoid a bike. ‘Good God, where did he come from? Look, Violet, I don’t want to talk about it any more, especially not when I’m driving. I don’t want to kill us both.’

  ‘But Dad—’

  ‘The subject’s closed!’ Dad said sharply.

  We didn’t say another word until we got to Jasmine’s flat.

  Dear C.D.,

  I wonder what you were like when you were a little boy? I know you must have loved drawing right from when you could first hold a pencil. Did your parents encourage you? I wonder about your father – maybe he wouldn’t have liked seeing you hunched up over a drawing pad, creating your own private fairy world? Did he nag you to go out and play football like the other little boys?

  He must be so proud of you now though.

  With love from

  Violet

  XXX

  From The Book of Fairy Poetry by Casper Dream

  The Elf King

  The king of elfs, and the little fairy queen

  Gamboll’d on heaths, and danc’d on every green.

  Nine

  JASMINE CAME TO the door in a velvet patchwork dressing gown and threw her arms round me in delighted surprise.

  ‘How lovely you’re here so early. We’re still having breakfast. Come and have some.’

  I had a second breakfast with Jasmine and Jonathan. He was so different from my dad, from anyone else’s dad. He was this cool thin fantastic guy with longish tousled fair hair, in jeans and a grey T-shirt. Will’s kind of clothes, but less rumpled and saggy, probably an expensive designer version. There was nothing remotely saggy about Jonathan. His T-shirt was tight fitting, with very short sleeves, showing off his carefully toned muscles and flat stomach.

  ‘Hi, Violet. Wonderful name!’ he said, as if I was wonderful too. ‘I’ve heard so much about you already. You and Jasmine are obviously great friends.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ I said happily.

  ‘She’s a lovely girl, my daughter, isn’t she?’ said Jonathan.

  ‘Dad!’ said Jasmine, rolling her eyes. ‘Shut up!’

  Jonathan didn’t seem to mind at all. He just pulled a funny face, miming zipping his mouth – though he talked non stop throughout breakfast. He told some slightly silly joke and I laughed obediently, but Jasmine put her head on one side and said, ‘Come again, Dad? That’s meant to be funny ?’ Jonathan pretended to be upset, hanging his head, and Jasmine laughed and ruffled his fair hair, calling him a poor old love.

  She talked a lot too, telling him all about school, going on about Marnie and Terry, and she swore, a real fourletter word, but Jonathan didn’t turn a hair. I imagined telling my dad to shut up, ticking him off for making stupid jokes, ruffling his hair, swearing straight in his face. It was impossible. I simply wouldn’t dare.

  I didn’t dare say much to Jonathan either because I was so shy. He was very patient, asking me stuff about my family. I answered monosyllabically and he tactfully changed the subject. He talked about me instead, asking me what I liked to do most.

  ‘I sew,’ I said. I’d sewn Jasmine a present but I felt too shy to give it to her straight away, especially in front of her father.

  ‘What sort of sewing? My girlfriend Georgia does tapestry.’

  ‘I just sew . . . small stuff. And I look at books a lot.’

  ‘Fantastic! I hope you turn my Jas into a bookworm, Violet. She’s a shocker. I’d read all of Shakespeare and most of Dickens when I was her age but she can barely stagger through Harry Potter. What’s your favourite book, Violet? You look like a girl who’d like a little gothic passion. Have you read Jane Eyre?’

  I had read Jane Eyre, and loved it too, but I didn’t want to say so in case it looked as if I was ganging up on Jasmine. She didn’t seem to mind particularly.

  ‘You’re just trying to impress Violet, Dad. I bet you haven’t read Jane Eyre. You’ve just read the stupid telly script.’

  ‘It was an excellent script and I was a superbly sexy Rochester,’ said Jonathan, striking a dark and glowering pose.

  ‘You, sexy, Dad?’ said Jasmine laughing. ‘Not with your hair dyed black and those ridiculous tight breeches.’

  ‘I was sexy with nobs on, saucebox,’ said Jonathan. ‘The girls playing Jane Eyre and Blanche Ingram thought so. I had my work cut out keeping them both happy.’

  ‘Oh God, we’re boasting now,’ said Jasmine, pouring me another cup of coffee from the cafetière.

  We had Nescafé at home, with Gold Blend for visitors, and breakfast was cornflakes and toast. Jasmine and Jonathan had croissants and pink grapefruit juice and a bowl of cherries. I ate them too, savouring each mouthful, wishing I could be part of their family for ever.

  Then Jonathan started reading the Stage newspaper and Jasmine took my hand and led me off to her room. When we were on our own I took a deep breath and then produced her present from my jacket pocket.

  ‘A present!’ said Jasmine, clasping the little pink tissue parcel and untying the green silk ribbon.

  ‘Don’t get too excited. It’s nothing much. You’ll probably think it’s stupid,’ I said anxiously. I wanted to sn