The Darkest Secret (35 page)

I'm a little miracle. He said it; he called me a little miracle. It's not in my imagination. He
notices
me.

She dances on air down the harbour road. This is the best night of my life, she thinks. I shall remember it forever. This wonderful dinner, and getting dressed up, and he sat me next to him because I'm special. He doesn't see it yet, still thinks I'm too young, but underneath, down where you
know
, he's already noticed. He said I was pretty. He said I was smart. He said I was a miracle…

 

The evening breeze caresses the bare skin on her arms, makes her shiver with pleasure. Everything is perfect. All of it. I see for certain that he doesn't love her. She's everything that is wrong in his life. Wonderful Sean Jackson, tied down by a vampire, having his joy sucked out just so she can feel that she's right.

Her confidence grown, she does what pleases her most, when she is alone: tests out how her own name sounds attached to his. Simone Jackson. Mrs Simone Jackson. Mrs Sean Jackson. I know I'm too young, still, but it's not just a dream. He notices me. He does. He
sees
me.

 

All is quiet at Harbour View, but the lights have been left blazing all over the house to make it look as though it is occupied. Simone makes a stop at the downstairs bathroom mirror, combs out her hair and smooths another drop of glosser on to make it shine. Linda has left a browny-pinky lipstick by the basin; Chanel, she sees from the label. She examines it, likes the colour, smears a little on her lips and sees them bloom fuller, darker, and is pleased. She spends a little time practising her poses. Drops her reflection into three-quarter angle so the hair falls across her eyes and looks up through it, curls the corners of her lips up coquettishly. He will see me, she thinks. He's seen me now, and when she's gone he'll see me again. More and more, until he doesn't remember what there was before me. They think that age gaps are wrong, but they don't know. It's not my fault I was born so late, nor his that he was born so early. Love is love is love, and my love will conquer all.

Time to see to the children. She gives herself one last smile and drops the lipstick into her little evening bag. Linda won't need it. It doesn't suit her the way it suits me. Then she goes to the kitchen and opens the drawer. The pills that Linda used tonight are still in their strip, lying in the fork compartment. She pops out a couple, to be sure, then lifts up the cutlery tray to find the ones she hid beneath. Yes, there they are. Small and white and pointed oval in their little blister pack.

Simone takes them over to the kettle, fetches a bowl and pops them, one by one, into it, crushes them with the handle of a fork. Puts six spoons of sugar in and dissolves it all in a little boiling water. Tastes it. The sugar is strong, but that is good. It masks the bitterness of the medicine. She dilutes the syrup down to drinking consistency in a little glass, washes up the bowl and the fork, wipes down the countertop. Puts the blister pack into the bag with the lipstick. There's a bin on the front she can pop it into on the way back to the restaurant.

 

The annexe is warm with sleeping bodies. Simone tiptoes in, kneels down beside the Jackson twins. They're out for the count, top to toe and lying on their backs. She shakes Ruby by the arm first, then shakes her again. Her eyes roll and she begins to stir. Her forehead is warm and her hair is sticking to it. Never mind, thinks Simone. No need to worry now.

‘Hello, darling,' she whispers. ‘Mummy wanted me to give you your medicine.'

Ruby grizzles and tries to push her away. She lifts the little girl up to a sitting position, puts a hand behind her back. ‘It's all right,' she soothes. ‘Come on, darling, just a little drink.'

Ruby doesn't even open her eyes as the glass touches her lips; just lets the liquid into her mouth and gulps until half of it has gone. Curls straight back up and is asleep again the moment she does so.

She crawls up to the other end of the bed, wakes Coco. I'm sorry, she says, inside her head. Sorry, little girls. But you're making him so very, very unhappy. You won't even know about it. Just drift away and never wake up, and then he will be free. Nothing to tie him to her then. He said so. If it weren't for you…

Coco is easier. She doesn't even protest, just squeezes her eyes shut tighter as she takes the syrup into her mouth. Simone lays her back down and looks for a moment. Caresses her cheek, gently.

‘Night night,' she whispers. ‘Sleep tight.'