Daisy Darker(90)

‘You can and you must. I believe that telling your own story, the truth about what happened, might set you free. I wish I could be here to help you, but that palm reader in Land’s End was right.’

‘I don’t understand—’

‘Your mother was always the only one to take sugar in her tea; the poison I used to kill her was in the bowl. It seems to have worked more quickly on me. I just had to see you again, and I knew this was the only way to do it. I’m so sorry I didn’t do more to protect you from this awful family when you were a child. I know I let you down. But everything I did tonight, I did for you. Forgive me, and take care of each other, my darling girls. You are the only good future this family ever had.’

‘Don’t go,’ I say, holding her hand. ‘Don’t leave me again. Not yet.’

It feels like I’m falling once more.

‘I’ll always be here,’ she says, gently putting her other hand over my heart. ‘The people who truly love us never leave us. And you were never broken. In my eyes, you were always perfect. I love you from here to the moon and back three times and once for luck.’

‘I love you too,’ I whisper, new tears streaming down my face.

Nana smiles at me one last time before resting her head on the kitchen table. She closes her eyes, and I know she has gone. Poppins starts to whimper, and the ocean continues to serenade every unsettled thought inside my mind, as though trying to silence them with the relentless shh of the sea.





Fifty



31 October 6:55 a.m.

low tide

The tap of grief never turns off completely. It allows a person’s sorrow to slowly drip inside them until they are so unbearably full of sadness, they have no choice but to let it flow freely and pour out. Drowning every other thought and feeling.

‘She’s dead,’ says Trixie with tears in her eyes. ‘Why would she do this?’

The eighty clocks out in the hallway seem to tick more loudly than ever before.

‘Because it was her time,’ I say. ‘I think she always planned to take her own life when it was over. She could never live with what she had done. I understand why she did what she did now, but I still don’t know why you went along with it.’

Trixie sits down at the table, on her little chair covered in stars, and she looks so small to me again. Like the child she used to be, not the woman she is growing into.

‘Do you remember what it was like when they all realized that you were broken?’ Trixie asks in a quiet voice. ‘The way they treated you? Well, it was the same for me. My mother stopped letting me go out with my friends, wrapped me up in cotton wool, and every time she looked at me, all I could see in her eyes was pity and resentment. Not love. My mother and Nancy didn’t think anyone else should know about my heart condition – as though it were a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of. They didn’t even want the rest of the family to know. Let’s be honest, they really were horrible people. All of them. Look what they did to you.’

‘They all thought I wouldn’t live beyond fifteen.’

‘Your mother knew that you might, if she’d let that doctor try to help you. I had the surgery that you didn’t. There were some complications, but the doctors think I might live until I’m twenty now. Twenty-five if I’m lucky. And that’s all I want: to live what is left of my life. I’ll be sixteen soon, I can leave school, I can travel the world. I just want to live while I still can. Surely you must understand that? The only people in this family who ever really loved me were Nana and you. And you’re a ghost. She couldn’t forgive the rest of the family for what they did to you. Neither could I. We killed them so that you and I could both be free. You shouldn’t still be here, it isn’t right. Nana thought your soul might have got trapped because you died on Halloween. That’s why we did it tonight.’

I stare at her, but don’t know what to say.

‘What Nana said was true: you haven’t aged,’ Trixie continues. ‘I know you can’t see your own reflection, but you must be able to see that you’re still wearing the same clothes you did that night? The denim dungaree dress, the stripy rainbow tights, the trainers covered in daisies? You’re still a thirteen-year-old girl. You might be my aunt, but I’m really two years older than you now.’

I can’t process her words anymore. I am trapped inside a nightmare, one in which I’ve been dead for years. Poppins starts to whimper again, and I want to do the same.

‘I might give you some space, take Poppins for a quick walk,’ says Trixie, as though this were a normal day. ‘I can see this is a lot to take in. You should have a think about what Nana said. Her theory about why you’re still here might not be as crazy as it sounds. And if she was right, maybe there is a way for you to leave.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘She thought you should write your own story. Think about it: using your words is the only thing you can still do. Death isn’t like the movies, at least not for you. I’ve never seen you walk through walls or even a door unless someone has opened it first. But you can move Scrabble letters, and books, and type on keyboards.’

Trixie walks out into the hall.

‘Wait!’ I say. ‘Don’t leave me here alone with . . . them!’