Free Forget Me Not (The Ceruleans: Book 2) by Megan Tayte Page B

‘You and Sienna
in that meadow behind the house. You girls loved chasing about among the
wildflowers there. Do you remember? The daisies and the buttercups and the
forget-me-nots. I used to lean on the gate and watch you. You were so carefree,
so innocent, my little red girls.’
    There was wistfulness in her voice, but so much affection
too, and not a hint of bitterness or self-pity. I didn’t trust it, this
difference in her. I decided to test it.
    ‘Mother, these past few weeks in rehab…’
    I heard her sharp intake of breath; could feel how much she
wanted to correct me: I was at a retreat. But she said only, ‘Yes?’
    ‘Was that the first time?’
    Silence. Then: ‘No, Scarlett.’
    ‘I remember when I was little, the paramedics took you
away…’
    It was a lie. But I needed her to tell me what she had done.
What Sienna had done.
    ‘Oh, Scarlett,’ she said. ‘You remember that? I was… sad.
Very, very sad. I didn’t handle the sadness well. The doctor had me on a
cocktail of tablets. Antidepressants. Sleeping pills. I drank too much. It made
me unwell. I made me unwell. They told me, afterwards, that you and your
sister found me. In my room. Oh God – no child should see that. It was Sienna
who called for help. I knew she remembered; she never forgave me for it. But you
were so small, only four. I had no idea you’d been carrying that around with
you since.’
    Had I? Nothing she said, nothing Sienna wrote, stirred a
memory. But weeks ago, something had happened that made me wonder how much of
the fear and horror was in me still, buried deep. When I’d gone to see my
mother and found the house shut up and deserted, I’d been quick to panic, to
imagine that she’d followed in Sienna’s footsteps. Suicide.
    ‘It was an accident,’ she said. ‘I was stupid, but I didn’t
mean to overdose.’
    I could hear raw agony in her voice. In my mind I saw Sienna
running into a furious ocean. She hadn’t mentioned our mother once in her
diary. How much of the staging of her suicide was calculated to hurt the woman
she’d never forgiven for nearly, so nearly, leaving us?
    Mother said, ‘I don’t expect you to just believe me,
Scarlett. That something has changed. That I’m myself again, at last. It will
take time, I know, for you to trust me.’
    But I have no time, I thought, and that hurt.
Everything hurt.
    ‘I know you want your space,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to
crowd you. But perhaps you’ll come and see me one day, when you’re ready? And
we can talk. There are things I want to tell you, things I should have told you
long ago. I’d like to now. I’d like to start over.’
    On the mantelpiece, my sister watched me from a photo frame.
Beside her, so did my grandfather and grandmother. Family loyalty, Sienna had written.
    ‘Okay,’ I whispered.
    ‘Okay? Good! Wonderful!’
    There was a brief silence. Then:
    ‘So, what’s new with you?’ Subtext: Shall we have a stab
at a normal conversation, Scarlett?
    ‘Nothing much.’ Subtext: I’d rather not.
    ‘Are you well?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And that boy, Luke, are you still seeing him?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And are you –?’
    ‘I have to go now. It’s late. I’m tired.’
    ‘I understand. It was so good to talk to you. Thank you –
thank you for answering.’
    ‘Okay.’
    ‘Love you, Scarlett.’
    ‘Love you too, Mother.’
    ‘Just one thing, before you go. The memory, from when you
were small. When I was unwell. You have to know, Scarlett, that what your
sister did – I would never… I will never leave you. ’
    ‘I know,’ I said, and I hung up. Because I knew what she was
trying to say, and I couldn’t hear it. It was the most solemn promise she could
make me, and I couldn’t join her in that pact.
    The diary on the chair arm waited expectantly. ‘Tomorrow,’ I
told it. Then I went up to bed, and dreamed of overdosing on tequila and
sleeping tablets.

15: SERVIAM
     
    Jude caught me talking with Daniel. Jesus H. was he