‘And Daisy . . .’ Nana said, as we heard the sound of people arriving at the front door.
‘Yes, Nana?’
‘Best to leave the scissors in the drawer this family birthday.’
She knew. Nana knew that it was me who cut off Lily’s hair, but she had never said anything about it before. I’ve no idea what my face did – I’ve never had much control over the expressions it pulls – but the rest of me froze.
Nana smiled. ‘I’ll always keep your secrets, my darling girl. And you’ll always be my favourite. You just have to prove all those doctors wrong for me. As for your sisters . . . Albert Einstein once said that weak people revenge, strong people forgive, and intelligent people ignore. It was one of the few things he was wrong about. Success is the best revenge. Try to remember that.’
Before she could say any more on the subject, a small but perfectly formed group of fifteen-and sixteen-year-olds arrived at Seaglass. They had been shepherded across the causeway like lost sheep by Rose before the tide came in. Every one of them was dressed to impress. The only teenager I recognized amongst them was Conor, doing a not bad impression of Tom Cruise in Top Gun. He wore aviator sunglasses indoors even when it got dark, so was constantly bumping into things and people, but he thought he looked cool.
I was allowed to stay downstairs until Rose blew out the sixteen candles on her birthday cake. Nancy, with a lot of help from Nana, had created a magic-looking Malteser cake, which looked like the bag of chocolates was hovering in mid-air. The number sixteen was spelled in chocolate balls too. It really was very impressive. When the bowls were all cleared away, Rose started opening her presents, surrounded by friends and people who loved her. My mother gave her a beautiful pale blue designer dress, and I felt the jealousy growing inside me until it hurt. But I wasn’t the only one. Lily looked at that dress as though it should have been hers, which might be why Rose immediately put it away in her wardrobe upstairs. When Rose opened Nana’s present – the bronze, silver and gold ring that Rose still wears today – I remember how hard it was not to cry. The ring was so beautiful, just like my sister. I wished it was mine.
‘Time for bed now, Daisy,’ my mother said in front of everyone, and I hated her a little bit. I didn’t feel like a child, even though I was one, and I didn’t like the way she spoke to me in front of everyone else. I was old enough by then to notice that my mother always wanted to hide me away from the world, as though I were something to be ashamed of. At least that’s how it felt.
Ten-year-old me did go upstairs, but I didn’t go to bed as instructed.
Instead I sneaked into my sisters’ bedroom, while everyone else was having too much fun downstairs to realize. I opened their wardrobe and found the pale blue dress my mother had given Rose for her birthday. The tags were still attached. I didn’t care that it didn’t belong to me, or that it was several sizes too big. I was sick of wearing hand-me-downs that were years old and faded from being washed too many times. I put the dress on and admired my own reflection.
Disappointed by what I saw, I borrowed one of Lily’s bras, stuffed it with socks, and pulled the dress over my head again. I looked better, even if one fake boob was bigger and higher than the other. Next I stole a pair of shoes, kitten heels that were too big and impossible to walk in, but that didn’t bother me. I never knew my shoe size as a child because I always just wore the shoes Rose and Lily had grown out of.
I borrowed some of my sisters’ make-up. Applying it wasn’t something I was good at – having never been shown – but I’d give myself an A for effort. Then I backcombed my hair. I’m still not sure why anyone ever thought this looked good, but in 1986, big hair was cool. I sprayed a can of hairspray all over the creature on top of my head until I made myself cough, and admired the finished result in the mirror. My face was a shock of pink lipstick and blue eyeshadow, my hair looked as though I had stuck my fingers in a socket, but the blue dress was beautiful, and I liked what I saw.
Not sure what to do next, but still in the mood to do things I knew I shouldn’t, I opened Rose’s diary, which she kept by her bed. I understood that what she wrote inside was private, but I wanted to know everything about the lives that my sisters got to lead. I found one of Rose’s ‘Hush’ poems scribbled on a scrap of paper, hidden between the pages, and I sang it out loud.
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird does scream,