Scarlet Wakefield 03 - Kiss In The Dark Read online

  “What happened with your grandmother?” I ask nervously, staring into his face, trying to read it for clues. He looks very tired. His usually caramel skin has that ashy tinge it gets when he’s working too hard and not getting enough sleep.

  “The coppers came and took her off to the police station,” he says wearily. “That solicitor woman went with her. She says she doesn’t think my gran’ll have to do any time. They’ll give her probation, because, you know, she’s really old and no one thinks she’ll re-offend.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I can see your gran going on a mini–crime spree all over Wakefield, terrorizing everyone with her cane. Can’t you?”

  I’m desperately trying to cheer us up with a pathetic attempt at humor, and it does actually make him crack a small smile.

  “I wouldn’t put it past her,” he says wryly. Then he sighs. “Still, if she gets probation, it means that she’ll be coming back here to live.” He nods around him, indicating the cottage. “It’s her home, you know? But I can’t stay with her.”

  I hadn’t thought about this at all.

  “No, you can’t,” I admit reluctantly. “But there’s bound to be somewhere else on the estate you can live. My grandmother said lots of nice things about you to me when you were arrested. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help. Then you can do what you planned—live and work here while you go to college.”

  Jase starts at the local college in Havisham next autumn. He wants to be a landscape gardener, and the careers officer at his school advised him to get an estate management and gardening degree first. He’s really excited about it.

  “I don’t know, Scarlett.” He looks away from me. “I don’t think I can stay at Wakefield. Not after everything that’s gone on here.”

  “But, Jase—”

  “Look, the last thing I want is to tell you this, okay?” he blurts out, his voice cracking with strain. “It’s horrible. I still can’t believe it. But my gran told me … she told me that my—my dad …” He stammers. “Scarlett, look, I can’t think of a good way to say this, right? I’m so sorry. So sorry. But she told me that my dad killed your mum and dad.”

  Thank God I suspected this already, I think, with some small clear part of my mind. I think of all the evidence I found that pointed to Jase’s dad’s involvement in their deaths—the news articles that Taylor and I found, the chipping paint on Dawn’s van, my mom’s pendant. If I hadn’t put these pieces together over the past few weeks, if I didn’t have more than an idea of the truth already, I honestly think I would faint dead away, or go completely stark staring mad.

  Then again, the night is still young.

  I look down at our hands, which are still joined.

  “She didn’t say it was an accident?” I ask in a tiny voice.

  Jase shakes his head.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says again, his lower lip trembling. “She said that was why he didn’t want me seeing you.”

  Finally, he registers the way I’m reacting to this disastrous news.

  “You don’t sound that surprised,” he says, very taken aback. “I thought this would be the worst shock in the world.”

  “I had some idea already,” I admit. “My parents were hit by a white van, for instance, and that old one your mum drives? It’s blue, but you can see where it’s all bashed up that there was white paint underneath.”

  Jase closes his eyes.

  “And the way your dad was toward me,” I continue. “There had to be some deeper reason for that. It never made sense that he was so angry that you and I were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “No, it never did.” Jase squeezes my hands. “It never did.”

  I start crying, very slowly at first. Then Jase’s eyes snap open.

  “Why would he do something like that?” he asks hopelessly. “And why would he stay on here at Wakefield Hall afterward? My gran said that’s what drove him to drink, but for all these years, I’ve been told it was my mum who did that.”

  I sniff, and pull my hands away to wipe my face.

  “Scarlett, I’m so sorry my family has hurt yours so badly,” he says. “I don’t know if anything I can do will ever make it up to you.”

  He hugs me clumsily, our bodies squashing together in the dip of the saggy sofa.

  “Which is why I can’t stay here,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Now that I know it’s true.” He shivers. “To be honest, I didn’t even know whether to believe my gran or not. She’s such a miserable old bag. You wouldn’t believe the stuff she’s thrown at me over the years.”

  Oh yes, I would, I think, remembering all the racist things she’s said to me.

  He takes a deep breath.

  “I’ve been trying to make sense of everything myself,” he says. “I think Mum insisted on taking the van when she left as insurance, in a way. Maybe she did know what my dad had done. She’d never have had the nerve to stand up to him and tell him directly. Taking the van’d have been a sort of round-t he-house way of saying it, making sure he wouldn’t come after her.”

  I nod slowly, thinking of scared, frail Dawn. Jase’s theory makes complete sense.

  “And your grandmother knew too,” I say.

  “Clearly.” He smiles—a smile without any humor whatsoever. “She’s a real charmer, my gran, isn’t she? Didn’t mind what her son had done, or not enough to do a sodding thing about it. It was only when you and I started seeing each other, and my dad went into meltdown, that she lifted a finger. And that was just to save herself.”

  He looks seriously at me.

  “She knocked him down the stairs to keep the house, you know,” he tells me. “It was all about her. She thought if Dad kept going as he was—getting more and more drunk and out of control—your grandma would tell him he had to leave the Hall, and that she’d make my gran go too.”

  “My grandmother would never kick an old lady out of her home,” I say with absolute conviction.

  “What can I say?” Jase shrugs. “I don’t think she would either. But you know the thing about my gran? When you’re as nasty and evil as she is, you judge everyone against yourself. My gran thinks everyone’s like her, and that means she always expects the worst.”

  I nod, recognizing that he’s right.

  “I went to see Lady Wakefield this evening,” Jase says, which makes me pull back and look at him in great surprise. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I had to thank her for getting me a solicitor. She was really nice. She wouldn’t hear of me paying her back for any of it, and said she didn’t blame me for anything. And that there’d be a job for me here as long as I wanted it. You were right there. She’d let me stay on if I wanted.” He hesitates for a moment. “She doesn’t know why my gran did it. No one does but you and me. And the solicitor, but she can’t tell because it’s confidential with her client. Everyone just thinks my dad raised his hand to my gran, and she was defending herself. And then she panicked and got me to try to cover it up. No one knows about Dad and your parents.”

  “Good,” I say quietly.

  Because I’m sure there’s more to find out about my parents’ death. How did my mother’s necklace come into Mr. Barnes’s possession? What’s behind all the hints from Aunt Gwen and Jase’s gran about my mother? Until I solve those mysteries, connect them all together, I’ll be positive that I haven’t found out the whole truth.

  And I don’t want the spotlight on me and my parents while Taylor and I are unraveling the clues.

  Jase closes his eyes again briefly.

  “What’s wrong with us, Scarlett? What did we do to deserve this?”

  “I don’t know,” I say sadly. “It’s so unfair.”

  Jase stands up and tears spring to my eyes once more. He walks over to his gym bag, which is lying on the floor.

  “I have to take off and get my thoughts straight,” he says. “I’m spinning off in circles right now, you know what I mean?”

  I do. I know exactly what he means. But holding on to Jase, being close to him, m
akes me feel like I’m at the center of the circles. Safe. I wish desperately it could be the same for him.

  I jump up and run over to him, reaching up to pull his head down and kiss him. But we’re both so wound up, so confused, so unhappy, that a proper kiss is completely beyond us.

  “Please don’t go,” I whisper into his ear.

  “You know it isn’t about you,” he says gently as he unwraps his arms from me and drops a light kiss on my lips. “You know I love you.”

  Tears blur my eyes and slide down my cheeks.

  “I love you too.”

  But though we’ve said we love each other for the first time, what ought to be the most wonderful moment in our lives actually sounds much more like goodbye.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” Jase says, picking up his bag and heading for the door.

  I nod silently. I sense that if I plead any more, it will only make things worse.

  Jacket zipped up, gloves on, gym bag stowed under the seat of the bike, Jase kisses me once again. My face is wet, and he wipes the tears away with his glove.

  “I don’t know what to say, Scarlett,” he admits hopelessly. “It’s tearing me up to leave you like this.”

  “Just promise me you’ll come back,” I sob, running my fingers through his hair.

  “I promise,” he says.

  And then I have to stand there, watching him put on his helmet, straddle the bike, and start it up. He turns around for one last look at me and to wave goodbye. I wave back and all of a sudden the bike jumps forward and speeds off—around the building, down the back road, dissolving, fading smaller and smaller till at last I can’t see the red rear light gleaming in the dark or hear the roar of the bike’s engine.

  Jase has gone.

  I could break into a thousand pieces right now.

  My hand rises to the pendant round my neck. The diamond my mother called Wakefield blue. My fingers close around it, and I know what I need to do now.

  I need to find out everything about why Jase’s father killed my parents.

  I’ll help Taylor get the dirt on Plum—the dirt Taylor needs to keep her secret safe. And in return, Taylor will help me find out the truth about what happened at Wakefield Hall all those years ago.

  And maybe, just maybe, the truth will set Jase and me free.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lauren Henderson is the author of several acclaimed “Tart Noir” mystery novels for adults, as well as three romantic comedies and the witty romance handbook Jane Austen’s Guide to Dating, which has been optioned for film development by producer Kiwi Smith. Lauren’s books have been translated into more than twenty languages. She was born and raised in London, where she lives with her husband. You can find her at [http://www.laurenhenderson.net] www.laurenhenderson.net and at myspace/mslaurenhenderson.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2010 by Lauren Henderson

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

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  eISBN: 978-0-375-89588-3

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