“If you ever need to talk about it, come to me. No one else.”
“It’s in the box I dropped off.” Mum rose up, glancing about. “Where is it? Didn’t you read my note?”
“I did and there was no diary.”
“Yes, there was.” Mum headed toward Daffy’s room. “Is it in here?”
“Mum, I took everything out and it wasn’t there.” Daffy retrieved the box from the closet and dumped the contents on her bed. Picture frames, ribbons, mementos and a pair of gent’s socks.
“What am I missing?” Daffy shoved the contents around, finding nothing that resembled a brown leather book with lined pages.
“You didn’t find it?” Mum anchored her hands on her hips, furrowed her brow, and twisted her lips. “I am positive—wait, maybe it was in one of your dad’s boxes. Or, well…” She made another face. “One of Ella’s boxes.”
“Ella.” Revelation slowly dawned. “She was here while I was away.” Daffy pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped out a text.
Did you take anything from the box Mum brought over?
“Why would she take your diary?” Mum said.
“We talked about it in Florida. Leslie Ann wanted to read it.”
“Ella wouldn’t take it without asking, would she?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh mercy.” Mum exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed.
Daffy paced back into the lounge, around the dining table, and back, waiting for a reply. Mum met her in the middle of the room.
“Do you know if Ella’s at Pub Clemency?” Daffy said.
“Not sure.” Mum didn’t pace, but stayed in one place, hands clasped together, her fingertips white.
Finally, a reply pinged in.
Yeah, why? Gave it to LA.
What?Daffy looked at her mother, a sick sensation rising. “She gave it to Leslie Ann.”
Mum dropped again, this time down to the rummage chair.
You said she could have it if you ever found it.
I never.
You did. On the beach. What’s the big deal?
The words on her phone screen blurred as the floor beneath her feet began to tilt.
“Mum… Ella gave the diary to…to Leslie Ann.”
“I heard you the first time. Please tell me that somehow the queen’s secret was not in the back of the book.”
“Of course it was. You told me to write. Then I tore out the pages, I can’t remember why, and tucked them away. My heart is pounding.” Daffy moved toward the kitchen, tugging at the material around her neck. The air was thin. She couldn’t fill her lungs. The recessed kitchen lights seemed to blink and wink, fading and brightening, making her world spin. “What are we going to do?”
“Call Leslie Ann. Ask her.”
“But what if she didn’t read the diary yet? She has better things to do than read my pre-teen musings. If I ask her, she’ll read it for sure. But wait, she’s not said anything to me. So maybe she’s not read it. What if I just ask for it back?”
