The Colour of Bee Larkham’s Murder

‘In one minute or maybe ninety seconds.’ I watch as Custard Yellow returns to his original mission. The plastic bag billows in the breeze as he turns it upside down and empties the seed into the feeders. There’s not enough to go around all six, but at least three have been half topped up.

Job done.

Custard Yellow sticks his thumb in the air and walks back to his mum’s house.

‘I’m ready to go to the police station now,’ I say, turning to the policewoman. ‘I have to tell you everything that’s happened. I want to confess.’

‘No need for that.’ She talks in small viridian blue staccato sentences. ‘We can talk here. Can we come inside? It’s nothing to worry about. You should have someone with you. You’re on your own, right? Is there someone you want to be here?’

‘I want my mum. She’s the only person I want right now.’

‘That’s OK. Is she at work? We can call her for you. Have you got her telephone number to hand?’

‘You can’t call her. She’s cobalt blue, but the colour’s fading.’ I burst into tears. I can’t help myself. Truly, I can’t. ‘That’s all Bee Larkham’s fault. She diluted Mum’s colour for Dad, mainly Dad, but me too because I didn’t realize what was happening. By the time I noticed it was too late to do anything about it and I’d lost her.’

‘It’s all right, Jasper. Don’t get upset. I’m sorry I upset you. How can we get hold of her?’

‘I don’t know how to bring her back. I don’t know how to bring anyone back from the dead.’

‘Jasper—’

‘I want to bring her back, the baby too. I can’t! I don’t know where the bodies are. Please help me! Help me! I can’t do this. I’m too young. I want to get out of here.’

Her face looms towards me. Then another. I don’t recognize either. A man’s mouthing loud words and unpleasant colours at me, but I don’t know what they are or who he is. I don’t want to study the shades in detail, because I know I’ll hate them. I’ve blocked them out.

His mouth is thin and red, like a gash. It’s opening and closing.

I see ice blue crystals with glittery edges and jagged, silver icicles again.

They’re going to hurt me. Hurt my tummy.

I scream and scream until the icicles smash and fall away into tiny pieces.

I see nothing.

Nothing except blackness, all around me, pulling me down.

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