Public Secrets

quietly in the background like Bev. No, not this one.
The three of them, in their separate ways, were on the verge of destroying the group. And nothing mattered more to Johnno.

W HEN EMMA WOKE , the floor was vibrating with the bass from the stereo. She lay quietly a moment listening, trying as she did from time to time to recognize the song from the beat alone.

She’d gotten used to the parties. Her da liked to have people around. Lots of music, lots of laughing. When she was older, she would go to parties, too.
Bev always made sure the house was very clean before the guests arrived. That was silly, really, Emma thought. In the morning, the house was a terrible mess with smelly glasses and overflowing ashtrays. More often than not a few of the guests would be sprawled over the sofas and chairs amid the clutter.
Emma wondered what it would be like to sit up all night, talking, laughing, listening to music. When you were grown-up, no one told you when you had to go to bed, or have a bath.
With a sigh, she rolled over on her back. The music was faster now. She could feel the driving bass pulse in the walls. And something else. Footsteps, coming down the hall. Emma thought. Miss Wallingsford. She prepared to close her eyes and feign sleep when another thought occurred to her. Perhaps it was Da or Mum passing through to check on her and Darren. If it was, she could pretend to have just woken, then she could persuade them to tell her about the party.
But the footsteps passed by. She sat up clutching Charlie. She’d wanted company, even if only for a moment or two. She wanted to talk about the party, or the trip to New York. She wanted to know what song was playing. She sat a moment, a small, sleepy child in a pink nightgown, bathed by the cheerful glow of a Mickey Mouse night-light.
She thought she heard Darren crying. Straightening, she strained to listen. She was certain she heard Darren’s cranky tears over the pulse of the music. Automatically she climbed out of bed, tucking Charlie under one arm. She would sit with Darren until he quieted, and leave Charlie to watch over him through the rest of the night.
The hallway was dark, which surprised her. A light always burned there in case Emma had to use the bathroom during the night. She had a bad moment at the doorway, imagining the things that lurked in the shadowy corners. She wanted to stay in her room with the grinning Mickey.
Then Darren let out a yowling cry.
There was nothing in the corners, Emma told herself as she started down the dark hallway. There was nothing there at all. No monsters, no ghosts, no squishy or slithering things.
It was the Beatles playing now.

Emma wet her lips. Just the dark, just the dark, she told herself. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark by the time she’d reached Darren’s door. It was closed. That was wrong, too. His door was always left open so he could be heard easily when awakened.
She reached out, then jumped as she thought she heard something move behind her. Heart pumping, she turned to scan the dark hallway. Shirting shadows towered into nameless monsters, making sweat break out on her brow and back.
Nothing there, nothing there, she told herself, and Darren was crying his lungs out.
She turned the knob and pushed the door open.
“Come together,” Lennon sang. “Over me.”
There were two men in the room. One was holding Darren, struggling to keep him still while the baby screamed in fear and anger. The other had something in his hand, something that the light from the giraffe lamp on the dresser caused to glint.
“What are you doing?”
The man whirled at her voice. He wasn’t a doctor, Emma thought as she made out the needle in his hand. She recognized him, and knew he wasn’t a doctor. And Darren wasn’t sick.
The other man swore, a short spurt of ugly words, while he fought to keep Darren from wriggling out of his arms.
“Emma,” the man she knew said in a calm, friendly voice. He smiled. It was a false smile, an angry smile. She noted it, and that he still held the needle as he stepped toward her. She turned and ran.
Behind her she heard Darren call out. “Ma!”
Sobbing, she raced down the hall. There were monsters, her panicked mind taunted. There were monsters and things with snappy teeth in the shadows. They were coming after her now.
He nearly caught the trailing edge of her nightgown. Swearing, he dove for her. His hand skimmed over her ankle, slid off. She yelped as though she’d been scalded. As