Devlin's Secret

The Start

Rebecca - Present Day

Mama sat across the table from me, a mug of coffee untouched in front of her. Her eyes were flickering, she was clearly struggling to stay awake. She hadn't showered or brushed her hair for a fortnight. 

"I think you need t-"

"I think," she interrupted quietly, squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again wide. "You need to listen."

"At least drink your coffee."

She sighed and moved it towards her with her left hand, laying her palm flat against the mug and pushing her fingers under the handle for support. She had no intention of drinking it. I wasn't even sure of the last time she'd eaten or drunk anything. 

Mama hadn't really spoken to me since the funeral. In fact, she hadn't really spoken to anyone at all. Uncle Colin had suggested giving her time to think things through, but it had been over a month. All Mum's stuff was still in the house. Boxes had been piled everywhere, making the place look like we were moving out. It wasn't right.

She pulled in a breath. "Becky, you're going to be finding out a lot of... things. That you probably should have been told before."

I stayed silent. And so did she. I knew she was waiting for a response, but I didn't have one for her. What was she expecting me to say?

She stared at a stain on the table. "Now, I need you to say you'll do something."

"What is it?" 

I waited, with my heart racing, for her answer. She didn't give it straight away. I noticed that she'd been wearing the same clothes for four days.

"No matter what you find out, and no matter what Hugo finds out, you don't tell him anything without asking me first."

Here, she left a silence for a response she knew she would get.

"Don't you think Hugo ought to know what's true and what isn't rather than leaving him in the dark?"

"He's not old enough to be thinking about some of the stuff we've kept from you."

Hang on, we've? "He's seventeen years of age."

At this, she frowned and sighed. That usually meant we'd have to discuss it later, and again after that, and again after that until I agreed with her.

Neither of us spoke again. Mama drank her coffee laboriously. I looked around the kitchen, which was spotless. She had obviously been spending her time making sure everything was clean instead of sleeping and looking after herself. For a moment, I considered forcing her to take some sleeping tablets and go to bed. 

Slowly, our eyes met across the table. "It's strange that you've always looked like your mother," she said with the tiniest trace of a smile.

It was true. Despite the fact that I was Mama's biological daughter, I had looked like my mum since childhood. Nobody quite knew why. My parents had opted to use sperm donation for the pregnancy, so I actually had none of Mum's genes in me at all. 

Grandpa used to say it was the work of angels, that obviously I was chosen for them, and he admired Mum because of it. She used to laugh and say that it was more likely the devil inside, a joke I didn't understand until I was older. It was true he'd never liked her, but he respected her and accepted her presence in his life. I don't think she ever did anything bad to him. They had both told me that an important lesson to learn in life is that sometimes, people just don't like each other for no reason whatsoever. 

"Your auntie is coming over to stay for a bit," Mama told me hesitantly. Her eyes seemed to be asking me if that was alright, and only one person inspired that expression on her face.

"Kay?" asked the voice of Hugo from behind me, making my heart rate shoot up.

I whipped around to face him. "Jesus, when did you come in?" I asked. He just grinned at me.

"Yes," said Mama. "Becky, that means you'll be sharing a bed with someone unfortunately. You can either let Kay have your room and you share with me or Hugo, or you can share your bedroom with her. Sorry."

I groaned. This choice was difficult to make because I didn't want to share with anyone. I didn't want to share a bed or my room. I wanted to have the decision made for me, and Hugo picked up on this instantly.

"Go with me," he said with a shrug. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" Honestly, I had never slept in Hugo's room before and I thought he'd be uncomfortable with the idea. 

"Yeah. You used to let me hang out in your room all the time. The least I can do is return the favour. And," he added, glancing at Mama who had just dropped the last of her coffee on the floor in a momentary lapse of consciousness, "I think she's got about a fortnight of sleep to catch up on."

"Don't be ridiculous," she objected feebly. "It's only half three, it's too early in the day to sleep."

I frowned at her logic. "What about if you just have a nap on the sofa? Or do you want to be tired the whole time Kay's here?"

She sighed in defeat and pushed herself up from the chair. We watched her slowly walk to the living room and collapse on the settee.

Hugo knelt down to clean up the mug and spilled coffee, and as he stood back up I noticed him roll his shoulder backwards as though trying to get rid of an ache. There were scuff marks on his uniform, too, but I didn't want to accuse him of anything so I informed him that I'd be putting a wash on soon and he should put anything that he needed cleaning in the basket. He smiled and told me he would.

I went to get a blanket for Mama, deliberately taking my time. My brother was subtle but he was also ever so slightly predictable, and on this occasion I knew exactly what he'd do. 

Sure enough, when I went back into the kitchen, he had changed into his normal clothes and the washing machine had been loaded. He'd made a mistake, though, which ruined his little plan.

"Hugo, you can't put a white shirt in with a dark wash," I said, stopping him before he started the cycle. 

"I'll get it," he cut across me as I opened the door. 

"Fine," I said, but I didn't move. There was no way he could remove the shirt without me seeing it.

He looked at me for a few seconds and then said, "Just don't let Mama know until later, okay?" I nodded and so, grimacing, he pulled the shirt from among the other clothes to reveal it was covered in red, muddy stains.

"Is that your blood?"

"Some of it's mine."

"What happened?" I took the shirt from him and threw it in the outside bin. 

"I'm sure you'll find out when they send the letter home," he replied as he followed me around. "What are you doing?"

"There's no way that's going to wash out," I said. "You'll just have to wear your other one. You break up from school in like two weeks anyway, right?"

"Great." He rolled his eyes and pushed past.

I raised my eyebrows. "Don't be sarky with me."

He turned around, the expression on his face showing his readiness to respond with venom, but our quarrel was cut short by a knock on the door.