Page 76 of Child's Play

A brief nostalgic smile fleeted across her mouth before the lips hardened.

Kim found herself fearing the eventual fate of Jemima.

‘Until one day when Belinda had earache. She didn’t feel well and was easily distracted from the studies our father had set her. She cried out constantly for “Mima” while rubbing at her ear. She pointed to the toybox in the hallway and wouldn’t concentrate on her work. Frustrated, my father removed it from view. I found it that night, ripped up and in the bin.’

Kim now began to understand the significance of Jemima and the story that Veronica had shared.

Just like her parents, Jemima had been all hers until Belinda came along and she had shared and then lost completely.

‘This is why you said if Belinda had been born first they would never have had you?’

‘Who wants average after they’ve had perfection?’ Veronica snapped.

‘And was she?’ Kim asked. ‘Perfection, I mean.’

The woman regarded her coolly. ‘It doesn’t matter how many times or how many different ways you ask the question, I’m not going to tell you every detail of our past.’

‘Okay, just talk to me about Belinda. Tell me the effect her past had on her present.’

Veronica hesitated as though trying to decide whether to physically throw them out or humour them.

She sighed heavily.

‘You ever have your parents come to your sports day, Inspector?’ she asked.

‘Every year,’ Bryant answered for her. ‘Bean bag race champion,’ he added lightly.

Veronica’s expression didn’t change. ‘And, did you see their faces when you won?’

Bryant nodded.

‘I’m sure they looked delighted, proud, as though the sun shone from your very backside.’

‘Suppose so.’

‘It’s a heady feeling. Addictive even. We all want our parents to be proud, and when you can do it every day with very little effort, why wouldn’t you?’

‘But?’ Kim said, hearing the word ‘but’ in her voice.

‘How amazed would you be to see a two-year-old performing complex multiplication sums?’

‘I’d certainly be impressed,’ Kim agreed.

‘And a teenager?’

‘Still pretty special.’

‘A twenty-six-year-old Oxford graduate?’

‘Less so,’ she said, honestly.

‘There’s the problem with child geniuses, officer. Eventually they grow up and the shock factor wears away. The ability is no less unique or special, as few people can do it, but the interest is. It is no longer odd or freakish or even remotely interesting.’

‘Your parents bored of her?’

‘As did everyone else. Child geniuses are fascinating, adult ones are not. So, of course the attention dies away. The circus eventually leaves town.’

‘But the need for attention remains,’ Kim realised.