"Hi, hon," she said. "How was the game?"

  "Good, I played well."

  "Did you win?"

  "Lost on the eighteenth - it was all on the last putt and Archie sank a blinder. I just want to have a quick shower. Are we going?"

  "Yes, of course." She looked at him testily.

  "Sure, no problem, I'll get ready. Where's Verity?"

  "Upstairs. She was playing with her computer, that new Endangered Species game of yours."

  "Is she enjoying it?"

  "Uh-huh, I guess so." Susan found it hard, sometimes, to know what Verity was thinking.

  "She ought to be outside on a day like this."

  "So should I." Susan smiled. "Guess I'm not setting her a good example. I'll go get her ready."

  Susan went upstairs and along the corridor to Verity's room. The door was closed as usual. She went in, and saw Verity, in dungarees and a T-shirt, sitting in front of the computer screen. She was studying something intently, her face framed by her long red hair, her mouth puckered in concentration as she tapped the keyboard, then moved the mouse across the pad. Susan heard the trumpet of an elephant. "How you doing, hon?"

  Verity raised a hand, signalling her not to interrupt. "I'm moving elephants to a new watering hole."

  Susan walked over to the gerbil's cage and peered in. "Hi, Buzzy, you were a noisy little -"

  The gerbil was lying motionless on its side on the floor of the cage. Susan shot a glance at Verity. Christ, had she noticed? She opened the cage door warily, because Buzzy had sharp teeth and had bitten her nastily a week ago, and touched the little creature lightly with her finger.

  It was rigid.

  Verity was still absorbed in her game. Susan picked up the gerbil and held it in the palm of her hand, studying it. She frowned. The head was at a strange angle. When she touched it, it was loose, as if it was only attached by skin and not bone. Then she saw blood in its mouth and over its tiny incisors.

  A cold slick travelled down her spine. "Verity," she said, her voice several octaves higher than normal. "What's happened to Buzzy?"

  "Buzzy's dead," Verity said, nonchalantly, moving her mouse again and tapping more keys.

  "How did this happen?"

  "He was annoying you so I broke his neck. It's the best way to do it." She leaned forward to peer more closely at something on the screen.

  Susan was unsure how to handle this. "You killed Buzzy? You killed your pet? I thought you liked Buzzy."

  Verity shook her hair away from her face. Then she stared at her mother levelly and said, "The only true pain is to hurt the thing you love."

  "What?" Susan said, in amazement.

  Verity turned back and resumed her game.

  Susan walked over to her, and put an arm around her shoulder. "What did you say, hon?"

  Verity turned back towards her, breaking free of Susan's arm with a ferocity that startled her. "Leave me alone!"

  "It's nearly half past five, you have to get ready for church."

  "Not going to church. I don't want to go to church. We go every week and it's boring and I don't want to go any more." She burst into tears and began screaming, "Donwannago! Donwannago!"

  John came into the room. "What the hell -?"

  He stopped as he saw the gerbil in Susan's hand. And the look of steel in Susans eyes.

  Susan knelt down and, with her free hand, pulled the computer's plug out of the wall socket. Then she stood up, grabbed Verity by the neck of her T-shirt and yanked her out of the chair.

  "We're just getting ready for church," Susan said, brightly.

 

 

  Peter James, (1997) The Truth

 

 

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