‘I thought I’d never see you again.’
The doll, swaddled in tissue paper in her shoebox cradle, was tucked into the bottom of mum’s wardrobe.
‘At least, I hoped I’d never see you again.’
The black painted eyes remained impassive. The doll had arrived one Christmas. Carved by dad from pale wood, she had articulated arms and legs, and came with a boxful of clothes sewn by mum.
‘What are you going to call her?’
I had two brothers, so it the choice was easy.
‘Sister!’
Sister became Sissy, hugged so tightly everyone joked that the painted face would wear away. It didn’t, but over time the paint had smeared. I didn’t like sleeping with her after that, with her sharp eyes and cruel smile. Then the whispers started. I’d hoped that they were a result of my midnight imagination after nightmares woke me, but they persisted.
‘You’re no fun.’
‘You’re boring.’
‘You’re useless.’
In the end I’d begged mum to get rid of Sissy; instead she’d just hidden her. Never mind, she can’t hurt me now I’m an adult. Then I hear the familiar whisper.
‘Hello Maddie, I’ve been waiting for you. Now Mummy’s dead, I’ll never leave you.’
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