Forget Me Not by Luana Lewis

secure. I take a photograph, but she’s not smiling and the shot is blurred. Isaac whispers something in her ear.
    I wave as the little cart trundles away but they don’t see me. Slowly, they climb. Higher and higher. Lexi’s body is pressed up right against Isaac’s side. Their cart stops for a second or two at the highest point on the track. It sways in the wind and I hold my breath, then it pitches forward and down, as though flying straight off the edge of a cliff.
    ‘I had tea with Cleo yesterday,’ I say. ‘In Regent’s Park.’
    Ben is looking up at the rollercoaster as it begins the next climb.
    ‘She’s been a great support,’ he says. ‘Vivien and I made a few friends in the area, through the school, but it’s not the same. In a weird way, having Cleo around is like having a piece of Vivien back with me. She knew Vivien inside and out, I don’t have to explain anything. I suppose that sounds odd.’
    ‘I’m glad for you,’ I say. And I am, truly.
    Ben’s vulnerability does not come as a surprise. I see this every day at work; the way trauma opens a person up, and pulls down their defences. I only hope Cleo doesn’t take advantage.
    The ride is mercifully brief. And a rip-off, considering the price. Isaac and Lexi pull in to the start position in their little cart and the disinterested employee unlocks the bar and sets them free. Lexi runs over to Ben and pulls at his arm, she’s insistent, jumping up and down and pointing at the ticket booth. Ben is laughing and it is a pleasure to see them happy, free of their pain for even a short time. He goes to buy them another set of tickets.
    The cart sets off again, Lexi gripping the safety bar and grinning as Ben and I wave goodbye. I feel my heart contract. She looks like any other normal child, I tell myself. She can recover. Once again, the rollercoaster begins its slow, suspense-filled ascent as Ben and I stand side by side at the railings. Lexi is already a seasoned rollercoaster fan, and this time her screams are more for show. She pitches down towards us, her arms in the air. Isaac, on the other hand, looks a little greyer and less enthusiastic.
    ‘Has DS Cole been in touch with you again?’ Ben says.
    ‘Yes. She was at the hospital.’
    He turns to face me. ‘What did she want?’
    I hesitate. Things are tentatively good between us. Here I am, a normal grandmother on a normal family outing. I don’t want to talk about Vivien and Ben’s argument or the night he spent in a hotel. I don’t even want to think about it. But I have no choice, because I’m not about to lie to him.
    ‘She asked if I knew about an argument, between you and Vivien, the day before she died. I told her I didn’t know anything about it. Which I didn’t.’
    Ben nods. His jaw clenches. I reach out and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m sorry, Ben. I can imagine how you feel.’
    I’m desperate not to say the wrong thing, not to make his guilt worse, and so I say nothing more. I feel as though I’m walking a tightrope, trying not to make things worse for Ben, and between us. Though he doesn’t look at me, he reaches up and pats my hand, which still rests on his shoulder.
    ‘I worry about the press,’ Ben says. ‘You need to be careful what you say, I don’t want any gossip being leaked. Our story is a lucrative one and Met officers are only human. Isaac said he had several police contacts who used to feed him information.’
    I’m shocked by what Ben has said. I had assumed he would be consumed with regret, not concerned about gossip. Because the last time he ever saw Vivien, he was angry at her. He abandoned her.
    My hand slips from his shoulder. My skin is mottled from the cold. ‘I answer her questions, that’s all. I don’t embellish.’
    ‘Good,’ he says.
    The Lizard Man is coming closer, he’s bare-chested, covered in green scales from head to toe. His forked tongue flickers as he calls out, offering us tickets to the freak show. I