This story contains references to stuff that comes up in the Scott and Bailey book, Dead to Me by Cath Staincliffe. It's not spoilers exactly but it might not make much sense if you haven't read about Janet's past. If you haven't read the book - you should, it's brilliant!

This is a bit different for me - neither funny nor shippy. I've been wanting to write something with Taisie/Elise in for ages but I didn't expect it to end up like this. Hope it works!

Janet wasn't sure what woke her. She found herself staring at the ceiling, dimly visible above her in the faint light seeping round the edges of the window blinds and under the door. Perhaps it had been nothing. She could have woken of her own accord, at the end of a dream or something, it happened a lot. She wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper. She had a feeling, though, that she had woken for a reason, that something specific had woken her up. But she had no idea what.

Janet lay still, letting her senses assess the situation. She felt calm – no heart thumping, no tensed limbs, no twisted sheets – so she hadn't been having a bad dream and it was unlikely that anything had scared her awake. No sounds. Nobody calling Mum or Janet, no footsteps. Nothing outside on the street – cars, voices, bangs, scufflings. Nothing that was out of place in the house. The radiator clunked slightly then was quiet. It was so still that Janet could hear her ears ringing. Odd. Something had definitely disturbed her sleep.

Janet turned her head to one side and squinted at the bedside clock. 03.14. The middle of the night. Catching sight of her phone, she thought to check that she had not missed a call. It could be Rachel or Gill or Andy, even Ade she supposed, although that was unlikely. But no, nothing on her phone. The light from the phone brightened her room a little and Janet propped herself to have a look around. Everything looked normal. She listened again. Janet was not an overly paranoid person. In the job she did she saw the worst that people did to each other but she tried not to take that home with her. She knew the crime stats. and she took the basic precautions to keep herself, her family and her home safe, but she tried not to worry about the all bad things that could, but probably wouldn't, happen. She did not lie awake at night listening to the windows creak and imagining it was robbers come to murder them all in their beds. So she was a little unsettled to find herself suddenly awake at quarter past three for an unknown reason, but she wasn't at all scared.

Perhaps, she thought, her Mum or the girls, one of them could have called her or maybe had a bad dream and cried out. Janet was never convinced that she believed in the idea of a mother's sixth sense – sometimes she was swayed towards it, other times she thought it was absolute claptrap. All the same, it might be that one of them was sick or having a nightmare. She was wide awake anyway now, it would do no harm to stick her head in on them and check. With this in mind, Janet heaved herself out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown and padded softly over to the door. They kept a lamp on on the landing all night and stepping out into the brighter light made Janet blink. As her eyes adjusted, the first thing she saw was Taisie who half leapt up from a huddle at the top of the stairs, her face wet and frightened.

.

Janet stopped in surprise. Taisie's eyes darted between her mum and her bedroom door, as if gauging whether she could make a run for it before her mum recovered her senses. No chance. She slumped back down again. She was well and truly caught. She scrubbed at her face with her dressing gown sleeve, making it red as well as tear-streaked. Altogether she was a pathetic little article and there was clearly one thing she needed. Janet tiptoed over, sat down on the top step and wrapped her arms around her youngest child.

Taisie gulped and started to sob, clinging to her mum. Janet held her, rubbing her back, smoothing her frizzed-out hair, clucking quietly over her little chick, and she waited for the storm of tears to pass. Her heart ached as it always did when one of her babies was hurting and she couldn't do anything to stop it. She didn't even know what was the cause of this outburst. It made her feel helpless, useless. There was so much going on in her daughters' lives now that she couldn't even begin to predict how they would be feeling at any given moment. When Taisie was three she had gone to nursery school in the mornings. At least once a week she would come home in a towering rage, crying and shouting and babbling. It was always Chloe she had fallen out with – Chloe had pushed her off the trike, Chloe had taken the brick she wanted, Chloe had said something mean, Chloe had splashed her. Janet had known then what it was all about. She had known that Taisie was as likely to have started it, or at least to have given as good as she had got. She had known that the two cross little girls would probably end up being friends for years, and she had been right. Best of all, she had known how to make it all better there and then. A cuddle, a song, a biscuit, a Donald Duck plaster. Now, she didn't understand, didn't know what would help. Except, hopefully, the cuddle. So Janet hushed her and rocked her and held her tight, tight, tight.

'What's up?' she whispered when Taisie quietened a little. 'What's the matter pet?'

Taisie shoved her face harder against her mum's shoulder. Janet felt her quiver, wondered if she would answer at all.

'I don't know.' Taisie choked it out, the words sounding unexpectedly loud in the still house, and burst into tears again.

.

Janet felt her stomach clench. She worried for her daughter, she really did. Taisie had always been the wildly emotional one. She felt things to extremes – raging tempers, floods of tears, bouncing-off-the-furniture excitement, sulks that could last for days.

'Are you feeling sick, you got a pain somewhere?' Taisie shook her head into Janet's dressing gown. 'Did something happen?' Janet couldn't imagine what could have happened since Taisie had gone up to bed a few hours ago, but there had to be some reason for this distress. She hoped.

'No, no, no,' Taisie gasped. 'I don't know.'

Janet patted her and sighed, held her close. She had always told herself that Taisie would grow out of it. She had said as much to Adrian when he had fussed or grumbled about Taisie "going off on one again." But a voice in the back of her head had hissed and whispered: what if she doesn't? What if this is it, how she is? How will she cope? Janet felt her own old anxiety creeping up through her body as she sat there, still holding Taisie. She felt her muscles start to tense, her stomach churn, her fingers begin to fidget, messing Taisie's already wild hair into further snags. What if she had given all this to her daughter? Some inheritance. Taise was very different from how Janet had been as a child. Outwardly, Janet had been more like Elise – the good girl, hard-worker, obedient, steady. But Janet recognised those uncontrollable emotions that Taisie struggled with. She knew how it felt to be unable to stop yourself, to be unable to contain the fear, the pain, the worry, to have it all spill out of you in unpredictable and alarming forms. Janet had learned to deal with it, but she had very much had to learn the hard way and she would give anything for her girl not to have to go through that. She hugged Taisie tighter and was warmed to feel the hug she got in return. Janet forced herself to relax, mentally reminding herself to let go of each muscle, taking a deep breath to try to control her breathing, her heart, her stomach. For Taisie's sake, she had to stay calm. She had to get to the bottom of this.

.

They sat for a while longer, Janet stroking Taisie's head as her steady stream of sobs broke up into short bursts, until finally she had stilled to the occasional sniff.

'What's brought this on?' Janet asked gently, looking down at the curls that obscured Taisie's face.

'I don't know.' Janet waited but Taisie was staring over her shoulder and didn't seem to have anything else to say.

'Is it you Dad?' she asked after a minute. 'Are you missing him?' Taisie shrugged.

'I don't know,' she whispered, 'I just felt sad.'

Janet hugged her tight again, fighting down her own rising sadness. Her poor little girl. It must have been some noise that Taisie had made that had woken her, even though she had obviously been trying not to. She was pretty chilly, Janet noticed, rubbing a bare foot that was within her reach. She must have been there for a while.

'How about we get you a cup of hot chocolate? My treat.' She whispered conspiratorially into Taisie's ear and was rewarded by the tiniest sniffly giggle.

'Ok.'

Taisie hung onto her mum's arm as they hobbled stiffly down the stairs together. Janet made her eyes go huge and round, pulling a silly face, as she pointed upwards then laid her finger to her lips.

'Shhhh!' Taisie giggled again, a little wanly but better than nothing.

Downstairs was all dark and hushed. Creeping down the hallway reminded Janet again of herself as a little girl. She used to sneak down to the kitchen at night sometimes to steal a biscuit or if she hadn't been allowed to take a book up to bed. She had got really expert at avoiding creaky floorboards and at opening doors without them clicking. It had been exciting, she wondered if Taisie saw it that way now. Janet didn't think her own girls were given to sneaking about the house at night. She was fairly certain she would have noticed things out of place by now if they did, noticing things was what she was good at, after all. Then again, she had been surprised tonight already by finding Taisie on the landing at all, so who knew what else her girls got up to.

In the kitchen, Janet eased the door shut and flicked on the light. Mother and daughter blinked and Janet felt Taisie shiver. It was colder down here, especially with bare feet on the hard floor.

'Come on,' she steered her daughter over to the sofa. 'Now, curl up tight.'

Taisie hopped up and scrunched her feet underneath herself. Janet pulled her dressing gown hood up first then wrapped the blanket from the back of the sofa around her, completely smothering her arms and feet. Taisie's face looked very small, peeping out of the mountain of fleece. Janet leaned over and dropped a series of firm kisses on the top of her head.

'You're my precious girl, you know that?'

Taisie nodded and Janet gave her one more kiss before turning away.

'Right, hot chocolate.'

.

'Mum?' Janet turned from the two steaming mugs she was stirring.

'Yeah?'

'Can I have a biscuit?' Janet's face softened into a smile.

'Course you can chick.' If she wanted food, Taisie must be feeling better. Janet dug out the biscuit tin and passed it to Taisie, following with their mugs a moment later. She curled herself up in the opposite corner of the sofa and wiggled her feet under the edge of the blanket.

'Oi they're freezing!' Taisie squeaked.

'That's why I'm trying to warm them up, dippy.' Janet stuck her tongue out. Taisie giggled.

'Didn't I teach you share?' Very dubiously, Taisie released about three inches of blanket and Janet thankfully tucked it over her cold feet. They sipped their drinks in silence for a minute. Janet was judging her moment and picking her question. When Taisie was two biscuits and half a mug in, she began, gently but insistent;y.

'Were you sitting on the landing for long?' Taisie shook her head sharply but kept her nose buried in her mug. So that's a yes then, Janet thought.

'Why didn't you come and wake me up if you were feeling bad?' Taisie shrugged.

'I didn't want to disturb you. It wasn't like I was sick or anything. Just sad.' Taisie chewed her lip. 'You're always so tired.' She paused again then stumbled on. 'I'm sorry for waking you up. I was trying to be dead quiet.'

Janet felt a little chill go through her. She reached out one hand to stroke Taisie's hair again, to soften the next question. She didn't want to sound like she was interrogating her daughter, but she had to know.

'Taisie, have you sat out there like that before?' Janet found one curl to wrap around her finger. Slowly, Taisie nodded.

'Oh Taisie love.' Janet's heart physically ached for her daughter and she cursed herself for not knowing this sooner. She didn't know what to say to make it better but she wished desperately that she could. Dumping her mug on the floor, Janet reached out and pulled her into a hug again.

'It's ok Mum.' Taisie wasn't crying now, in fact she seemed pretty calm about it all.

'Mum I'm gonna spill my hot chocolate,' she protested after a minute of enduring the hug. Janet stifled a sigh and let her go. She watched as Taisie selected another biscuit and lost herself in the business of eating and drinking. She didn't want to talk about it, that much was clear. Janet wondered if there were reasons she wasn't telling her. Maybe it was about her Dad moving out, or maybe something had happened at school, maybe she had fallen out with one of her friends or she was worried about something, one of these endless activities she was always rushing off to, perhaps.

Or maybe it was as simple as she had said – she just felt sad. Janet remembered hiding things from her own mother when she was a teenager, a bit older maybe but kids grew up faster nowadays, they said. Janet hoped there was nothing more disturbing behind Taisie's sadness, no darker secret. She found it hard to believe it would be possible in such a tight, busy family as theirs, especially with Taisie who had always talked about everything. Janet found it hard to imagine her keeping any kind of a secret, even Christmas presents were usually broadcast well before the date with Taisie. She really didn't want to be that kind of mum, though, the sort of person that her kids couldn't talk to, the kind they didn't trust with their problems. She really hoped, she believed, that she had brought them up to communicate more than she ever had. And yet, there was Taisie crying at the top of the stairs at night and nobody knew. What could she do?

.

'Mum?' Taisie raised her eyes over the rim of her now empty mug.

'Mmm?' Janet arched her eyebrows, drawing herself back to the present.

'Is it weird?' Taisie looked down. 'You know, crying about nothing. Feeling sad for no reason.'

'No.' Janet didn't need to pause to think, she spoke with absolute certainty. Taisie's head shot up, hope sparking uncertainly in her little face.

'Isn't it though?'

'No, not weird.' Janet took her time now, searching for the right words. 'Sometimes you feel things – sad, angry, worried, scared – and that's ok, that's normal, everyone does. Sometimes there's a really obvious reason and sometimes you don't understand why. And some people feel more strongly, more outwardly than others. Not everyone is going to understand that, Taisie, and yeah, they might think it's weird but it's not. It's you.' Janet took a deep breath.

'And it's me. And lots of other people out there. You just have to learn how to cope with it.' She stopped, wondering how much of what she had said had gone in. She had never talked to her kids about her own problems before, preferring them to see her as the strong mum who could always protect them, a little scared that they would trust her less if they knew she wasn't invincible. Fighting back her own shivers, Janet patted Taisie's knee. 'Do you understand me?'

'D'you mean like mental health?' Taisie asked, twisting her mouth on the last two words in a way that was a pure echo of her mum. Janet kept her face deliberately still.

'What do you know about mental health?'

'We did it in school.' Taisie screwed up her face in an effort to remember. 'Mr. Wilcox said you have to look after it or you end up committing suicide or something. I don't know, I wasn't really listening.'

There's a surprise thought Janet. She bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself smiling at her daughter's liberal interpretation. Really, she thought, even when the schools tried they couldn't seem to get it right.

'There's a bit more to it than that,' she said, ruffling Taisie's hair. Taisie pulled a face at her but leaned in to her mum. Still a bit shaken then, Janet recognised.

'Mr. Wilcox was right about one thing though. You do have to look after yourself.' Maybe there was a way of getting some good out of this.

'And one of the best things you can do is talk to people, tell someone when there's something wrong even if you don't understand it.' Janet looked down at her daughter. She was only thirteen, Janet didn't want to go into too much. If she could only know that she wasn't going through it alone.

'Tell you what, how about you and me make a deal?' Janet said. Taisie lifted her head, suspicious.

'What?'

'Next time you feel like you did tonight, you come and wake me up. Promise?'

'What's your half of the deal?' Taisie asked warily.

'I promise I won't mind.' Taisie considered it. Janet watched her.

'And I won't ask questions if you don't want me to.' Hopefully that would tip the balance. Janet knew almost at once that it had worked as Taisie's face began to lighten gradually.

'Ok,' she whispered.

'Deal,' Janet agreed and sealed it with a kiss on the top of her head.

'Right then madam, we had better get back to bed or we'll both look like zombies in the morning.' Janet tried to pull a zombie face and Taisie laughed.

'That is the worst impression I have ever seen. You look like a zombie duck.'

Janet chuckled with her, heaved her off the sofa and hustled her up the stairs again as quietly as possible.

.

At the top of the stairs Taisie hesitated, her eyes on her own bedroom door. Janet caught the look.

'Why don't you come in with me for tonight?' she whispered.

Taisie nodded, looking strikingly young all at once. Still my baby, Janet thought, just about.

She tucked her in and lay down herself. The house was quiet again, the room dark, the bed was warming up. Taisie quickly fell asleep, curled up in a tight ball.

Janet lay on her side watching her daughter's shadowy form – sleeping, breathing – for a long time before she herself slept.