‘Oh yes?’
‘It’s not fair, Mrs Paxton. I’ve read thousands of history books and not one of them mentions us noughts, except to say how the Crosses fought against us and won. I thought history was supposed to be the truth.’
‘Ah!’ Mrs Paxton nodded. ‘And you expressed your views to Mr Jason?’
I nodded.
‘I see.’
‘Callum, sometimes it’s better to leave certain things unsaid . . .’
‘But that’s what everyone does . . Nearly everyone does,’ I amended. ‘And things that go unsaid soon get forgotten. That’s why us noughts aren’t in any of the history books and we never will be unless we write them ourselves. Mr Jason didn’t like it when I said that us noughts have done things too. But then Mr Jason doesn’t like anything I do or say. He hates me.’
‘Nonsense. Mr Jason just doesn’t want to see you fail. And being hard on you is his way of trying to . . .’ Mrs Paxton sought for the appropriate thing to say, ‘to toughen you up.’
‘Yeah, right.’ I didn’t even try to keep the derisive scepticism out of my voice.
Mrs Paxton placed a hand under my chin to raise my head so that I had to look directly at her. ‘Callum, a change of policy at this school and all schools was long overdue. Believe me, Mr Jason doesn’t want to see you fail any more than I do. We don’t want to see any of the noughts fail.’
‘And he told you this, did he?’
Mrs Paxton’s hand dropped to her side. ‘He didn’t have to.’
‘Yeah, right.’ I dismissed immediately.
Mrs Paxton looked thoughtful for a few moments. ‘Callum, I’m going to tell you something in the strictest confidence. I’m going to trust you. D’you understand?’
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.
‘Mr Jason isn’t against you. And d’you know why?’
‘No . . .’
‘Because his mother was a nought.’
thirty-one. Sephy
‘Don’t treat me like this, Kamal. I won’t stand for it.’
‘Then go and have another bottle or eight of wine. That’s about all you’re good for these days.’
I winced at Dad’s tone of voice, so utterly contemptuous and he made no attempt to hide or disguise it. Minnie sat on the stair above mine as we listened to one of our parents’ rare arguments. Rare because Dad was never at home. Rare because on the very few occasions that Dad was home, Mother was usually too out of it to notice or too refined to start an argument. We’d just finished our dinner in the family room and both Minnie and I had been sent upstairs by Mother to do our homework. That alone was enough to tip us off that something was going on. Mother never told us to do our homework unless she wanted to get us out of the way.
‘So you’re not even going to deny it?’ Mother asked.
‘Why should I? It’s about time you and I faced the truth. Past time in fact.’
‘Kamal, what’ve I done to deserve this? I’ve always been a good wife to you. A good mother to our children.’
‘Oh yes,’ Dad agreed. And if possible his tone grew even more sneering. ‘You’ve been an excellent mother to all my children.’
I turned to give my sister a puzzled look. She was looking straight ahead. What did Dad mean by that?
‘I did my best.’ Mother sounded like she was starting to cry.
‘Your best? Your best isn’t up to much.’
‘Was I supposed to let you bring your bastard into our house?’ Mother shouted.
‘Oh no! The great Jasmine Adeyebe-Hadley bring up her husband’s child as her own? That would never do. I mean, God forbid that you should chip a nail or dirty one of your designer gowns looking after my son.’
‘I should have let you bring your son into our house, I know that now,’ Mother said. ‘But when you told me, I was hurt. I made a mistake.’
‘So did I, when I married you,’ Dad shot back. ‘You wanted to punish me for my son who was born before you and I ever met and that’s what you spent years doing. Don’t blame me if I’ve finally decided enough is enough.’
Dad had a son? Minnie and I had a brother. I turned to my sister. She was looking at me, her eyes narrowed. We had a brother . . .
‘Kamal, I want . . . I was hoping that maybe we could start again,’ Mother began hesitantly. ‘Just you and me. We could go away somewhere and . . .
‘Oh, Jasmine, don’t be ridiculous,’ Dad interrupted. ‘It’s over. Just accept the fact. Besides, look at you . . . You’ve really let yourself go.’
I gasped at that – and I wasn’t the only one.
‘You’re a cruel man,’ Mother cried.
‘And you’re a drunk,’ said Dad. ‘And worse than that, you’re a boring drunk.’
Minnie stood up and headed upstairs. I didn’t blame her. I knew I should do the same. Stop listening. Walk away. Just go, before I ended up hating both my parents – but I stayed put. Like a fool, I stayed put.
‘If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be Deputy Prime Minister. You’d be nowhere.’ Mother’s voice trembled as she spoke.
‘Oh please! Don’t pretend you did it for me because we both know that you did it for yourself, then the kids, then our neighbours and your friends. What I wanted, what I needed, came a long way down your list.’
‘I didn’t hear you protest when my parties got you known by all the right people, started you moving in all the right circles.’
‘No, I didn’t complain,’ Dad admitted. ‘But you got just as much out of it as I did.’
‘And now you’re going to walk out on me and your children for that . . . that . . .’ Mother’s voice dripped with bitterness.
‘Her name is Grace,’ Dad interrupted harshly. ‘And I’m not walking out on you now. I left a long time ago; you just refused to believe it. You and the children will get everything you need. You’ll be well provided for. And I want regular access to my girls. I love them too much to let you poison their minds against me. But after the next election, I’m going to make it officially known that you and I are no longer together.’
‘You won’t get away with this. I’ll . . . I’ll divorce you,’ Mother threatened. ‘I’ll tell all the newspapers . . .’
‘You’ll divorce me?’ Dad actually laughed. I flinched, sticking my fingers in my ears, only to take them out again at once. ‘Jasmine, the day you divorce me will be the happiest day of my life.’
‘You can’t afford the scandal of a divorce in your position. A position I helped you to get.’
‘If I had a penny for every time you’ve said that, I’d be the richest man on the planet,’ Dad replied.
Dad’s footsteps sounded on the parquet floor. I jumped to my feet and darted upstairs, not stopping until I’d reached my bedroom. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t even close to crying. I grabbed my jacket from over my chair and ran downstairs, heading out of the door before anyone could stop me. I needed to clear my head and our house wasn’t the place to do it. I ran and ran, through the rose garden, across the wasteland, towards the beach. Maybe if I ran fast enough my thoughts would click into some sort of order.
Dad had found someone else. He was leaving. And I had an older brother, older than Minnie. Nothing in my life was a fact. There was nothing to cling on to, nothing to anchor myself to. I just whirled around and around and . . .
Callum . . .
Callum was already there – in our place. In our space. I ran along the beach the moment I saw him and plonked myself down beside him. Callum put his arm around my shoulders. We sat in silence, whilst I tried to straighten out my thoughts. I looked at his face which was in profile. But I could see enough to realize there was something bothering him, something that was making him sad.
‘I’m sorry about Mr Jason,’ I said at last. ‘I finally got what you were talking about in today’s lesson.’
‘Don’t apologize for him,’ Callum frowned. ‘It’s not your place to apologize for every moronic cretin in the wor
ld.’
‘Only the moronic Cross cretins?’ I asked with a brief smile.
‘Not even those.’ Callum smiled back. ‘I’ll tell you what, you don’t apologize for every Cross who’s an idiot and I won’t apologize for every nought who’s the same. Agreed?’
‘It’s a deal.’ Callum and I shook hands.
Come on! Best to get it over with! I told myself. Taking a deep breath, I said, ‘Callum, I’ve got a confession to make. About my birthday party.’
He became very still the moment the words left my mouth. ‘Oh yes?’ he prompted, his arm dropping away from my shoulders.
‘It’s just that . . . I wanted you there, but for mostly the wrong reasons.’
‘Which were?’
‘I wanted to upset Mum and my so-called friends,’ I told him. ‘I wanted to hit back at all of them.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t,’ I said. ‘I’m telling you now because I’m taking back my invite.’
‘Why?’
‘Because . . . because,’ I said, hoping Callum would get my ridiculous attempt at an explanation.
He secret-smiled at me, saying dryly. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome! We’ll do something else for my birthday – OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Growing up is hard work,’ I sighed again.
‘And it’s going to get harder,’ Callum warned, his voice suddenly grim.
I looked at him and opened my mouth to ask what he meant. But I closed my mouth without saying a word. I was too afraid of the answer.
thirty-two. Callum
It was late at night, past eleven, as I lay on top of my bed, trying to make sense of what Mrs Paxton had told me. Mr Jason’s mother was a nought . . . I was missing something somewhere. Mrs Paxton had been so sure that Mr Jason was on my side and yet every time he looked at me . . .
He hated me.
I was sure of it. I was almost sure of it. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe I was just being a coward, assuming that every Cross was my enemy so that if it turned out to be the case I could say ‘I told you so!’ But Mrs Paxton wasn’t my enemy. And Sephy certainly wasn’t. I rubbed my hands over my forehead. My thoughts were spinning round so much they were giving me a splitting headache. I wasn’t sure of anything any more.
Someone knocked on my door. I sat up.
‘Who is it?’
‘Lynny,’ said my sister. ‘Can I come in?’
‘’Course.’
Lynette came into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
‘You OK?’ I asked.
‘No,’ Lynny shook her head. ‘You?’
‘The same. But I’ll survive.’
Lynny gave me a strange look at that. But then she smiled and the peculiar expression on her face vanished without trace. Since Lynny’s and Jude’s fight, neither of them had spoken to the other. Not one word. My sister sat down at the foot of my bed. She started picking at the loose threads on my duvet cover. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing.
‘How’s school?’
‘It’s OK. I’m learning a lot.’ And wasn’t that the truth!
Lynny must’ve picked up on my tone of voice because she looked up and smiled dryly. ‘Tough going, huh?’
‘The toughest.’
‘Reckon you’ll stick with it?’
‘I’m in now. Wild horses couldn’t drag me out,’ I said belligerently.
Lynny smiled, her face full of admiration. ‘How d’you do it, Callum?’
‘Do what?’
‘Keep going?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Lynny challenged, which kind of made me start.
I smiled at her total conviction that I knew what I was doing. ‘I guess, I keep going because I know what I want.’
‘Which is?’
‘To be someone. To make a difference.’
Lynny looked at me and frowned. ‘What if you can’t do both?’
‘Huh?’
‘If you can only have one, which one means more to you? Being someone or making a difference?’
My smile was broad as I looked at her. I couldn’t help it.
‘What’s so funny?’ Lynny asked.
‘Nothing. It’s just that you and me talking like this, it reminds me of the old days,’ I told her. ‘We used to have debates about anything and everything. I’ve missed our talks.’
Lynny smiled back at me, her smile waning as she said, ‘You haven’t answered my question, and don’t try to wriggle out of it! Which one means more – being someone or making a difference?’
‘I don’t know. Being someone, I guess. Having a large house and money in the bank and not having to work and being respected wherever I go. When I’m educated and I’ve got my own business, there won’t be a single person in the world who’ll be able to look down on me – nought or Cross.’
Lynny considered me carefully. ‘Being someone, eh? I would’ve put money on you choosing the other one!’
‘Well, what’s the point of making a difference if you’ve got nothing to show for it, if there’s not even any money in it?’ I asked.
Lynny shrugged. She had a strange expression on her face, like she was sad for me.
‘What about you? What keeps you going?’ I asked.
Lynette smiled, a strange, mysterious smile as her thoughts turned in on themselves and I was totally excluded.
‘Lynny?’ I prompted, uncertainly.
My sister stood up and headed for the door. I thought that was the end of the conversation but she turned to me, just before she left the room.
‘D’you wanna know what kept me going, Cal?’ Lynny sighed. ‘Being bonkers! I miss being insane . . .’
‘Lynny, don’t say that.’ I leapt up. ‘You were never insane.’
‘No? Then why do I feel so empty now. I know I was living in a fantasy world before, but at least . . . at least I was somewhere. Now I’m nowhere.’
‘That’s not true . . .’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Lynny, you are all right, aren’t you?’ But even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.
‘I’m fine. I just need to sort myself out.’ Lynny sighed deeply. ‘Callum, doesn’t any of this ever strike you as – pointless?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just what I said. Our being here – it works from the Crosses’ point of view, but what about our own? Because if this is all there is, we might as well be robots. We might as well not exist at all.’
‘Things will get better, Lynny,’ I tried.
‘D’you really believe that?’
‘Yeah. I mean, I’m at Heathcroft High, aren’t I? A few years ago that would’ve been impossible. Unthinkable.’
‘But none of their universities will take you.’
I shook my head. ‘You don’t know that. By the time I’m ready to leave school they might.’
‘And then what?’
‘I’ll get a good job. And I’ll be on my way up.’
‘Doing what?’
My frown deepened as I glared at my sister. ‘You sound just like Mum.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to.’ Lynny turned around to leave the room. ‘Just remember, Callum,’ she said, her back towards me, ‘when you’re floating up and up in your bubble, that bubbles have a habit of bursting. The higher you climb, the further you have to fall.’
Lynette left the room, without bothering to shut my door. I stood up and walked over to do it myself, still annoyed with her. Of all people my sister should not just understand my dreams but cheer them. Let down didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I was just about to slam my door shut when I caught sight of Lynny’s face as she closed her own bedroom door behind her. She was hurting inside. Hurting badly and close to tears. I stepped out onto the landing, wincing as my bare feet struck a nail not flush with the greying, warped floorboards. By the time I’d rubbed my toe and looked up again, Lynny had g
one.
thirty-three. Sephy
‘Minnie, can I come in?’
‘If you must,’ my sister said grudgingly.
I walked into her room, only to stop short when I saw my sister’s face. She’d been crying. I’d never seen my sister cry before. Ever.
‘Minnie, are you . .?’ I didn’t finish my question. I already knew the answer and besides, asking it would only have cheesed her off.
‘How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Minnie?’ my sister snapped. ‘My name is Minerva. M-I-N-E-R-V-A! Minerva!’
‘Yes, Minnie,’ I said.
Minnie looked at me and smiled reluctantly. ‘What d’you want, frog face?’ she asked.
I sat down on the chair in front of her dressing table. ‘I think Mother and Dad are going to get a divorce.’
‘That won’t happen,’ said Minnie.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘’Cause Dad’s been threatening Mother with a divorce for years – and it hasn’t happened yet.’ Minnie shrugged.
I thought for a moment. ‘But it was Mother who threatened it this time, not Dad.’
Minnie’s head snapped up at that. She stared at me.
‘D’you think they might then?’ I whispered.
Minnie shrugged and looked away again.
‘And what about our brother?’ I asked.
‘He’s not our brother. He’s just our dad’s son.’ Minnie stood up and walked over to her window. ‘And what about him?’
‘How do we find him?’
‘We don’t.’ Minnie looked at me like I’d lost my marbles.
‘But don’t you want to know who he is? What he looks like? Aren’t you curious?’
‘Of course not. I wasn’t curious about him three years ago when I found out about him, so why should I be curious now?’
‘Three years ago!’ I said, aghast. ‘You knew we had a brother three years ago? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Why would I do that?’ Minnie frowned. ‘What good would that have done? Dad had a fling before he met Mother and had a son. That’s all I know or want to know.’
I stared at my sister. It was like we were having two different conversations. She couldn’t see my point of view and I certainly couldn’t see hers.