Did I really believe that?
I didn’t know what I believed any more.
fourteen. Callum
I don’t know how long I sat there, watching the sun burn into the sky as it set, watching the night grow steadily more secretive. Why had my life suddenly become so complicated? For the last year all I could think about, or even dream about, was going to school. Sephy’s school. I was so busy concentrating on getting into Heathcroft that I hadn’t given much thought to what I’d do when I actually got there. I hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to be so . . . unwanted. And what was the point anyway? It wasn’t as if I’d get a decent job after it. No Cross would ever employ me for more than the most mundane, menial job, so why bother? But I wanted to learn. A yawning hole deep inside me was begging to be filled up with words and thoughts and ideas and facts and fictions. But if I did that, what would I do with the rest of my life? What would I be? How could I ever be truly happy knowing that I could do so much more, be so much more, than I would ever be allowed?
I was trying so hard to understand how and why things were the way they were. The Crosses were meant to be closer to God. The Good Book said so. The son of God was dark-skinned like them, had eyes like them, had hair like them. The Good Book said so. But the Good Book said a lot of things. Like ‘love thy neighbour’, and ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’. If nothing else, wasn’t the whole message of the Good Book to live and let live? So how could the Crosses call themselves ‘God’s chosen’ and still treat us the way they did? OK, we weren’t their slaves any more, but Dad said the name had changed but nothing else. Dad didn’t believe in the Good Book. Neither did Mum. They said it’d been written and translated by Crosses, so it was bound to be biased in their favour. But the truth was the truth, wasn’t it? Noughts . . . Even the word was negative. Nothing. Nil. Zero. Nonentities. It wasn’t a name we’d chosen for ourselves. It was a name we’d been given. But why?
‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND . . .’ The words erupted from me in an angry rush, heading for the sky and beyond.
I sat there for I don’t know how long, furious thoughts darting around my head like bluebottles, my head aching, my chest hurting. Until I suddenly snapped out of it with a jolt. Someone was watching me. I turned sharply and a shock like static electricity zapped through my body. Sephy was further up the beach, standing perfectly still as the wind whipped around her, making her jacket and skirt billow out. We were about seven metres apart – or seven million light years, depending on how you looked at it. Then Sephy turned around and started to walk away.
‘Sephy, wait.’ I jumped to my feet and sprinted after her.
She carried on walking.
‘Sephy, please. Wait.’ I caught up with her and pulled her around to face me. She pulled away from my grasp like I was contaminated.
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t be like that?’ I pleaded.
‘Like what?’
I glared at her. ‘Aren’t you going to stay?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
At first, I thought she wasn’t going to answer.
‘I don’t stay where I’m not wanted.’ Sephy turned around again. I ran to stand in front of her.
‘I did it for your own good.’
A strange expression flitted across her face. ‘Did you? Was it my good or your own you were thinking about?’
‘Maybe a bit of both,’ I admitted.
‘Maybe a lot of one and none of the other,’ Sephy contradicted.
‘I’m sorry – OK?’
‘So am I. I’ll see you, Callum.’ Sephy tried to walk around me again, but I moved directly into her path. Fear tore at my insides. If she left now, that would be the end. Funny how a few hours ago, that’d been exactly what I was wishing for.
‘Sephy, wait!’
‘For what?’
‘H-how about if you and I go up to Celebration Wood this Saturday? We could have a picnic.’
Sephy’s eyes lit up although she tried her best to hide it. I breathed an inward sigh of relief although I was careful not to show it.
‘Celebration Wood . .?’
‘Yeah. Just you and me.’
‘Are you sure you won’t be ashamed to be seen with me?’ Sephy asked.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Sephy regarded me. ‘What time shall I meet you?’ she said at last.
‘How about ten-thirty at the train station? I’ll meet you on the platform.’
‘OK.’ Sephy turned away.
‘Where’re you going?’ I asked.
‘Home.’
‘Why don’t you stay a while?’
‘I don’t want to disturb you.’
‘Sephy, get off it,’ I snapped.
‘Get off what? You’re a snob, Callum. And I never realized it until today,’ Sephy snapped back, just as angry. ‘I thought you were better than that, above all that nonsense. But you’re just like anyone else. “Crosses and noughts shouldn’t be seen together. Crosses and noughts shouldn’t be friends. Crosses and noughts shouldn’t even live on the same planet together”.’
‘That’s rubbish!’ I fumed. ‘I don’t believe any of that, you know I don’t.’
‘Do I?’ Sephy tilted her head to one side as she continued to scrutinize me. ‘Well, if you’re not a snob, you’re a hypocrite, which is even worse. I’m OK to talk to as long as no-one can see us, as long as no-one knows.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that . . .’
‘Why? Does the truth hurt?’ asked Sephy. ‘Which one is it, Callum? Are you a snob or a hypocrite?’
‘Get lost, Sephy.’
‘With pleasure.’
And this time, when Sephy walked away I didn’t try to stop her. I just watched her leave.
fifteen. Sephy
There’s a proverb which says, ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it!’ I never really knew what that meant – until now. All those months helping Callum with his work so he’d pass the Heathcroft entrance exam. All those nights wishing on every blazing star that Callum would pass so we could go to the same school together, be in the same class together even. And now it’d all come true.
And it was horrible. Everything was going wrong.
I sighed, then sighed again. I couldn’t hide in this toilet cubicle for ever. And who was I hiding from anyway? I was hiding from all those people who’d been pointing and whispering as I walked past them in the school corridor – but mainly from Callum. After what had happened the previous evening, I was afraid to face him. I was so afraid he wouldn’t be my friend any more. So if I didn’t see him, I could pretend that nothing between us had changed. But I couldn’t sit on the toilet lid for ever. The bell rang for the end of break-time. I stood up and took a deep breath.
‘OK . . . Here goes . . .’ I muttered to myself.
I drew back the bolt and opened the cubicle door. I was just stepping out of the cubicle when it happened. Lola, Joanne and Dionne from Mrs Watson’s class in the year above mine, pushed me back into the cubicle and crowded in after me.
‘We want to have a word with you,’ Lola began.
‘And it has to be in here, does it?’ I asked.
Joanne shoved me so hard, I had to put out my hand to stop myself from toppling over.
‘We heard about what you did yesterday . . .’ Joanne said.
‘I did a lot of things yesterday.’ My heart began to thump in my chest, but I wasn’t about to give these three the satisfaction of knowing I was scared.
‘In the food hall,’ Joanne continued. ‘You sat on the blankers table.’
‘What’s it to you?’ I asked.
Lola slapped my face. Shocked, my hand flew to my stinging cheek. It wasn’t that she’d slapped me particularly hard, it was just that no-one had ever hit me before. Not even Minerva, my sister.
‘I don’t care if your dad is God Almighty himself,’ Lola told me. ‘Stick to your own kind. If
you sit with the blankers again, everyone in this school will treat you like one of them.’
‘You need to wake up and check which side you’re on,’ added Joanne.
‘Why d’you want to be around them anyway?’ Dionne piped up. ‘They smell funny and they eat peculiar foods and everyone knows that none of them are keen to make friends with soap and water.’
‘What a load of rubbish!’ The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. ‘Callum has a wash every day and he doesn’t smell. None of them do.’
Dionne, Jo and Lola all looked at each other.
Lola pushed me down so I ended up sitting down on the toilet lid looking up at them.
Any second now the door will open and someone will come in . . . Callum will come in and stop them. He’ll pull them off me and sort them out. Any second now . . .
I tried to get to my feet but Lola pushed me down again and kept her hand on my shoulder, her fingers biting into my skin.
‘We’re only going to say this once,’ Lola told me icily. ‘Choose who your friends are very carefully. If you don’t stay away from those blankers, you’ll find you don’t have a single friend left in this school.’
‘Why d’you hate them so much?’ I asked, bewildered. ‘I bet none of you has even spoken to a nought before.’
‘Of course we have,’ Joanne piped up. ‘I’ve spoken to blankers lots of times – when they serve us in shops and restaurants . . .’
‘And there are some working in our own food hall . . .’
‘Yeah, that’s right. And besides we don’t need to speak to them. We see them on the news practically every other day. Everyone knows they all belong to the Liberation Militia and all they do is cause trouble and commit crimes and stuff like that . . .’
I stared at them, astounded. They can’t really be serious, I thought. But they could obviously read what I was thinking all over my face.
‘The news doesn’t lie,’ Lola told me huffily.
‘The news lies all the time. They tell us what they think we want to hear,’ I said. Callum had told me that and at the time I didn’t fully understand what he meant. But I did now.
‘Who told you that?’ Joanne’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your dad?’
‘I bet it was one of her blanker friends,’ Lola said with scorn. ‘They’re blank by name and blank by nature.’
‘What d’you mean?’ I asked.
‘Blank, white faces with not a hint of colour in them. Blank minds which can’t hold a single original thought. Blank, blank, blank,’ Lola recited. ‘That’s why they serve us and not the other way around.’
‘You ought to sell that horse manure worldwide. It’s quality stuff. You’d make a fortune!’ I sprung up. ‘Noughts are people, just like us. You’re the ones who are stupid and ignorant and . . .’
Lola gave me another slap around my face for that, but this time I was ready for it. Win or lose they weren’t going to get away with it. I made a fist, drew it back and punched Lola in the stomach. She doubled over with an ‘Oof!’ I struck out with my elbows and my fists and my feet all at the same time, trying to make as many of my blows count before they could react. I had the element of surprise on my side, but not for long. Joanne and Lola each grabbed a flailing arm whilst Dionne straightened up to glare down at me. Dionne was the best fighter in her year and everyone knew it. But if she was expecting me to beg or cry, she’d have a long wait. She gave me a slow smile of satisfaction.
‘Blanker-lover . . . You’ve had this coming for a long time,’ she said softly.
And then she let me have it.
THE TURNING
sixteen. Callum
‘Callum, wait.’
It was the end of another lousy school day where the most obvious lesson I’d learnt was how much the Crosses despised and resented us. I tried to tell myself that only a few Crosses had bashed into me; it wasn’t all of them by any means, but that didn’t help much. I mean, it wasn’t exactly as if any of the other Crosses had tried to stop it either.
‘Callum, hold on. WAIT!’
I turned and watched Shania race towards me, her school bag slapping up and down against her side.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Have you heard?’ Shania puffed.
‘Heard what?’
‘About Sephy?’
‘What about Sephy?’
‘She’s been beaten up,’ Shania said with relish. ‘She was found crying in the girls’ toilets, the ones next to the library.’
My heart stopped. I swear it did. Just for a second, but it did stop. I stared at Shania. I couldn’t have said a word then if my life had depended on it.
‘Serve her right!’ Shania said with glee. ‘Coming over to our table and acting like the big “I am”.’
‘She didn’t. It wasn’t like that.’ Was that really my voice, so hollow and cold?
‘Of course it was. She wanted to lord it over us, a little kid like that sitting at our table. Well, we didn’t have to teach her a thing or two; her own kind did it for us.’
I shook my head. ‘What’re you talking about?’
‘Just ’cause her dad’s in the government, that Sephy Hadley thought she’d play Lady Magnanimous and sit with us. I bet she went and scrubbed her hand after I shook it.’ Shania sniffed.
‘W-where is she now?’
‘They sent for her mum but no-one knew where she was so the chauffeur came to pick her up instead. Her mum was probably having her nails . . .’
I didn’t bother to listen to any more. I walked away whilst Shania was in mid-sentence.
‘Hey, Callum. Wait for me. D’you fancy an ice-cream at the . .?’
I started to run until my legs were moving so quickly, my feet scarcely touched the ground. I ran and ran and I didn’t stop until I was at the Hadley’s. I pressed on the bell and kept my finger on it for the fifteen or twenty seconds it took for someone to open the front door.
‘Yes?’ Sarah Pike, Mrs Hadley’s secretary, opened the door and glared at me with angry suspicion.
‘I want to see Sephy – please.’
‘I’m afraid the doctor said she’s not to be disturbed.’ Sarah tried to shut the door in my face. I stuck my foot in the door.
‘I want to see Sephy. Is she all right?’
‘She’s badly bruised and very upset. The doctor has advised that she be kept at home for the rest of the week.’
‘What happened? Why . .?’ I didn’t get any further.
‘Who is it, Sarah?’ At the sound of Mrs Hadley’s voice, Sarah almost broke my foot in her haste to shut the door. I pushed back and Sarah had to spring back to stop the door from walloping the side of her head. Mrs Hadley stopped on the stairs when she saw me. She recognized me at once.
‘You’re the McGregor boy, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right, Mrs Hadley.’ She didn’t have to say that. She knew who I was all right.
‘What can I do for you?’ Her voice dripped with frost.
‘I just heard what happened. I’d like to see Sephy, please.’
‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough.’ At my blank expression, Mrs Hadley went on, ‘I believe my daughter was beaten up for sitting at your lunch table yesterday. You must be so proud of yourself.’
I shook my head. The words wouldn’t come. I tried to think of something, anything to say – but what?
‘And as I understand it, you turned your back on her and told her to go away,’ said Mrs Hadley. ‘Is that right?’
Mrs Hadley didn’t understand. No-one understood. Not even Sephy. ‘Should I have let her sit at our table for longer then? I knew this was going to happen. That’s why I didn’t want her sitting with us. That’s the only reason.’
‘So you say.’ Mrs Hadley turned around and started to go back up the stairs.
‘If I’d welcomed her on to our table with open arms, you’d have been the first to condemn her and me as well,’ I shouted after her.
‘Sarah, see this . . . boy o
ut. And make sure he doesn’t set foot in my house again.’ Mrs Hadley issued her orders without even turning around. She just carried on walking up the stairs in her ladylike, unhurried fashion.
‘Please let me see Sephy,’ I begged her.
‘You’re going to have to go now,’ Sarah told me apologetically.
‘Please . . .’
‘I’m sorry.’ Sarah gently but firmly kicked my foot back and shut the door.
I rubbed a weary hand over my face which was dripping with perspiration. No-one understood. No-one.
Least of all – me.
seventeen. Sephy
There was absolutely nothing on the telly. What a choice! Silly cartoons, a brainless quiz game, the news or a war film. With a sigh I plumped for the news. I looked at the screen without really watching it. The newsreader finished the story of a banker who’d been sent to prison for fraud and was now talking about three nought robbers who’d smashed in the front of an exclusive jewellery store and made off on motorbikes with gems and jewellery and watches worth close to a million. Why was it that when noughts committed criminal acts, the fact that they were noughts was always pointed out? The banker was a Cross. The newsreader didn’t even mention it.
‘Who did it?’
I turned to face my sister, Minnie.
‘Who was it, Sephy?’ she repeated. ‘Who beat you up? ’Cause whoever it was, I’ll kill them.’
I shook my head, switching off the telly before turning away. Go away, Minnie, I thought.
Her outrage was comforting, if more than a little surprising. But all I wanted was to be left alone. There were about three eyelashes over each eye that didn’t hurt. The rest of my body ached like blazes. And the last thing I wanted to do was open my sore, bruised lips to speak.
‘How many of them were there?’
I held up three fingers.
‘Would you recognize them if you saw them again?’
I shrugged.
‘Would you?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Go away.’ I was talking like my mouth was full of stones – and sharp, jagged ones at that.