‘No-one thumps my sister and gets away with it. No-one.’
‘Well, they did, and they have.’
‘I’ll find out who did this and when I do – they’ll be really, really sorry.’ And the look in my sister’s eyes told me that she was serious. Deadly serious. For the first time since the three pigs had started laying into me, I felt almost good. Minnie had never been on my side like this before. It was almost – but not quite – worth it if it meant Minnie and I would grow closer . . .
‘No-one touches a Hadley. No-one,’ Minnie stormed. ‘If they think they can get to you with no comeback, then it won’t be long before someone tries it on with me. I won’t have that.’
My tentative bubble of well-being was well and truly burst.
‘Go away, Minnie. Now!’ I shouted, the words slurred and blurred as they left my mouth. But even if the words were practically incomprehensible, the look on my face obviously wasn’t. Minnie stood up and slammed out of my bedroom without another word.
I closed my eyes, trying to find something to focus on besides the bruises all over my body. Callum . . . Even thinking of him didn’t bring me the comfort it usually did. No-one cared. Not about me – not about who I really was and what I thought and felt inside. What was it about me that made everyone turn away? Even my best friend had turned his back on me. I knew I was feeling well and truly sorry for myself, but I couldn’t help it. I had no-one now. I had nothing.
Ruddy noughts . . . This was all their fault. If it hadn’t been for them . . . And as for Lola and the others. I was going to get them, if it was the very last thing I did. I was going to get them – and good. I opened my eyes and stared out into nothing but hate. Minnie and I had a lot more in common than I’d ever imagined. And I wasn’t sorry either.
eighteen. Callum
Maths! This was something I could do! Something in this world I could make sense of. Mrs Paxton had already taken me to one side and told me that I would probably be moving to the top Maths stream for my own year after the Crossmas holidays. Mrs Paxton was one of the few Cross teachers who didn’t treat me like poo she wanted to scrape off her shoes. And she’d offered me extra lunch-time or early-morning tuition if I wanted it. I was on the last question of my sheet on simultaneous equations when a strange ripple swept through the classroom. I looked up.
Sephy.
My heart bounced about like it was pinging on elastic. Sephy was back. A whole five days without seeing her. A whole five days with no word from her. She looked OK. Maybe one cheek was a little puffy but otherwise just the same as before. Except for her eyes. She looked everywhere but directly at me.
‘Welcome back, Persephone,’ smiled Mrs Paxton.
‘Thank you.’ Sephy’s smile was fleeting.
‘Take a seat.’ Already Mrs Paxton was turning back to the whiteboard.
Sephy looked around, as did everyone else. The only free seat was next to me. Sephy looked at me, then immediately looked away again. Her gaze swept around the room. I bent my head. Another ripple spread round the room. Mrs Paxton turned around.
‘Is something wrong, Persephone?’
‘There’s nowhere for me to sit, Mrs Paxton,’ Sephy said quietly.
‘There’s a seat next to Callum. Er . . . that’s quite enough noise from the rest of you. Get on with your work,’ Mrs Paxton called out against the rising tide of voices.
‘But Mrs Bawden said I wasn’t to sit with any of the noughts . . .’
‘Mrs Bawden meant at lunch-time,’ Mrs Paxton declared. ‘There’s only one spare seat left in the class and unless you’d rather sit on the floor, I suggest you use it.’
Dragging her feet, Sephy came and sat down next to me, drawing her chair away as she did so. And she didn’t look at me once. Inside, my guts were melting.
‘OK, who’s finished the first equation?’ Mrs Paxton said.
A few hands went up. Mine stayed down. I wanted to look at Sephy but I didn’t dare.
Clasp my hands together. Bow my head. Close my eyes.
I know . . . I know noughts aren’t really supposed to believe in you or pray to you because you’re really the God of the Crosses, but please, please don’t let anything or anyone come between me and Sephy. I’m begging you. Please. If you’re up there.
nineteen. Sephy
Jeez! Time crawled like it was dragging a blue whale behind it. That sounded like something Callum would say. I smiled, but it died almost immediately. Something Callum would say – when he used to talk to me. When he used to be my friend. Mrs Paxton was blathering on about simultaneous equations like they were the best thing since computers were invented. And every word was flying zip-zap straight over my head! When was the bell going to sound? Come on . . . Come on . . . At last!
I didn’t even take time to gather up my books. I just swept the whole lot into my school bag.
‘Sephy, wait.’
I hovered in between sitting and standing, looking like a hen trying to hatch an egg. Slowly, I sat back down.
‘How are you? Are you OK now?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ I still couldn’t look at him. I went to stand up again. Callum’s hand on my forearm stopped me. He immediately removed it. He couldn’t even bear to touch me.
‘I’m glad,’ he whispered.
‘Are you?’ I turned to him. ‘You could’ve fooled me.’
‘What does that mean?’
My hands itched to knock the bewildered look off his face. Just who did Callum think he was fooling? I glanced around the room. Others were listening intently even though they were trying to pretend they weren’t. I lowered my voice so only Callum would hear what I was going to say. And I was determined it’d be the last thing I ever said to him.
‘Don’t pretend you were worried about me,’ I told him. ‘You didn’t come to see me once. You didn’t even send me a Get Well Soon card.’
Callum’s face cleared. He leaned forward, also aware of our audience. ‘I came to see you every day. Every single day,’ he whispered. ‘Your mum gave orders that I wasn’t to be let in. I stood outside your gates every afternoon after school. Ask your mum . . . no, ask her secretary Sarah if you don’t believe me.’
Silence.
‘You came to see me?’
‘Every day?’
‘Really?’
‘Ask Sarah . . .’
I didn’t need to ask Sarah.
‘Sephy, wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.’
We regarded each other, our expressions equally sombre.
‘I have to go now.’ I stood up. We were attracting way too much attention. Callum stood up too.
‘Look, meet me in our special place after dinner tonight. We can’t talk here.’
I turned to walk away.
‘Sephy, if you’re not there, I’ll understand,’ Callum whispered.
twenty. Callum
She wasn’t going to show. Why should she after everything she’d been through? After I’d let her down? Be truthful. What I did in the food hall wasn’t for Sephy’s own good or even my own. It was because I was scared. Scared of standing out, scared of being invisible. Scared of seeming too big, scared of being too small. Scared of being with Sephy, scared of being away from her. No jokes, no prevarications, no sarcasm, no lies. Just scared scared scared.
God only knew how tired I was of being afraid all the time. When was it going to stop?
‘Hello, Callum.’
Sephy’s voice behind me had me whipping around to face her.
‘Hi. Hello. How are you?’
‘Fine.’ She turned to look out over the sea. ‘Isn’t it a lovely evening?’
‘Is it? I hadn’t noticed.’ My gaze followed hers. She was right. It was beautiful. The sky was on fire and the waves broke relentlessly silver and white on the rocky beach. But I turned away from it. I had other things on my mind.
‘Persephone, you have to believe me. I did come to visit you, I swear . . .’
‘I know you did.’ Sephy
smiled at me.
I frowned. ‘You spoke to Sarah?’
‘Didn’t have to.’ Sephy shrugged.
‘I don’t understand. Why didn’t you talk to Sarah?’
‘Because I believed you.’
I looked at Sephy carefully then and realized that the old Sephy, my Sephy, was back. Relief whirled through me on angel’s wings. Such relief that my body actually shook with it.
‘Besides, it sounds like just the sort of thing my mother would do,’ Sephy sniffed.
I wanted to ask her what and where and how, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to push my luck. We stood for a while, just being. But the need to explain by way of apology gnawed away at me, eating a bigger hole in my insides with each passing moment.
‘I’m sorry I missed our trip to Celebration Park last Saturday,’ Sephy sighed. ‘I was looking forward to that.’
‘Never mind. We’ve been there before and we’ll go again.’ I shrugged.
Pause.
‘Sephy, do you remember the last time we went to Celebration Park?’
Sephy frowned. ‘When we had our summer picnic?’
I nodded.
‘Yeah, of course I remember. What about it?’
‘What d’you remember?’ I asked.
Sephy shrugged. ‘We travelled up by train. We went to the park, found a secluded spot, had our picnic, played silly games, came home – the end of a lovely day.’
‘Is that how you remember it?’
‘Of course. Why?’
I studied Sephy, wondering if she was telling the truth. Or was it simply a case of the truth as she saw it, where her vision wasn’t and never would be the same as mine. A lovely day . . . Was that really all she remembered? How strange. My memory of the day was slightly different . . .
THE PICNIC
twenty-one. Sephy
We had a wonderful day together, the day we went to Celebration Park. I’d lied and told Mother that I was spending the day with Helena’s family. I knew Mother wouldn’t check. Helena’s family were almost as rich as us and in my mother’s mind that meant that I couldn’t be lying. I mean, why would I lie about spending the day with one of the richest but most boring girls in my class? In my class? In the northern hemisphere more like. Helena’s family were ‘like us’ – as Mother was fond of saying. I could spend as much time with her as I liked.
So I’d lied. And met Callum at the train station instead. The park was wonderful. The whole day was just brilliant.
Except for the train journey . . .
twenty-two. Callum
I hadn’t been sure if Sephy was going to show. But then I was never sure – and she always did turn up. And every time she did show, I’d tell myself, ‘See! You should have more faith in her.’ And then I’d answer myself, ‘Next time. Next time I will.’
But next time always found me wondering if this would be the day that Sephy wouldn’t be able to make it. Unfair as it was, I wondered each time if today was the day that Sephy was going to let me down.
‘Penny for them.’ Sephy’s voice sounded in my ears at the exact same time as her bony, pointy fingers prodded me in my kidneys, making me jump.
‘Jeez, Sephy. I do wish you wouldn’t do that.’
‘You love it!’ Sephy’s grin was huge as she walked around me.
‘No, I don’t actually.’
‘I see you’re in one of your sunshine moods.’
I took a deep breath and smiled. It wasn’t me, it was my doubts snapping at her. And she was here now. She was here.
twenty-three. Sephy
One of these days, Callum’s going to forget himself and actually look pleased to see me.
I just won’t hold my breath whilst I’m waiting, that’s all.
‘There’s your ticket.’ I handed it over to Callum. I’d raided my bank account to get enough to buy two first-class tickets. I could’ve asked Mother for the money, or Sarah, but then they would’ve wanted to know exactly why I wanted it. No, this was much better. It made the day ‘ours’ somehow, because the money was mine and nothing to do with my mother or anyone else. I smiled. ‘This day is going to be perfect.’
I could feel it in my water.
twenty-four. Callum
The train journey from hell, that’s what it was. A journey which ruined the rest of the day as far as I was concerned. We were on our way to Celebration Park. There were only three more stops to go – when they got on. Police officers on a routine inspection. Two of them, boredom plastered over their faces.
‘ID passes please. ID passes please.’
Sephy looked surprised. I wasn’t. We both dug out our ID cards as they made their way up the first-class train carriage. I watched the cursory glances they gave the ID passes of all the Crosses in the carriage. I was the only nought. Would they stop and ask me lots of questions? Huh! Is pig poo smelly?
An officer of trim build and sporting a pencil-thin moustache stood right in front of me. He looked at me then took my ID pass without a word.
‘Name?’ he snapped out.
What’s the matter? Can’t you read?
‘Callum McGregor.’
‘Age?’
‘Fifteen.’
Can’t read numbers either, huh? That’s too bad.
‘Where are you going?’
None of your business.
‘Celebration Park.’
‘Why?’
To cut my toenails.
‘Picnic.’
‘Where d’you live?’
On the moon.
‘Meadowview.’ Meadowview by euphemistic name only. Rubbishshackview would’ve been more appropriate. The officer looked from my ID card to my face and back again. My thumbprint was on the card. Was he going to break out a magnifying glass and ask me to hold out my right hand so he could compare the imprint on the card to my print? It wouldn’t’ve surprised me.
‘You’re a long way from home, boy.’
I bit down on the inside of my bottom lip, not trusting myself to speak. Both officious officials stood in front of me now. There was barely enough room to get a paperclip between their legs and my knees. I sighed.
Ladies and gentlemen, for your delectation and delight, another performance of ‘You’re a nought and don’t you ever forget it, blanker boy.’
‘Let me see your ticket.’
I handed it over.
‘Where did you get the money to buy this kind of ticket?’
I looked up at them, but didn’t speak. What was there to say? They had the scent of blood in their nostrils and I didn’t stand a chance, no matter what I said or did. So why bother?
‘I asked you a question,’ Moustaches reminded me.
As if I’d forgotten.
‘Did you buy this ticket?’ Moustache’s accomplice asked.
The truth or prevarication? What was Sephy thinking? I couldn’t see her. The no-brain brothers were in the way. If only I could see her face.
‘I asked you a question, boy. Did you buy this ticket?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ I replied.
‘Come with us, please.’
Time to get my posterior pummelled. Time to get my derrière dealt with. Time to get my bum bounced right off the train.
How dare a nought sit in first class? It’s outrageous. It’s a scandal. It’s disgusting. Disinfect that seat at once.
‘Officer, he’s with me. I bought the tickets.’ Sephy was on her feet. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘And you are?’
‘Persephone Hadley. My dad’s the Home Office Minister, Kamal Hadley. Callum is my friend,’ Sephy said firmly.
‘He is?’
‘Yes, he is.’ Sephy’s voice had a steely tone to it that I’d never heard before. Not from her anyway.
‘I see,’ said Moustaches.
‘I can give you my father’s private phone number. I’m sure he’ll sort all this out in a moment. Or you’ll be able to talk to Juno Ayelette, his personal secretary.’
Careful, Se
phy. I’m tripping over all those names you’re dropping.
‘So is there a problem, Officer?’ repeated Sephy.
Sniff! Sniff! Was I imagining things or was there the definite hint of a threat in the air? And I wasn’t the only one to smell it. Moustaches handed back my ID pass.
‘Would you like to see my ID as well?’ Sephy held out her pass.
‘That won’t be necessary, Miss Hadley.’ Moustaches almost bowed.
‘I really don’t mind.’ Sephy thrust it under Moustaches’ nose.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Moustaches repeated, looking straight at Sephy. He didn’t even glance at her ID card.
Sephy sat back down again. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’
She turned to look out of the window. Moustaches was effectively dismissed. Sephy’s mother would’ve been proud. Moustaches glared at me like it was my fault. He’d been humiliated, and by a child no less, and he wanted to take it out on someone. Sephy was off-limits, and now, so was I. He was burning to re-establish his authority but he couldn’t. Not with us anyway. Moustaches and his colleague moved off down the carriage. Sephy turned to me and winked.
‘You OK?’ she asked.
‘Fine,’ I lied. ‘Wasn’t that fun?’
‘Not so as you’d notice.’ Sephy’s gaze returned to the passing scenery. ‘But I’m not going to let them or anyone else ruin my day. Celebration Park, here we come!’
I turned to look out of the window. I didn’t want to look at Sephy. Not yet. I didn’t want to blame her for the way the police treated me and every other nought I knew. I didn’t want to hold her responsible for the way security guards and store detectives followed me around every time I entered a department store. And I’d stopped going into bookshops and toy shops and gift shops when I realized that no matter where I went in them, all eyes were upon me. After all, it was one of those well-known Cross-initiated facts that we noughts didn’t pay for anything when there was the chance of stealing it instead. I didn’t want to resent Sephy for the way my education was automatically assumed to be less important than hers. I didn’t want to hate her because she was a Cross and different to me. So I carried on looking out of the window, pushing the knot of loathing deeper inside me. Deeper and deeper. The way I always did.