Noughts and Crosses (16 page)

‘They’re not lies,’ I protested.

‘Who’s been filling your head with all this nonsense?’

‘It’s not nonsense. My dad told me.’

‘And where did your dad get it from?’

‘I . . . I . . .’ My voice trailed away.

‘Exactly!’ said Mr Jason. ‘Now go and stand outside the headmaster’s room. And don’t come back into this room until you’ve got all that nonsense out of your head and you’re ready to accept my teaching.’

I grabbed my bag and jumped to my feet, knocking my chair over in the process. I turned and glared at Sephy. Her gaze dropped away from mine almost at once. Not bothering to pick up my chair, I slammed out of the room. I knew that little act of defiance would probably
get me in even more trouble. But as I marched down the corridor towards Mr Costa’s room, I was so livid I was shaking. It wasn’t nonsense. It wasn’t lies. It was the truth. Centuries ago, Crosses had moved across northern and eastern Pangaea from the south, acquiring along the way the know-how to make the guns and weapons that made everyone else bow down to them. But that didn’t mean that what they did was right. We noughts had been their slaves for so long, and even though slavery had been formally abolished over half a century ago, I didn’t see that we were much better off. We were only just beginning to be let into their schools. The number of noughts in positions of authority in the country could be counted on the fingers of one hand – without including the thumb! It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t fair
.

And though I knew that nowhere was it written that life was meant to be fair, it still made my blood bubble to think about it. Why should I feel grateful to any of them just because they’d let me into one of their precious schools? What was the point? Maybe Mum and Jude were right. Maybe this was a complete waste of my time?

My steps slowed as I approached the school secretary’s room. Was I meant to stand in the corridor or go into the secretary’s office and wait outside the headmaster’s door. After dithering about for a few moments, I decided that Mr Jason probably wanted me to stand where I could get into the maximum amount of trouble. That meant standing right outside Mr Costa’s door. I peered in through the glass in the secretary’s door. She wasn’t there. That was something at any rate. I went in, carefully shutting the door behind me. I reckoned I’d slammed enough doors
that morning. I’d taken two steps into the office when quiet but angry voices floated out past Mr Costa’s slightly ajar door to meet me.

‘And I’m telling you that something needs to be done.’ It was Mrs Paxton’s voice. ‘How much longer are you going to let this situation continue?’

‘If the blankers are finding it tough here, then maybe they should go elsewhere,’ came Mr Costa’s reply.

I froze, not even breathing as I waited to hear what was said next.

‘Mr Costa, the
noughts
,’ Mrs Paxton stressed the word, ‘are being constantly picked on. It’s only a matter of time before one of them retaliates.’

‘Not in my school, they won’t,’ Mr Costa snapped back.

‘All I’m saying is, it’s up to us to lead from the front. If we teachers make it clear that such behaviour won’t be tolerated, then our students will have to follow our example.’

‘Mrs Paxton, are you really that naïve? Noughts are treated in this school exactly the same way as they’re treated outside . . .’

‘Then it’s up to us to make this school a haven, a sanctuary for Crosses and noughts. A place where we provide equality of education, equality of opportunity and equality of treatment.’

‘Oh, really. You’re making mountains out of gnat bites,’ Mr Costa dismissed.

‘Better to over-estimate the problems than ignore them altogether.’ Mrs Paxton was annoyed and making no attempts to hide it.

‘Enough! No-one wanted them here in the first place.’

‘I did,’ Mrs Paxton shot back. ‘And so did some of the other teachers and the government and . . .’

‘The government did as the Pangaean Economic Community ordered. They were afraid of sanctions and that was the only reason they did it.’

‘The reason doesn’t matter. The point is, they did it. We’ll reap what we sow, you mark my words. The noughts are here now and if we don’t act soon, this whole scheme will fail.’ Pause. ‘Or is that the point?’

Mrs Paxton was fighting a losing battle and she didn’t even know it. I couldn’t bear to listen to any more. I turned and tiptoed out, careful to shut the door behind me without making a sound. Less than a minute later, Mrs Paxton came striding out of the secretary’s office. She stopped abruptly when she saw me.

‘Callum, what’re you doing out here?’ Mrs Paxton frowned. ‘Callum?’

‘Mr Jason sent me out of the class, miss.’

‘Why?’

I bit my lip. My gaze dropped away from hers.

‘Why, Callum?’

‘We . . . we had an argument . . .’

Mrs Paxton waited for me to continue.

‘. . . about history.’

‘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.’

‘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 world.’

‘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.