Noughts and Crosses (17 page)

‘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.

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 gone.

‘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.

‘Minnie, don’t you even want to know our brother’s name?’

‘Stop calling him our brother. And no, I don’t.’

‘Well, I do. I’m going to ask Dad and . . .’

Minnie flew across the room and pulled me off my chair in about two seconds flat. ‘You’ll do no such thing, d’you hear?’

‘But Minnie . . .’

‘How d’you think Mother’d feel if you started asking about Dad’s son? She’s unhappy enough without you making it worse.’

‘OK! OK!’ Minnie let go of my arms. I immediately rubbed them to try to get the circulation going again.

‘Is that why she’s so unhappy? Because of . . . Dad’s son?’ I asked.

Minnie regarded me, considering her answer very carefully before she spoke. ‘That’s part of the reason.’

‘And the other part?’

‘She had an affair a while ago and . . .’

‘
Mother?
’ My eyes were open so wide they must surely plop onto my cheeks. ‘Mother had an affair?’

‘Don’t sound so surprised.’ Minnie smiled at my expression. ‘I think she only did it to make Dad sit up and take a bit more notice.’

‘Did it work?’

‘What d’you think?’ Minnie said, scornfully. ‘If anything it drove them further apart. And then Mum felt even more alone. She hasn’t got any friends, you know.’

‘What’re you talking about? She’s got friends dripping out of cupboards,’ I scoffed.

‘Not close ones. Not real friends that she can tell anything and everything to.’

‘She’s probably driven them all away with her funny moods,’ I sniffed. ‘One moment she’s pushing me away or acting as if I don’t exist and the next she wants to know about every minute of my day. If I didn’t have to live in the same house as her I wouldn’t put up with her either.’

‘She’s lonely,’ said Minnie.

‘Why doesn’t she just go out and make some new friends then?’ I asked.

Minnie smiled, one of her superior smiles that instantly ruffled my feathers. ‘You’re very young, Sephy.’

‘Don’t be patronizing,’ I fumed.

‘I’m not. I’m just stating a fact. And d’you know what I wish for you?’

‘What?’ I asked, expecting something unpleasant.

‘That you never grow older.’