Noughts and Crosses (21 page)

‘Minerva! Persephone! I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you both so much. Come and give me a hug.’

Minnie and I glanced at each other before doing as we’d been asked. Mother hugged Minnie, then gave me a bear hug which left me breathless.

‘I love both of you so much,’ she told us, her voice trembling with emotion. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

Minnie nodded, embarrassed.

‘We love you too, Mother,’ I said, feeling very uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to Mother saying such things. Jeez! I wasn’t used to Mother saying much of anything.

‘I know you love me.’ Mother pulled me to her to kiss both my cheeks. It was only by a supreme effort that I didn’t wipe my face the moment she released me.

‘You’re the only ones who care whether I live or die,’ Mother continued. The gratitude in her voice made me
feel incredibly uncomfortable – and guilty. Had Dad been to see her yet?

‘Your friends would visit you too, if you told them you were in here,’ Minnie pointed out.

‘
NO
! No. I don’t want anyone . . . No. I’ll see them when I leave.’

‘When will that be?’

‘When I’m all better,’ Mother announced brightly. Too brightly. Minnie and I exchanged another look.

‘Are you coming to see me tomorrow?’ Mother asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Minnie said.

‘Do me a favour? Could you bring me my make-up bag? I feel naked without my make-up.’

‘OK, Mother,’ Minnie said, quietly.

Mother was still smiling, a frantic almost manic look on her face. ‘Oh, and a bottle of champagne – to celebrate my lucky escape,’ Mother laughed.

‘Champagne?’

‘Yes, of course. Or failing that, some white wine will do.’

‘Mother, I don’t think that’s a good idea . . .’

‘Just do as you’re told.’ The first crack appeared in Mother’s mask. She plastered it over with a broad smile. ‘Sorry, love. I’m a bit on edge. If you don’t help me Minnie, no-one else will. Y-your father hasn’t even been to see me. Not a phone call. Not so much as a Get Well Soon card.’ An even wider smile than before. ‘So I’m celebrating. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. So bring me what I asked for – OK, sweetie?’

‘OK, Mother.’

‘Good girl.’

‘I love you, Minerva.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

‘My two best girls.’ Mother leaned back with a smile. Her smile faded into a look of such intense sadness that I could hardly bear to look at her. ‘Here’s a little life lesson for my two best girls. Never make a mistake because it will never be forgiven. Or forgotten. Never put a foot out and you’ll never put a foot wrong.’

‘I don’t understand, Mother,’ Minerva frowned.

‘I made a mistake once.’ Mother’s eyes were closed now and her voice was faraway and dreamy. ‘I did something I shouldn’t’ve. But I was lonely. Your father was never at home and I was so tired of being alone. But he found out. I made a mistake you see. And I’ve never stopped paying for it.’

‘Mother, it doesn’t . . .’

‘So don’t be like me.’ Mother opened her eyes and smiled brightly. ‘Be perfect. My perfect little girls. I love you so much.’

I bent down, untying my shoelace so that I could tie it up again. A single tear splashed down onto my shoe. But Mother didn’t see it.

So that was OK.

‘I’m going out.’ Mum pulled on her jacket as she spoke.

‘Where?’ Dad stood up from the table where he’d been poring over some kind of map with Jude.

‘For a walk.’ The front door was now open.

‘Meggie, how much longer are you going to carry on like this?’ said Dad.

‘Like what?’ asked Mum, her back to us.

Jude and I exchanged a glance. Lynette’s funeral was over three months ago now and Dad wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Most nights Mum had taken to going for long walks, returning long after I’d gone to bed and was meant to be asleep. Crossmas had come and gone in our house without much cheer. The new year had started and here we all were, occupying opposite ends of the compass.

Dad sighed, exasperated. ‘Meggie, why won’t you talk to us? To me?’

Mum turned, her eyes ablaze. ‘Will you give that up?’ she asked, pointing to the long map spread out all over our table.

‘No.’

‘Then we have nothing to say to each other.’

‘Meggie . . .’

Mum headed out of the door, slamming it shut behind her.

‘What’s going on, Dad?’ I asked.

Dad was still staring at the front door. I doubt if he even heard me. I tried to move closer to the table but Jude rolled up the map before I had a chance to take a good look at it. I did see enough of it this time though to realize that it wasn’t just a map; it was a blueprint.

‘Come on, Jude, we’ve got work to do,’ Dad said grimly.

‘Where’re you going, Dad?’ I asked.

‘Out.’

‘Out where?’ I asked.

‘To a meeting.’

‘What meeting?’

‘None of your business,’ Dad replied tersely, pulling on his coat.

‘Where is it?’

‘That’s none of your business either.’

Jude ran a large elastic band around the now rolled up blueprint and went to join Dad. He put the blueprint down by his feet and put on his jacket which was hanging on a hook by the door. There was no way he was going to let that blueprint out of his sight. I regarded both Jude and Dad, standing together at the front door looking in every way like father and son – and I felt totally excluded.

‘How come Jude gets to go with you and I don’t?’

‘Because you’re not old enough,’ said Dad.

Jude snorted and muttered something under his breath. At Dad’s warning look he shut up. What were both of them up to? A house of secrets, that’s what my home had
become. Mum had withdrawn to a place where none of us were able to reach her. And on top of that, Jude and Dad were doing something where I wasn’t wanted.

And I missed Lynette so much.

She never said very much and goodness knows she never did much but it was like she was the glue that kept our family together and now that she was gone we were each floating further and further away from one another.

Something else to hate my sister for.

‘Please let me come with you,’ I pleaded.

I didn’t know where Mum was and I didn’t want to be on my own. I needed to belong somewhere, to something, to someone.

‘No way,’ Jude shot out before Dad could open his mouth.

‘I won’t be any trouble.’

‘Yeah, right!’ Jude scoffed.

Dad walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘Callum, where we’re going you can’t follow.’

‘Why not? If Jude’s old enough to belong to the Liberation Militia then so am I.’

‘What?’ Dad spun around. ‘Jude, you stupid boy. What’ve you been saying? You know we’re not meant . . .’

‘I didn’t say anything, Dad. I swear,’ Jude denied vehemently.

‘Jude didn’t tell me,’ I said.

‘Then who did?’ Dad asked brusquely.

‘No-one. I worked it out for myself. I’m not stupid,’ I told him. ‘So can I come with you now?’

‘No way. We’re going to a Liberation Militia meeting
and you’re too young. Besides, if you were seen it’d be the end of your school career. Is that what you want?’

‘I don’t care. I’m just wasting my time at Heathcroft and everyone knows it.’ I shrugged away from Dad’s hand. ‘Colin’s dropped out and Shania’s been expelled for no reason and everyone’s taking bets on how much longer Amu and I are going to be there. Besides, I was thinking of leaving anyway.’

‘Over my dead body,’ Dad flared up at once. ‘You are going to school and you’ll stay at school until you’re eighteen and then you’ll go on to university. Do I make myself clear?’

I looked away from him, my lips firmly together.

‘Callum, I asked you a question.’ Dad grabbed my chin and forced my face around till I had no choice but to look directly at him. ‘You will not leave school without any qualifications. Understand?’

‘Yeah, OK.’ I mumbled.

Dad headed for the door, beckoning to Jude as he did so.

‘And don’t bother blabbing to your dagger friend about us being in the Liberation Militia,’ Jude hissed at me. ‘Not unless you want to put a noose around our necks.’

Both Dad and Jude left the house without a backward glance and once again I was alone.

Minnie was reading one of those ‘ten ways to get your man’ women’s magazines that are incredibly, tediously boring! But Minnie’s sixteen – two years older than me – so I guessed it was only a matter of time before I started reading that stuff too. Right now though, I had other things on my mind. I licked my lips, nervously.

‘Minnie, what are we going to do?’

‘What d’you mean?’

My sister was being either really thick or really evasive.

‘Mother. Her drinking’s getting worse,’ I said.

‘She’s just smoothing out the rough edges,’ Minnie smiled wryly as she answered with Mother’s often repeated line, trotted out whenever we tried to bring up the subject of her drinking.

‘Any smoother and she won’t have to walk places, she’ll just roll,’ I frowned.

‘You tell her that,’ Minnie challenged.

My sister was no use at all. I huffed impatiently so she’d get the message, but her nose was already back in her magazine. Mum’d been at home for a while now and she was steadily getting worse. She spent a lot of time in her room. And when she did emerge it was always to smother us with kisses and tell us how much she loved us before
she made her way to the wine cellar or the kitchen. Funny how she always reeked of expensive perfume as she smothered us with hugs and kisses. It was a close-run thing to say which was the most overpowering – her perfume or her kisses. Or maybe her attempts to prove to us that she wasn’t drinking any more. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

Because it was so obvious. She was growing more and more out of it. Sadder and lonelier – and worse.

And there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

Saturday. It was eighteen days and five months after Lynette’s death. Funny I should think of it that way. The days before the months. My sixteenth birthday in February had come and gone, with a card and a book signed from both Mum and Dad, but bought and wrapped by Mum. It hadn’t been much of a birthday. No-one had felt like celebrating. And sitting round the table cutting the birthday cake had been a silent affair – because Lynny wasn’t there. The winter had come and gone and spring had arrived – and nothing had changed. Funny that not a single day passed without me thinking about Lynette. When she was here, she so often just seemed to fade into the background, like something that’s always there but
you never really think about. Like air. But now that she was gone . . .

Lynette’s secret still hung heavily over me, like a shroud. No-one knew the truth about her death except me. And with each passing day, the longing to tell someone grew stronger. There was Sephy, but each time I tried to tell her the truth about my sister, the words just wouldn’t come. It felt like I was being disloyal to not just Lynette but my whole family by wanting to tell Sephy and no-one else. On the spur of the moment, I headed for the phone and used our signal to phone Sephy’s house. Within five minutes she was phoning me back.