None of the oldies ever wanted to discuss the past, that was the trouble. Whenever I asked my mum about anything that happened more than ten years ago, she'd invariably say, 'Tobey, that was a long time ago. I can't remember.' But it seemed to me that most oldies remembered the past better than the present. They just didn't want to talk about it. Funny how Nought oldies never wanted to discuss the past and Cross oldies did nothing but. It seemed to me that the Crosses embraced their history in a way we Noughts very rarely did.
Callie's mum, Sephy, had her share of photos scattered around the room as well. Photos of her and Callie mostly. There was one of Sephy and her older sister, Minerva, taken when they were both teenagers by the look of it. And one large photo of Callie's Nana Jasmine and Meggie sat self-consciously in the middle of the window sill. That photo was taken when they were young women. They stood side by side, arms linked as they both smiled at the camera. Every time I looked at that photo, I wondered what each of them had been thinking the precise moment the photo was taken. Callie once told me that her mum and dad, Sephy and Callum, were just kids when that photo was taken – certainly no older than nine or ten. How odd to think that two families with such different backgrounds could have their lives so intertwined.
At last Meggie got the wrapping paper off, revealing the dark-blue box underneath. I had never seen anyone take quite so long to get wrapping paper off. Meggie carefully removed the lid from the box. The surprise on her face was transformed to pure delight.
'I'm sorry it's not much,' Callie said apologetically.
'It's beautiful.' Meggie smiled at her before taking out her present. It was a gold necklace with a pendant shaped like a golden rose on a thornless stem. Callie had already shown it to me on the day she bought it, asking for my opinion.
'It's a rose from Callie Rose,' she told her nan, as if Meggie hadn't worked that bit out by now. 'It's so you'll always have something to remind you of me. You don't think that's too narcissistic, do you?'
Meggie smiled at her granddaughter. 'No, love, just unnecessary. I don't need a necklace or anything else to think of you. But thank you anyway. It's really beautiful.'
'And it won't turn your neck green,' I quipped from the door.
Meggie raised an amused eyebrow.
'Thanks for that, Tobey.' Callie scowled at me before turning back to Meggie. 'It's real gold, Nana. It's only nine carats, but it is real gold.'
'Callie, don't let Tobey wind you up, dear. It's lovely.'
'Tobey's got you something as well,' said Callie.
That was my cue to move further into the room. Reluctantly, I dug into my jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled envelope. I handed it over, embarrassed. Meggie took hold of it and took out the birthday card. The envelope looked so manky, I wouldn't've blamed her if she'd held it gingerly by only one corner. But she didn't.
'It's a birthday card,' I mumbled, stating the obvious.
'That's very kind of you, Tobey.'
'It's not much,' I warned her as she took it out of its envelope.
Meggie looked at the expressionist vase of flowers on the front of the card and then read the words on the inside, which was more than I'd done when I bought it.
'Thank you, Tobey. It's lovely.'
The card was cheap and cheerful and had just about emptied my pockets. But Meggie was being great about it. She put it next to Callie's card on the side table.
Callie started chatting about the restaurant her mum and her nan were going to later and Meggie's face cleared as she listened. I admit I didn't contribute much to the conversation. Money was in my head again. It had to be in my head, I couldn't afford to keep it any other place. Something had to change. I couldn't spend the next few years until I graduated from university like this.
Callie popped two lasagne meals into the microwave for us as we weren't going out to dinner with her mum and nan. We weren't invited because it was a school night. I mean, Godsake! Did I look like I went to bed before Meggie McGregor? But I wasn't going to argue. After all, it meant Callie and I could be alone together, which suited me just fine. After our meal, I asked Callie if she fancied going for a walk? The moment we stepped outside, the intense evening heat hit us like a slap round the face. We headed along our road, walking through a shock wave of rock music blaring out through the open living-room window of the house five doors along. The air smelled of chicken nuggets and bad temper. The irresistible urge to get something off my chest grew stronger with each step.
'Callie, I will get you something for your birthday. I promise.'
Callie was surprised. 'My birthday was ages ago.'
'I know. But I never got you anything.'
'It doesn't matter. I just want to forget my last birthday,' Callie said sombrely. 'Anyway, what brought that on?'
'I just . . .' I eyed the bracelet adorning her left wrist. The gold link chain set off the semi-precious lime-green stones that glinted against Callie's brown skin. It was beautiful. Just the sort of thing I'd've loved to have bought for her. Lucas and his deep pockets, no doubt.
'Tobey?' Callie prompted.
'I never got you a gift and I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten. I will get you something.'
'Don't bother.' Callie shrugged.
'But I want to . . .'
'Tobey, it's no big deal. I don't want or need anything from you,' said Callie. 'At least . . . Never mind.'
'Go on. What were you going to say?'
'It doesn't matter.'
'What is it you want?'
Callie smiled. 'Let me come close to beating you at chess once in a while. That'll do.'
'Are you mad?' I replied, horror-stricken. 'Chess should be taken seriously, otherwise why bother?'
'It was just a thought.' Callie's grin broadened.
'Maybe it'll be a thought when it grows up?' I suggested.
Callie shook her head. We carried on walking.
'Are you still playing football this Sunday?' she asked.
'Yeah. You coming?'
'You mean, am I going to stand on a sweaty sideline at three on Sunday afternoon to watch you and your mates kick a ball around for ninety minutes?'
I nodded.
'I wouldn't miss it.' Callie smiled. 'See! I must really like you or something.'
We carried on walking in a companionable silence. There were all kinds of things I wanted to say, wanted to ask, but I'm useless at that kind of thing, so I did the same as usual and said nothing. I stole glances at Callie. Was she OK just walking beside me? Or did she wish she could be somewhere else? It was so hard to tell. She turned her head occasionally to catch me looking at her. Each time she'd smile like she knew something I didn't and we'd keep walking.
'Callie . . .' I began at last.
'Yes?'
'Have you . . . have you forgiven me for . . . telling you about your dad?'
I'd inadvertently revealed to Callie that her dad had been hanged as a Nought terrorist and for a long, long time afterwards she wouldn't even speak to me. It was the most miserable time of my life. After that I vowed that I'd never do anything to lose Callie's friendship again.
Callie stared at me. 'Tobey, that was a long time ago. Of course I've forgiven you. Like you said, we're friends.'
'It's just . . . I think about that day a lot. I didn't mean to hurt you.'
'I know you didn't. Let it go.'
'Easier said than done,' I sighed.
Callie nodded, her expression deadly serious. 'I know. You're not terribly good at letting things go.'
The sound of sirens split the air. And the sound was getting closer.
Callie's steps slowed. 'Sounds like we'd better head back,' she said.
Sirens were more common than birds chirping around here, especially lately. I was all for carrying on with our walk when three police cars screeched to a halt at the top of our road. Mrs Bridges was at it again. Everyone on our street knew she was dealing drugs. Punters would turn up and post money through her door, the
n she'd chuck the required merchandise out of a first-floor window. Her downstairs windows were barred and securely fastened, just in case some druggie fancied his or her chances. Most didn't, unless they were tired of having two working legs. Everyone knew Mrs Bridges worked for the Dowds. Callie and I knew enough not to hang around. I took Callie's arm and practically frogmarched her back the way we'd come. For once she didn't argue.
'I hate this place,' Callie muttered from beside me. 'It never stops.'
She turned back to see what was going on. Even though the police cars were stationary, their lights were still flashing. The police were hammering away at Mrs Bridges's door. Good luck with that! Any drugs on the premises had been flushed away and were well on their way to the seaside by now. We quickened our pace away from all the banging and shouting.
'What d'you think is happening?' Callie asked.
'Who knows? What the cops would call N.H.I., no doubt.'
'N.H.I.?'
'No humans involved.'
Callie looked so profoundly shocked, I instantly regretted my cynical outburst. But I remembered the last time a Nought boy had been stabbed by another Nought around here. It was about three months ago, maybe four. I was on my way home from school when I turned a corner and saw a number of people and the flashing lights of police cars and an ambulance. Pushing my way forward, I stood rubber-necking like everyone else before we were all pushed back away from the scene. Some poor Nought boy of about my own age lay still on the ground, a slow pool of blood leaking out from beneath him. His hands were at his sides and his sightless eyes were staring straight into the sun. It was the first time I'd seen a dead body. I waited for some emotion other than sadness to kick in. What should I be feeling? Rage? Fear? Pity? Nothing stirred inside me. Taking one last look at the dead boy, I turned and walked away. I didn't run. I walked, my head down. I just wanted to get home. As I approached the street corner, I heard them before I saw them.
'So who got shot this time?' a woman's voice was asking. She might've been enquiring about the soup of the day in a restaurant for all the emotion in her voice.
'Not shot. Stabbed,' a younger male voice corrected. 'Just another kid. Some boy.'
'Noughts cleaning house again,' said the woman.
'The boy was still someone's son, someone's friend.'
'When you've been at this as long as me, you'll realize that all these Nought deaths are strictly N.H.I.,' said the woman.
'What does that mean?'
'No humans involved,' the woman replied. 'As long as it's blankers killing blankers, who cares?'
I turned the corner then. A middle-aged Cross copper was setting out cones to cordon off the road. Her younger Cross colleague looked at me, then away. It was one of those moments. They knew I'd heard them. I knew they knew. I carried on walking. N.H.I.? Was that what I was to them? Was that all I was? Something inside me began to uncoil – like something deep inside, asleep inside, was beginning to wake. I stopped walking, closed my eyes and took several long, deep breaths. Whatever had been stirring inside me settled and remained still.
It was better that way. Safer.
'Tobey, d'you think we'll ever get away from here?' asked Callie.
'I guarantee it,' I replied sombrely.
We reached my house first. I opened the door, bundled Callie inside and closed it firmly behind me.
'How can you be so sure?' asked Callie.
'Because there's no way I'm going to spend the rest of my life around here. And neither are you.'
Callie sighed. 'I wish I had your confidence.'
'I'm getting out of here, Callie. Just watch me,' I told her.
And I'm taking you with me.
ten. Callie
I loved walking to school with Tobey. He always made me laugh – when he wasn't in one of his quiet moods. And the morning was so light and bright, a promise of the day to come. The sunlight glinting on Tobey's dark-brown hair made it seem like he had occasional red highlights in it. Tobey's mum's hair was red so I suppose it was only natural that he would inherit some of her colouring. His hair used to fall in unruly waves almost to his shoulders, but at the beginning of our current school term he'd had it cut as short as I'd ever seen it. It was only two or three centimetres long now, if that, but it suited him. Made him seem older somehow. And now that his hair was shorter, it looked darker, to match his eyes. Tobey's eyes were the colour of strong coffee. But when he was angry, they grew so dark it was hard to tell where his irises ended and his pupils began. Not that there was much on this planet that could anger Tobey. He was Mr Sanguine. Tobey caught me looking at him. He smiled. I smiled back. Then I noticed something about him that hadn't registered before.
'Tobey, what's that on your chin?' I moved closer for a better look.
'It's my goatee. What d'you think?'
'That's your attempt at growing a beard?'
'A goatee.'
I shook my head. 'Tobey, I've seen more fuzz on a kiwi fruit. Lose it. It looks crap.'
'Thanks,' Tobey said sourly.
'If your best friend can't tell you the truth, then who can?' I asked. 'You look like you haven't washed your face this morning.'
'Thanks.'
I sniffed at his chin. He pulled back like he thought I was going to bite him or something. He should be so lucky!
'You smell reasonable, though,' I told him. 'Did you finally discover the meaning of life, the universe and soap?'
'You're real funny, Callie,' Tobey told me, his tone implying the exact opposite.
I smiled. 'You love me really.'
He reluctantly smiled back. 'Yeah, I adore you. Bitch!'
We both creased up laughing. Sometimes Tobey took himself a bit too seriously. And his attempt at a goatee really was wretched. We were having a good laugh, but were less than a minute away from school when all that changed. Tobey saw them before I did. I was too busy giggling at one of Tobey's silly observations about his sister's ex-boyfriend to see straight. But Tobey's accompanying laughter died on his lips and his eyes took on a hard yet wary look. I followed the direction of his gaze.
Lucas and three of his mates were standing on the steps of the school entrance, sharing a joke. I glanced between Lucas and Tobey and instantly smelled trouble. Lucas and his friends were weaving about like they didn't have a care in the world. Until Lucas spotted us. He said a few words to his crew, his eyes never leaving mine, and the laughter instantly stopped. I was too far away to hear what he said, but it had the desired effect. Lucas's friends all turned to face us, all trace of humour now gone. Tobey and I didn't alter our pace, didn't speed up, didn't slow down. Even though Tobey didn't say a word, I could sense the sudden tension in him.
I didn't understand Lucas. When he was on his own he was fine towards me. He acted like he still wanted us to be together. But when he was with his friends, it was a different story. The way they watched me and Tobey made me feel distinctly uneasy.
I broke up with Lucas soon after Nana Jasmine died. I couldn't cope with her death and Lucas as well. Being with Tobey was easy in a way that being with Lucas was not. It felt like Lucas was with me in spite of what I was, whereas Tobey couldn't care less that my dad was a Nought and my mum is a Cross. Between Lucas and me, silence was a high thorny hedge, something to be painfully overcome. But when I was with Tobey, silence embraced the two of us, pushing us together instead of driving us apart.
At first Lucas had tried to be understanding. But when I started hanging around with Tobey instead of him, our relationship changed. He was never overtly antagonistic, it wasn't that. But something about him made me . . . wary. I think if I'd been a dog, I would've held still and growled beneath my breath whenever he approached. Mum had told me that there were far more Noughts at Heathcroft School now than there ever were in her day, which was part of the reason she was happy for me to go there. And none of my friends were chosen according to their postcode or their skin colour, but I'd never seen Lucas hang out with anyone but Crosses. I guess his p
arents had had more of an influence over him and his thinking than either of us realized.
Steeling myself, I deliberately took hold of Tobey's hand. He instantly tried to pull away, but my grip on his hand tightened. I glared at him. He got the message and his hand faux relaxed into mine. Good thing too, or I'd never have spoken to him again. If Lucas and his friends wanted something to stare at then I was more than happy to provide it.
Tobey and I reached them. No one said a word.
'Morning, Callie,' Lucas said softly.
'Lucas,' I said, frost coating each syllable of his name. I didn't appreciate his intimidatory tactics. Not. One. Little. Bit.
'Is this "lead-a-blanker-to-school day" then?' asked Drew.
Tobey spun round to face him, pulling his hand from mine. 'Sod off, Drew,' he hissed, his hands clenched at his side.
So much for Tobey being Mr Sanguine! I was about to launch in with a few choice words of my own, but Lucas beat me to it.
'Drew, apologize,' Lucas ordered.
Drew looked at his friend like he'd lost his mind. And he wasn't the only one. I risked a swift glance at Lucas before turning my hostile glare back to the moron beside him.
'Say sorry to Durbrain?' Drew regarded Tobey with utter contempt. 'That'll be the day.'
Tobey took a step forward, as did Drew. Aaron, Yemi and Lucas moved to back up their mate. I pushed through to stand beside Tobey. He tried to step in front of me, but I sidestepped to stand beside him again. I stood with one leg slightly behind the other, taking up a strong, balanced stance, my arms at my sides, my hands poised. Thanks to Uncle Jude and his training programme for new recruits, I knew how to kick arse and take no prisoners – as Lucas and his cronies were about to find out. I assessed Aaron as the strongest of the group. He'd be the one to take out first.
'You should remember what side you belong to,' Drew told me through narrowed eyes.
'Oh, I do,' I said softly. 'And it'll always be the opposite side to you.'