‘Would you put your arm round me please?’
I hesitated.
Sephy sighed. ‘If you’d rather not.’
‘No, it’s not that.’
Sephy gave me one of her looks.
‘I just . . . never mind.’ I put my arm around her. She put her head on my shoulder. And we both sat and watched the waves foam up on the beach and the shadows lengthen.
THE SPLIT
forty-three. Sephy
Minnie and I walked along the corridor towards Mother’s private room. It’d been two weeks since Mother’s accident. Karl, our chauffeur, brought us to see Mother each evening and although Mother was physically better, her behaviour was really making me worry. The mother I’d got used to over the last few years had disappeared, and in her place . . .
‘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.
forty-four. Callum
‘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 den
ied 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.
forty-five. Sephy
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.
forty-six. Callum
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.
‘Hello you,’ I said.
‘Hello yourself,’ Sephy replied.
‘So what’re you up to today then?’ I asked. I had to keep my voice down because Mum and Dad were upstairs. Jude was out – as per usual – so I was taking this opportunity to use the phone. I was hoping Sephy wouldn’t have anything planned so that we could spend this Saturday together.
‘I’m going shopping! With Mother!’ Sephy wailed.
‘Poor you.’ I had to struggle to keep myself from laughing out loud at Sephy’s tone of voice. She hated shopping at the best of times. And as for shopping with her mum, that must be her idea of hell on earth.
‘It’s not funny!’ Sephy snapped.
‘Of course not,’ I soothed.
Sephy gave a very undignified snort down the phone. ‘You’re laughing at me again.’
‘As if.’
‘What’re you going to be doing with the rest of the day then?’ Sephy asked me.
‘I thought I might go to the park, or maybe the beach. Maybe I’ll do both. I haven’t decided yet.’
‘That’s right, rub it in.’
‘Just think of all that lovely money you’re going to spend,’ I told her.
‘Mother’s going to spend it, not me. She’s decided she needs some spending therapy,’ Sephy replied.
‘Well, if you can’t get out of it, get into it!’
‘I’d much rather be with you,’ Sephy admitted.
There it was again, that familiar twist in my stomach whenever she said things like that to me.
‘Hello?’ Sephy said, uncertainly.
‘I’m still here. Maybe we can meet up later this afternoon?’ I suggested.
Sephy sighed. ‘I doubt it. Mum wants to buy me some dresses and update my school uniform and she wants to buy herself an evening dress and some shoes. Just the shoes by themselves will take three or four hours at least.’
‘Why? Has your mother got duck’s feet or something?’
‘No, just a duck’s taste in shoes. I swear, Callum, it’s going to be torture!’
‘I might see you at the shopping centre actually. I’ve got to get some things for school,’ I said.
‘Like what?’
‘Pens, rulers and I was thinking of buying myself a new calculator.’
‘I’ll keep my eyes open for you,’ Sephy said. ‘Maybe I’ll see you at the café? You can stop me from going completely insane!’
‘If I miss you at the centre, how about getting together this evening then? We could have a late picnic on the beach. Around six o’clock?’
‘I’ll try but I can’t guarantee anything,’ Sephy said.
‘Fair enough.’
‘Saturday in the Dundale Shopping Centre,’ Sephy groaned. ‘Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery!’
Laughing, I said bye and put the phone down. And then I thought of Lynette again – and the laughter stopped.
forty-seven. Sephy
‘D’you like these shoes?’
‘Yes, Mother. They’re really nice,’ I smiled.
‘But those burgundy ones with the thin straps were better, weren’t they?’
‘What burgundy ones?’
‘The ones we tried in Roberts & Miller,’ Mum replied.
That was four shoe shops ago.
‘Well, I really like these ones,’ I tried.
‘I think I’ll go back to Roberts & Miller and try on those burgundy ones just once more.’
Aaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!
r /> forty-eight. Callum
Lunch was over, without too much grief – for once. Jude had come home from heaven only knew where so we’d all eaten together – which made a change. Mum indulged in small talk, telling us all about what our neighbours and relatives and friends were up to, whilst Jude was his usual effervescent, scintillating self and didn’t say one word. No-one was particularly bothered that I didn’t have much to say either. Before I’d swallowed my last mouthful, my knife and fork clattered onto my plate and I jumped up. Grabbing my jacket off the back of the sofa, I headed for the door.
‘Where’re you going?’ Mum asked with a smile.
‘The shopping centre.’
Jude leapt up like a scalded cat. ‘Oh no you’re not.’
I frowned at him. ‘I’ll go where I ruddy like. Since when is it any of your business where I go?’
‘Callum, you don’t want to go there. Not today,’ Jude said, nervously.
‘Jude?’ Mum stood up slowly.
A tense, watchful atmosphere entered the room like chilling fog.
‘Why shouldn’t I go?’ I asked my brother.
He didn’t answer.
‘What’s going on?’ I persisted.
I turned to Mum. She was staring at Jude, a stunned look on her face. From her expression, she was obviously well ahead of me.
‘Don’t go there, Callum,’ Jude told me, pointedly.
‘But . . .’ And only then did I click.
The Liberation Militia were planning something at the Dundale. Something Jude knew about. Something my brother didn’t want me anywhere near. And then I remembered.
‘Sephy’s at the shopping centre,’ I said, horror-stricken.
‘Callum . . .’ Jude began.
I didn’t wait to hear any more. I ran out of the house, leaving the front door wide open as I raced for the shopping centre.
forty-nine. Sephy
Mother was driving me nuts! In our five long, long hours together, I’d bitten my tongue so many times it’d swollen up to the size of a football and was choking me. If she asked me for my opinion on one more pair of shoes, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. I sipped my orange juice, grateful for the short but welcome break away from her. She’d gone back to the car park to pack away her various purchases. She was enjoying herself. I’m glad one of us was!