‘I’m not. I can’t stand your mother but at least she had a reason to start. What’s your excuse? Not enough attention? Daddy’s allowance not big enough? Mummy not giving you enough love? Bed not wide enough? Bedroom carpet not plush enough?’
‘Stop it . . .’ I was sobering up fast. Callum was being horrible. ‘Don’t stand there and judge me. How dare you?’
‘If you behave like a complete moron, don’t bleat when that’s how others treat you.’
‘I’m not a moron.’
‘No, you’re worse. You’re a drunk. A lush. An alcy.’
I covered my ears. ‘Don’t say that. That’s enough . . .’
‘Is it? Come on then. I’m waiting to hear your reasons. I’m all ears.’
‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Try me.’
‘I’m tired, OK,’ I shouted at him, shouted for the whole world to hear.
‘Tired of what?’
‘Of my mother and father, my sister, of you too if you must know. I’m tired of the way you all make me feel. This is it for me, isn’t it? Be a good girl, study at school, study at university, get a good job, marry a good man, live a good life and they all lived happily ever after. The whole thing just makes me . . . makes me want to puke. I want something more in my life . . .’
‘And you reckon you’ll find it in a wine bottle?’
I kicked at the sand beneath my feet. ‘I don’t know where else to look,’ I finally admitted.
‘Sephy, don’t follow your mother, OK? She’s headed for a mental home – or a coffin. Is that really what you want?’
That made me start and no mistake. Was that really where Mother was going? I didn’t want her to die like that. I didn’t want to die like that. I regarded Callum, seeing myself as he must see me. A silly, pathetic child who thought that drinking was a way to grow older faster. A way to stop feeling, ’cause then nothing could hurt me.
‘I should be getting back,’ I said at last, massaging my throbbing temples.
‘Sephy, promise me you won’t drink any more.’
‘No,’ I said at once.
Callum looked so hurt and unhappy, that I couldn’t leave it there. I just couldn’t.
‘But I promise I’ll try,’ I added.
On the spur of the moment, I leaned forward and kissed Callum on the lips. He moved back.
‘Don’t want to see what kissing is like any more – huh?’ I tried to tease.
‘You stink of alcohol,’ Callum told me.
My smile vanished. ‘D’you know something, Callum? Sometimes you can be just as cruel as my dad is to my mother.’
‘Sorry.’
I turned to walk away.
‘Sephy, I’m sorry.’ Callum pulled me back.
‘Just get lost.’
‘Not without you.’ Callum gave a pathetic attempt at a smile.
‘Leave me alone,’ I screamed at him, knocking his arm away. ‘I should’ve known you wouldn’t understand. I should’ve realized. Besides, you have other fish to fry now. You’re part of the Liberation Militia. You must be so proud of yourselves . .’
‘I’m not a member of the L.M. I never have been,’ Callum denied harshly.
‘How did you know about the bomb at the Dundale then?’
Callum pressed his lips firmly together. I recognized that look, he wasn’t going to say a word.
‘You should’ve let me get blown up, Callum. Sometimes . . . sometimes I wish you had . . .’
Callum kissed me then. And it wasn’t like the first time we’d kissed either. He wrapped his arms around me and closed his eyes and kissed me. And after a startled moment, I did exactly the same.
And it wasn’t bad, either.
But it wasn’t enough. Our kiss deepened and his hands began to wander, and so did mine.
And it made things better. But it wasn’t enough.
fifty-six. Callum
Of course I admit it. Things went too far. We didn’t go all the way. Not all the way. But I’d only meant to kiss her to show that I didn’t care if she reeked of ruddy cider. I wouldn’t even care if her face was covered with puke . . . well, maybe that’s going a bit far! But I wanted to show her . . . Anyway. I’m going to have to be more careful. Sephy’s just a kid really. We both stopped in time. Not just one of us. I think we both realized we were moving too far too fast.
But now, the thing is, I’m doing my head in thinking about her. Jude would bust a gut if he could read my mind. He’d probably literally do it too. I’m only sixteen and Sephy’s not even fifteen yet. In my world the trouble never stops. In hers, it never starts. This drinking nonsense is just her way of getting attention. I mean, it’s not even as if she’s getting drunk on proper booze. Not whisky or gin or vodka but cider, for goodness’ sake! She’s bored, that’s all it is. I wish she could live half my life. Just half. That’d soon give her something to occupy her time.
Come on, Callum, think of something else or you’ll never get any sleep. I wonder what she’s doing at this precise moment. Lying in bed thinking of me? I hope so.
Dear God, if you really are out there, somewhere, please find some way for Sephy and I to be together when we’re older. For good and all when we’re older. Together for ever. Dear God, please. If it’s not too much to ask. If you’re out there . . .
Callum for goodness’ sake, stop daydreaming and get some sleep. You’re being totally pathetic. Stop it!
There was no warning. No knock at the door. No warning shouts. Nothing. The first I knew about it was the CRASH when our front door was battered in. Shouts. Calls. A scream. Footsteps charging. Doors banging. More shouts. More footsteps – pound, pound, pound up the stairs. By the time I was fully awake and had swung my legs out of bed, smoke was everywhere. At least I thought it was smoke. I dropped to the floor.
‘Jude? JUDE!’ I yelled, terrified that my brother was still asleep. I jumped up, looking around for him.
It was only then that I realized it wasn’t smoke filling my room, filling the house. The strong smell of garlic caught in the back of my throat and brought instant tears to my eyes. I coughed and coughed, my lungs threatening to explode from my body and my eyes were streaming. Tear gas. I struggled to my feet and groped my way to the front door.
‘DOWN! GET DOWN!’ A voice, no, more than one voice, screamed at me.
I turned in the direction of the voice, only to be pushed to my knees, then down to the ground. My chin hit the hard floor, making me bite down on my tongue. My arms were jerked behind my body. Hands bent back. Cold, hard steel cutting into my wrists. My eyes hurt. My lungs hurt. My tongue hurt. I was pulled to my knees, then yanked up. Pushed and pulled and punched forward. I couldn’t see. I closed my burning eyes – and I admit, I was crying by now, trying to clear the tear gas, desperate to stop the pain. My lungs were being filed with sandpaper. Stop breathing. Just stop. But I couldn’t. And each breath was strong as ammonia, sharp as a razor.
‘JUDE! MUM! DAD!’ I called out, only to choke over the words. Only to choke. I couldn’t take much more. My body began to seize up, curl in on itself. And suddenly we were out. Out of the house. Out into the cool, night air. I tried to draw a breath. My lungs were being sliced. I gasped. More air – clean, fresh air. Just as I was pushed into the back of a car, I heard my mum crying.
‘MUM!’ I called. I blinked, and blinked again, looking around, trying to see her. Shapes and shadows swam before me. The car took off. My hands were still handcuffed behind my back. My whole body hurt.
And I still didn’t know why.
fifty-seven. Sephy
I can’t keep doing this, bouncing between Mother and Minnie and school and Callum like a pinball. Everyone’s controlling my life except me. And I can feel it’s going to get worse, not better. I need to do something. I need . . . I need to get out of here.
But Callum . . .
I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to leave him. But I must. Callum’s a survivor. I’m not. He’ll understand if I
explain it to him. I can’t think when I’m around him. He confuses me. Around him, all I do is think about him. Sad, but true! Pathetic, but true!
He kissed me tonight. And held me. And ran his hands over my back and my bum and my waist. And pressed me against him. And it felt so strange. Like I belonged right there with him. Except I didn’t. I wish I knew why he did it. If only I could read his mind.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Callum and I . .?
STOP!
Don’t be ridiculous. You’re fourteen, for goodness’ sake. Sephy, you need to get a life – literally! By the time you’re ready to settle down, Callum will probably be married with six kids. Sort yourself out first, your life out second, and your love life out last! As if Callum would be interested in a kid like you anyway?
But he did kiss me . . .
Listen to me, talking to myself. Telling myself off. I’m really losing it. But I need to take my own advice. Get away. Get a life. Start now, before it’s too late.
‘Mother, I want to go away to school.’
Mother opened her eyes and blinked at me like a stunned owl. ‘W-what, sweetie?’
‘I want to go away to school. I need to get away from here, from . . . everything.’
‘W-where would you go?’ Mother struggled to sit up on her bed. Her eyes were vampire red. There was a telltale smell in the room. I looked at Mother and it was like looking in a mirror that foretold the future. But only for an instant. The smell was vile, the sight was worse. And the mirror cracked.
‘I want to go away to school. A boarding school somewhere . . .’
Callum . . .
‘I was thinking maybe Chivers Boarding School ’cause it’s not too far away.’
Just far enough away to keep me away from here. Too far for weekend visits in either direction. Far enough away to find something I liked about myself. Far enough away to grow up.
‘Only about one hundred and fifty kilometres,’ I continued.
Callum . . .
‘But . . . what would I do without you?’
I could see from Mother’s eyes that our conversation was finally beginning to sink in.
‘You’ll have Minnie. And the servants. And all your friends and your parties and . . . everything.’ I forced a smile. ‘I want to go. Please, Mother?’
‘You really want to leave?’
‘Yes.’
Mother looked at me. A moment of perfect understanding between us. And it made me so sad. I almost changed my mind then. Almost. But not quite.
‘I can see you’ve made your mind up about this.’
‘I have.’
‘And when would you want to start?’
‘Now. Or in September at the latest.’
‘But September’s only a few months away.’
‘I know.’
Mother looked at me, then lowered her gaze. ‘I don’t think so, sweetie,’ she said, sombrely.
‘Mother, I want to go.’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ Mother said, shaking her head.
‘For who? You or me?’
‘I said no, Sephy.’
I turned and slammed out of her room, grimly satisfied at the muffled wail Mother let out at the noise. I leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what my next move should be. In a moment of pure clarity I realized there was only one thing holding me back. One person stopping me from packing my bags and walking to Chivers right now. I had no idea how I was going to explain my plans to him but I had to. Callum would understand. He’d be on my side once he understood my reasons. Callum and I were like two sides of the same coin.
If Mother thought I was going to let the matter stop and drop here, she had another thought coming. I needed to get away. Get out.
Before it was too late.
fifty-eight. Callum
‘Tell me about your brother’s involvement with the Liberation Militia.’
‘My brother’s not in the Liberation Militia,’ I denied, the words coming out as little more than a slur. I was so tired. How long had we been doing this? One hour? Twenty?
Two plain-clothed officers sat at the table opposite me. Only one of them was doing the talking though. This was obviously their version of bad cop, silent cop. ‘I’ll ask you again, which L.M. cell d’you belong to?’
‘I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.’
‘When did Jude join the Liberation Militia?’
‘He didn’t – as far as I know.’
‘When did your mother join the L.M.?’
‘She didn’t. She hasn’t.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘I am.’
‘You weren’t that sure about your brother.’
‘I . . . I am.’
‘What L.M. cell does your father belong to?’
‘None of them.’
‘Come on now. We know all about your family’s involvement with the L.M.’
‘What d’you need me for then?’
The two officers exchanged a look. I was cheesing them off. Good.
‘Corroboration,’ said the silent one at last. ‘Confirm what we know already and we’ll go easy on you.’
‘I don’t know anything.’ I tried to rest my head on my arms on the table but the one who’d done most of the talking pushed my head back up. I sat back in my chair, utterly weary and something else besides. But I wasn’t going to show them that.
‘Don’t mess us about, son.’
‘I’m not your son.’
‘And I’m not someone you want to make an enemy of,’ said the non-talkative officer.
‘Whose idea was the Dundale bomb? Your brother’s or your father’s?’
‘You all hate Crosses, don’t you?’
‘You’d all do whatever it took to annihilate the lot of us. That’s true, isn’t it?’
‘How old were you when you joined the L.M.?’
And on. And on. And round. And round. Question after question. No rest. No peace. No respite. Until my head was spinning giddy and each question echoed with the one before it and the one before that. Until I thought, So this is what it’s like to go crazy . . .
And what about Mum and Dad and Jude? Where were they? What were they doing? Why were the police so intent on my brother? I bit down hard on my bottom lip, terrified that I was actually voicing my thoughts, terrified of what I might give way. Think of something else. Think of nothing at all. Think of nothing. And that’s when my mind closed down and the world stopped spinning.
I opened my eyes slowly. Please, no more questions. I couldn’t take any more questions. I wasn’t in the interrogation room any more. I was back in my cell, with Mum sitting on the bed beside me, stroking my hair back off my face.
‘Callum? Thank goodness. Are you OK? They didn’t hurt you.’
I took my time to sit up, shaking my head as I did so.
‘W-where’s Dad? Where’s Jude?’ I asked.
‘Your dad’s still being questioned and,’ Mum took a deep breath, ‘I don’t know where Jude is. He wasn’t in the house when those animals came crashing in.’
‘He wasn’t? What’s going on? What do they want? Why’re they going on and on about Jude?’
‘They found an empty can of drink near to where the Dundale bomb went off,’ Mum said grimly.
‘So?’
‘So, the can had Jude’s prints all over it. So they say. It’s a damned lie of course but they reckon they cross-referenced it with the print on his ID card.’
‘But how did they get hold of his ID card…?’ And then I realized.
Mum nodded. ‘They scanned in his card when we were at the hospital. I guess they got the information from the computer before the nurse had a chance to delete it – if she ever really did.’
‘But Jude didn’t . . .’ I looked straight at Mum. ‘Did he?’
‘They’re saying he planted the bomb. They’re saying w-when they catch him, he’ll . . . he’ll hang.’ And Mum’s face dissolved into a stream of tears.
; ‘They won’t get him. Once Jude knows they’re looking for him . . .’ I said, frantically.
‘It’s just a matter of time.’ Mum shook her head. ‘We both know that. And they’ve already issued a reward for information leading to his capture.’
‘What kind of reward?’
‘Fifty thousand.’
There was nothing to be said at that. Words and tears and prayers were useless. With that kind of money up for grabs it was just a matter of time before Jude was arrested.
‘They’ve probably planted the evidence themselves. They don’t have a clue who planted that bomb and they’re just looking for a scapegoat.’ My voice was barely above a whisper. I couldn’t take it all in. They wanted to hang my brother. Nothing on this earth would make me believe he’d actually planted that car bomb. He might’ve been there, but he wouldn’t’ve been the one to put it together and set it to go off. Jude wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. ‘If they only want Jude, why’re they still questioning Dad?’
‘Dad demanded to see them once we knew why they were after Jude,’ Mum told me.
‘Why? What’s Dad doing?’
‘I have no idea.’ Mum wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Probably saying the same as you, no doubt. I just hope he’s careful.’
I stared at Mum. ‘What d’you mean?’
Mum just shook her head. Before I could speak, the cell door clicked open. An officer I hadn’t seen yet, opened the door wide. He was a slim man with cutting eyes who looked at us like we were worse than nothing.
‘You two can go now.’
‘Where’s my husband?’ Mum asked at once.
‘He’s being held, after which he’ll be formally charged,’ the officer told us.
‘Charged with what?’ I asked.
‘My husband has done nothing wrong. Why’s he being held?’ Mum asked, her voice shaking, but it was hard to tell whether it shook with fear or anger.
‘Get your things and leave,’ the officer said. ‘I haven’t got all day.’
‘I demand to know why you’re holding my husband. I want to see him – now.’ Mum exploded.