One evening, just a couple of months after my eighteenth birthday, I’d been sitting sipping a coffee outside a café in the city and surreptitiously timing the guards’ movements in the glass-fronted office block opposite when I first spotted her.
It was one of those cafés which likes to pretend it’s très chic by serving croissants at night and coffee that’s all foam and no flavour – or liquid for that matter. The evening was quite chilly so apart from me, there were only three other men huddled at another table about two metres away from me.
Leila came over to me first.
‘Spare some change for a coffee?’
I looked at her and shook my head. She moved on to the only other occupied table outside the café.
‘Spare some change please?’
‘Here’s five quid.’ One of the morons at the table waved it under her nose. ‘What will you do for it?’
I turned to watch, interested to see what she’d do next.
‘Well?’ The man winked at his friends and continued to wave the money under Leila’s nose.
I could tell from her tense stance that she was furiously angry, but the guy who was showing off to his mates was too thick-skinned to realize it. Or maybe he just didn’t care? Leila lurched forward to try and snatch the money from the moron’s hand, but he snatched it back.
‘Come on, you tart! You can do better than that.’
‘What did you call me?’ Leila asked softly.
I moved my coffee to the other side of my table.
‘If the shoe fits . . .’ The moron laughed and his friends joined in.
‘Stand up and I’ll show you what I’ll do for that fiver,’ Leila said silkily.
And like a jackass the man stood up. Seconds later he was doubled over after Leila’s foot made painful contact with his goodies.
‘You were right. The shoe does fit!’ Leila hissed at him, snatching the five pounds out of his unresisting fingers.
Moron number one collapsed to the floor, coughing his guts out. Morons two and three should’ve remained seated but they decided to go for it. Big mistake! It took less than fifteen seconds for Leila to sort out those two. By the time she’d finished, they were all rolling on the ground like human skittles.
I waved to one of the waiters inside the café who was watching the proceedings with horror.
He edged out, giving Leila a wide berth.
‘My bill, please,’ I told him. I turned to Leila. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me?’
Leila spun around, belligerence all over her face. ‘Are you talking to me?’
‘Yes. Would you like a dinner – somewhere away from here though. The police will be here in about five minutes.’
She looked me up and down – and more than once before she answered. ‘Yeah, OK then.’
I glanced into the café but my waiter was taking his time. So guessing at the price then doubling it, I put my money down on the table. We strolled off down the road towards a good meat restaurant I knew. I’d been poor for too long to be a vegetarian. And as we walked along, Leila never said a word. When we got to the restaurant, she sat down on her chair poised to leap straight on to her feet if the situation demanded it.
‘Two menus please,’ I said to the waitress. ‘I’m Callum,’ I told my new companion, holding out my hand.
‘Leila,’ she replied, digging her hands deeper into her pockets.
And that was the beginning of our friendship. It’d taken me a while to get to know her but it was well worth the effort. She and I had a similar sense of humour – which always helps. I was the one who recommended that she be taken under our wing. She’d been on her own for a long time before she joined our cell, so she was ridiculously grateful at belonging to the L.M. So grateful that she suggested becoming my lover. It was a couple of months later when we were held up in one of our safe houses, waiting for Pete and Morgan to return from a reconnaissance trip.
‘Thanks for the offer,’ I told her. ‘And I’m very, very flattered but I’ve only got room for one thing in my life now – and that’s my work.’
‘You’re sure?’ she asked.
I nodded. To my surprise, Leila put her hands on my shoulders and kissed me. It was nice too, but that’s all it was.
‘You’re sure you won’t change your mind?’
‘I’m sure,’ I smiled.
‘Well, the offer is always open,’ she shrugged.
‘I’ll remember that.’
And we’d both carried on cleaning our field guns. I didn’t want to get involved. In fact, I didn’t want any distractions, no matter how lovely they were – and Leila was lovely. She was as tall as me and super-fit with dark brown, short-cropped hair, cat-green eyes and a ready smile in spite of all the crap that’d happened to her. Of course, Morgan and Pete couldn’t believe the fact that I’d turned her down. I heard the two of them discussing whether or not I batted for the other side. That made me laugh wryly, but I left them to wonder. Sometimes I felt lonely enough to take Leila up on her offer, but I never did. The last thing any of us needed were lovers’ quarrels taking our minds off what we were meant to be doing.
So in a short space of time, I made quite a name for myself. I was known as the crazy one – the first one into danger and the last one out. Everyone in my cell was convinced I had nerves of steel. So much so that Pete had to take me to one side and tell me to take it a bit easier or I’d wind up dead. No-one realized that that was the whole point.
By the time I was nineteen, I’d gained my stripes – and lost my soul. But a soul was unnecessary in my line of work. To make it as a grunt I had to beat up a dagger. I ambushed one on his way home from work and knocked seven bells out of him. To prove myself as a private I had to take on three of them, but for that I was allowed to be armed. I had a knife and I’d been taught how to use it. I won that fight as well. And one of the daggers died later from his wounds. I waited for days to feel something, anything, but I never did. Confirmation, if I needed any, that I was dead inside.
And to become a sergeant . . . Well, it doesn’t make any sense to dwell on it. I did what I had to do. I did the only thing I could do. I became one of the youngest sergeants in the whole of the Liberation Militia. Second-in-command of our well respected cell. One of the most respected. And one of the most wanted.
I missed my mum. I sent money to her whenever I could, but I never made any attempt to see her. It would’ve been too dangerous, for both of us. And I never posted the money from the same place twice either. In my line of work, there was no such thing as being too careful. Poor Mum! One way or another, she’d lost us all – through no fault of her own.
I never once saw my brother. I heard he was in charge of a cell further north. We never had any contact with each other. I was told not to expect any favours because I was Jude McGregor’s brother and Ryan McGregor’s son – and I didn’t. I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t want anything. I didn’t ask for anything – except complete loyalty from those in my cell. And absolute obedience the couple of times I had to take charge. And I got it too.
The police didn’t know my identity, my real name. They didn’t even know what I looked like, I was careful that way. They just had the codename of our cell – Stiletto – like the very sharp, very deadly dagger. Isn’t that ironic?
My cell was never given anything too onerous to do, or too dangerous for that matter. We were more of an acquisitions cell than otherwise. Money, explosives, guns – you name it, we did what we had to do to get it. I was on my way up and nothing was going to get in my way. Nothing.
Our cause was just.
Our aim was true.
A couple of months after my nineteenth birthday, Pete received a direct order from L.M. command. They were sending a lieutenant to assess his cell’s ‘efficiency’.
‘Efficiency, my left buttock!’ Pete fumed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my cell’s efficiency.’
The rest of us could see the strop the message had put Pete in, from
over five kilometres away and wisely kept our distance for the rest of the day. There was no word as to when we could expect this lieutenant and Pete was determined he or she wouldn’t be able to fault any of our work or procedures. He made Leila go through our inventory with a fine-tooth comb to make sure that everything was accounted for. Pete went through our accounts himself, whilst Morgan and I grumbled like hell about having to clean our main headquarters in the tunnel complex beneath Celebration Park from top to bottom. We were holed up in the old access tunnels which were no longer used by anyone but the rats. We received reasonably fresh air from the ventilation grills still scattered throughout the park, but nothing we did got rid of the permanent sewer stench. To be honest, after a couple of weeks in the tunnels, I didn’t even notice the smell any more. We weren’t going to be in the tunnels for longer than a month or two, so there was no point in bellyaching about it. We all just got on with it. Morgan and I made sure each tunnel was secure and our warning devices on the grills were in place and working.
At last, when Pete was reasonably satisfied, we all sat down for our dinner – a take-away meal of burger and chips.
‘Why isn’t there anyone outside guarding the main entrance?’
I recognized that voice at once. I leapt up, shocked. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Unless you’re in charge here, I’d sit down and shut up if I were you,’ came the reply.
‘I’m in charge,’ Pete stood up slowly.
‘You should’ve been expecting me. I’m your new lieutenant,’ said my brother, Jude. ‘And I asked you a question. Why is no-one outside guarding the main entrance?’
I sat down slowly, never taking my eyes off my brother. He turned and looked at me, his eyes burning into mine and I knew right then and there that he still didn’t quite trust me. And that everyone in our cell was in danger because of it.
ninety-one. Sephy
It was time to go back home. I’d finished my end-of-year exams and the summer holidays had already started. And I didn’t have to wait for the results to know that I’d passed all my subjects. So, as Mother had tersely pointed out, there was no reason for me not to go home. Except that I really didn’t want to go back. Over two and a half years away from home and to be honest, I had no desire whatsoever to return. I’d dragged my feet for two weeks but August had started and Mother wasn’t taking no for an answer. I’d run out of excuses. Mother and Minnie had been up to see me a few times – sometimes together, a few times apart, but somehow I’d always managed to avoid reciprocating. There was always something stopping me – a holiday with this friend, a long visit to that friend, the excuses had been trotted out one after another. Backpacking, camping, overseas expeditions, you name it, I went on them. Anything to keep me away from home. And I’d got away with it.
But not this time. Mother was putting her foot down and insisting. So I had no choice. If I’d had my way, I’d’ve been seventy not seventeen-going-on-eighteen when I returned home. I hated that place. So many bad memories. Too many.
Karl was sent to pick me up at Chivers. On the long drive home, we barely exchanged a word once the platitudes were over. He was fine, everyone in his family was fine, I was fine, school was fine – end of conversation! It was a long drive home!
Getting home was a bit of an anti-climax too. Minnie was spending the week with one of her friends and Mother was out on one of her rare visits to her Aunt Paulina and had left a message on our answering-machine saying that her car had broken down on the motorway so she’d be late getting home. To be honest, not meeting up with Mother immediately was a bit of relief. I still hadn’t worked out how I was going to handle her. Should I be all sunshine and flowers and smile and take nothing seriously? Or should I be morose and sombre and take everything she said too seriously? Either way, there was no way I was going to stay put for more than a few days. I’d lined up a summer job with a law practice near to Chivers school and I had one week before I was due to start. One week. The new term didn’t start until October and Mother was expecting me to stay for the rest of the summer break. Some hope.
‘Welcome home, Miss Sephy,’ Sarah hugged me as she emerged from the study. I hugged her back.
‘It’s good to see you, Sarah,’ I smiled.
Sarah looked around quickly. ‘A certain someone found out that you were due home today and he left a message for you.’
She whipped out a folded brown envelope from her pocket and stuffed it into my hand. Without another word, Sarah disappeared back into the study. No need to ask who it was from. I recognized the handwriting on the envelope at once. My heart bounced about at the mere sight of it. What did he want, after all this time? I should just put the letter in the bin. Yeah, right! In another lifetime maybe. I tore open the carefully sealed letter and began to read.
Dear Sephy,
I know it’s been a long time since we last met and you probably don’t even remember me any more. But if you do, please could we meet tonight around nine o’clock at our special place. It’s very important. But I’ll understand if you can’t make it. Two, almost three years is a long time. A lifetime.
C.
Why did he want to see me? Why was it important? All the feelings I thought I’d bundled up and thrown away years ago suddenly came rushing through me again. Did I really want to see him again? It didn’t take much intuition to realize that Callum was the one person who could upset my carefully constructed plans for what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Look at this! One letter and I was already confused and uncertain about what I should do next.
No! I wouldn’t do it. Callum had his life now and I had mine and they were worlds apart. But I hadn’t seen him in such a long time. And what harm could a short ten-minute meeting do? I was a big girl now! Not a child any more. I’d go and say hello and we’d pass the time by catching up with each other’s lives and then we’d part on better terms than happened years ago. Where was the harm in that?
Don’t go, Sephy . . .
Where’s the harm in that?
Don’t go . . .
Where’s the harm?
Don’t . . .
ninety-two. Callum
‘Is everyone clear about what they’re supposed to do?’ Jude asked.
Nods and grunts and a low-pitched, grumbled ‘Yeah! How many more times?’
‘She might not even come,’ I warned.
‘If she got your message, she’ll come,’ Jude announced. He gave me an assessing look. ‘What about you, little brother? You up for this?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ I asked, pulling on my black leather jacket.
‘We need to know we can count on you, on your loyalty,’ said Jude.
Everyone stopped what they were doing. The room grew very still. I regarded my brother, not attempting to disguise my hostility.
‘Meaning?’
Jude looked at me, but he didn’t say anything.
I looked around. ‘Which one of you doubts my loyalty then?’
Silence.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ I said.
‘You let us down, and I’m going to forget you’re my brother. Understand?’ said Jude.
I didn’t deign to answer. My brother could go rivet himself.
‘This is going to make us famous,’ said Morgan as he and Pete slapped hands in gleeful anticipation.
‘And rich!’ Jude grinned. ‘Just think about all that lovely money we’re going to be able to add to the Liberation Militia’s coffers.’
‘Come to Papa!’ Morgan laughed, rubbing his hands together.
‘And if this comes off,’ Jude said to Pete, ‘you’ll be able to write your own ticket. You’ll be able to set up your own L.M. division anywhere in the country.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Pete smiled.
It was the first smile he’d directed at my brother. The promise of a bigger and better army to lead had sweetened him up no end and all his resentment about being usurped by Jude seemed to have melted away.
<
br /> ‘Let’s not count our chickens,’ I said brusquely.
‘Ever the voice of doom, eh?’ Jude smiled. ‘If you do your part, nothing will go wrong. Nothing.’
ninety-three. Sephy
I took off my sandals and headed for the moonlit water. I couldn’t remember when I’d felt more at peace with myself. I’d finally got a lot of things straight in my head. Like Dad. For him, his political career came first, last and every number in between. Dad was never going to have any time for me and my sister and my mother. The only reason we’d been around at all was because a ‘stable’ family was a necessary, compulsory adjunct for a politician. And that was OK. That was the life Dad had chosen for himself and my days of pining about it were over.
I shifted my heels, then toes, to stop my feet from sinking into the wet sand. I kicked up the water lapping over my feet and ankles, watching it fly up and out in an arc of silvery droplets. Laughing, I did it again and again, alternating kicking feet, delighting in my childish game. And then I thought of my mother, and the game stopped.
Mother. I’d always be a disappointment to her. That was never going to change. I was simply not enough. Not ladylike enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough. Not enough. And that was OK too. Her life was her major disappointment, her mistakes carved into every premature line in her face, but I wasn’t going to let her use my life as her second chance. I had plans. In September I’d be eighteen years old and I had my whole life and the whole world in front of me. A world full of choices and decisions and opportunities – and they were all mine for the taking.
And as for Callum and me? Well, I didn’t want the moon. I was prepared to settle for friendship between us. It would never be the way it was years ago and it’d never be the way I wanted it to be, but maybe we could find something new to take the place of what we had before. Maybe.
I glanced at my watch, wondering where Callum had got to. I turned, almost as if thinking about Callum would conjure him up. I gasped. Callum was standing right behind me, his appearance so sudden that he might’ve been a ghost, able to appear and disappear at will. And he looked so different. He’d shot up like a beanstalk. He was lean now, rather than skinny. He’d definitely sprouted muscles! And his dark cords and leather jacket made him look . . . mysterious somehow. His hair was longer too, almost shoulder-length. It suited him. Everything about him seemed different. Callum the boy had disappeared and in his place . . . I smiled, chiding myself. It was as if I’d expected time to stand still for him. I’m glad it hadn’t though! Had I changed as much? I guess I must’ve.