Noughts & Crosses 2 page

'Is Nathan here?' I asked, folding up the newspaper article again and placing it in the drawer of my bedside table.

Mum's hands fell to her sides as she walked further into the room. I heard her sigh softly.

'Yes, he is. I invited him for dinner. Callie, d'you . . . d'you mind about Nathan and me? We haven't really had a chance to talk about him since . . . since your Nana died.'

'I don't mind at all, Mum,' I said honestly. 'In fact, I'm glad that you've got someone.'

Mum scrutinized my face, as if trying to gauge how many of my words were true. I met her gaze without flinching or even blinking. I meant every one.

'Something's bothering you about me and Nathan, though,' she said slowly.

I had to smile. Mum was so astute when it came to reading my expressions, far more astute than I had ever given her credit for.

'I was just thinking . . . what about you and Sonny?' I couldn't help asking.

Sonny was Mum's old boyfriend. The only trouble was, he was still in love with her and trying to win her back, even though Mum had told him she was going to marry Nathan.

'Sonny and I were the past. Nathan and I are the present.'

'Does Sonny know that?'

'I've told him often enough over the last few weeks.' Mum sighed again. 'It's time for all of us to move on. I can't live in the past. I won't.'

Was Mum trying to convince me – or herself ?

'Mum, are you and Nathan going to get married, or live together or what?'

'I don't know. We talked about getting married, but we might have to put our plans on hold,' Mum admitted. 'Nathan's business isn't doing too well and he's now thinking it might be better to wait.'

'And how d'you feel about that?'

'I think he's right. I . . . we don't want to rush into anything.'

'Mum, Nathan loves you, so why hang about?' I said. 'Life is too short.'

'I guess so,' Mum said faintly.

Was that doubt I heard in Mum's voice? It certainly sounded like it. I wasn't quite sure I got Mum and Nathan's relationship. It seemed to be an affair more of the head than the heart, at least on Mum's part. Sometimes, when she thought no one was watching, a sombre, thoughtful look clouded her eyes, and in those moments, I knew she was thinking about my dad. Once I'd been ashamed that my dad was Callum McGregor, a hanged terrorist. Not any more. And now that I knew just how much Mum and Dad had loved each other, I wasn't surprised that Mum found it hard to give her whole heart to anyone else. It gave me a strange feeling to know that my dad loved Mum and me so much, had sacrificed so much for us, even before I was born. A strange, warm, comforting, sad feeling.

Mum and I both stood in a brooding silence, until Mum opened her arms. I immediately stepped into her embrace. We hugged. Mum stroked my hair. Loving moments turned into peaceful minutes.

On my sixteenth birthday, I was reconciled with my mum. And I lost my nana. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. For a while, after Nana's death, I was so scared that my new relationship with my mum wouldn't last, that things would go back to the way they used to be between us, but thankfully, that hadn't happened. Oh, we'd had the odd hiccup and a couple of shouting matches, but Mum always allowed me to cool off and then she'd come and hug me and tell me that she loved me and my anger would burn away like early morning summer mist. I don't know how I would've coped with Nana Jasmine's death if it hadn't been for Mum. Tobey and Nana Meggie let me know they were there for me, but Mum had never left my side. At Nana Jasmine's funeral she'd held my hand throughout the service to let me know that I wasn't alone. And not once did Mum throw it back in my face that I'd made the bomb that killed Nana Jasmine. Not once. With each smile, each hug, every stroke of my hair she kept trying to tell me that she'd forgiven me. But how could I accept Mum's forgiveness when I knew I'd never forgive myself ?

'I love you very much, Callie Rose. You do know that, don't you? And there is nothing on this earth or beyond that could ever change that,' Mum said softly.

I found that so hard to believe, but Mum's face was an open book as she looked at me.

'D'you promise?' I whispered.

Mum smiled. 'Cross my heart.'

'Mum, I love you.'

Mum hugged me harder at that. And I wished . . . I wished so much that Nana Jasmine was still around to see it.

Three. Tobey

'Raoul, you blanker, get up!' Dan put his hands to his mouth and yelled so hard, my head started ringing.

'Godsake, Dan! My frickin' eardrums.'

'Sorry,' Dan said with a grin.

I sniffed around his shoulders before recoiling. 'Damn, Dan! Your pits are howling!'

Dan raised his arm to sniff at his armpits. He looked like a bird covering its head with its wing.

'Oh yeah, you're right!' he said, surprised.

I pushed his arm back down before he gassed everyone on the pitch. 'You do know that armpits can be washed, don't you?'

'I forgot to put on some deodorant today.' Dan grinned.

I mean, Godsake!

Our Monday evening football match was well under way. The July evening was still bright and uncomfortably hot. Within minutes of running around, my shirt was sticking to my armpits and my back. Dan and I were on opposing teams, both on the wing, supposedly marking each other. But mostly we were talking. We watched patiently as once again pain stopped play. Raoul was still rolling on the ground, clutching his lower leg like he was in a death scene in some bad straight-to-DVD movie.

The Wasteland, where we were playing (or Meadowview Park, as the local authority had it listed on their website), wasn't as busy as usual. Only enough guys had turned up for a seven-a-side football match, hence the reason I was playing. With a full complement of players I was usually relegated to one of the park benches. The Wasteland was a flat patch of rectangular land, with a children's adventure playground at one end and a flower garden enclosed by knee-high blunt railings at the other. Except the flower garden hadn't had any flowers in it for close to two decades, according to my mum. The criss-cross paths of concrete were now used by roller-bladers, skate-boarders and trick cyclists. Anyone using the park for any wheeled activity did so at their own peril – so the numerous signs posted around the place stated. I often wondered if that included pushing baby buggies and pulling shopping trolleys? Closer to the garden than the adventure playground was the football pitch, surrounded on all sides by rusting wire-mesh fencing. It wasn't much, but it was ours. And the football pitch was kept clean of dog crap and clear of litter. All the footballers in the neighbourhood saw to that.

Raoul finally stood up and shook out his leg. About time! The ball was kicked to me and I displayed semiadequate skills by getting rid of it asap – and to someone on my own side too, which made a change.

'So what d'you reckon?' Dan flashed his new watch about a centimetre away from my nose, twisting his forearm this way and that. It was so close I couldn't see it properly. Was he trying to poke out one of my eyeballs with the thing or what? And eau-de-stinky-pits was repeatedly punching at my nose again.

'The watch?' Dan prompted. 'What d'you think?'

'Does it shoot down low-flying aircraft?' I asked, taking a quick step back.

Dan pursed his lips. 'Not that it says in the manual.'

'Does it contain the nano-technology to drain a subdural haematoma?'

'That's the next model up from this one.'

'Then it tells the time, the same as my cheap effort,' I said.

'Yeah, but mine looks good and cost more than everything you have in your bedroom and then some.'

'Could you lower your arm before you kill me?' I pleaded.

Dan took pity on me and did as I asked.

'Your watch, did you buy it or acquire it?'

'I bought it, you blanker. And I have the receipt and sales certificate to prove it.' Dan frowned. 'You sound just like a Cross copper.'

I held up my hands. 'Hey, it's no skin off my nose where you got it from.'

'Well, I bought it with cash money, made from earning a living rather than dossing at school like some people I could mention.' Dan's frown lessened only slightly.

'And is it accurate?'

'Of course. It's guaranteed to lose only one second every hundred years.'

For the kind of money Dan must've forked out for his watch, it shouldn't lose any time at all – ever. And surely it did more than just turn two strips of arrow-shaped metal through three hundred and sixty degrees periodically?

'So what else does it do?' I asked.

'Nothing else. It's not some digital toy out of a cracker,' said Dan, preening. 'This is pure class.'

'But all it does is tell the time,' I repeated.

'Damn, Tobey. How are we friends? You don't have a clue,' Dan said, exasperated.

'It's a lovely watch, Dan,' I sighed. 'If I ever get married, it'll be to your watch.'

'Feel free to bugger off and die at any time.' Dan scowled.

I grinned. 'Only if you'll bury me with your watch over my heart.'

'Tobey . . .'

'OK, OK. I'll shut up now.'

Dan gave a reluctant smile. He was still annoyed at my lack of open fawning appreciation for his watch, but he'd get over it. I glanced over to the sidelines, wondering which of the girls standing there was Dan's latest girlfriend.

'How's your love life?' I asked.

'Non-existent, thank God!' Dan's reply was heartfelt.

'How's your sex life?'

Dan sighed. 'Non-existent, unfortunately. Talking of sex . . .' His eyes lit up. 'How's Callie Rose?'

Damn! I should've seen that coming. 'Dan, don't start.'

'What?' said Dan, acting the innocent. 'I'm just asking if you two are still an item?'

'We are,' I said firmly.

''Cause if you're not,' Dan continued as if I hadn't spoken, 'I wouldn't mind some of that. She's extra fit – for a Cross.'

'Callie isn't a Cross.'

'She ain't one of us either,' said Dan.

'Then what is she?' I asked, annoyed.

'Extra fit – I already told you.'

We stood in silence for a while. Why had I been so quick to deny that Callie was a Cross? Maybe because I still couldn't quite believe she'd chosen me over Lucas. I couldn't help wondering if she'd wake up one morning and realize . . . realize that she could do better.

'Tobey, chill. I was only messing with your head a bit.'

'I know. Remind me to pay you back for that later,' I replied.

If only I had the money for watches and bracelets and all the things Callie deserved. If only . . . I took hold of Dan's arm to give his watch a proper look.

'That is one cool watch, though,' I admitted.

'You could afford a watch like this too, you know. And more besides,' said Dan.

'You know my job only pays minimum wage.' I shrugged. My Saturday job of almost a year was roughly twenty per cent selling mobile phones and eighty per cent listening to customers whinge. It just about paid for my school stationery and a few textbooks, and that was it. 'So at that rate I should be able to afford a watch like yours in about – what? Five or six years?'

'Selling mobile phones isn't the only game in town,' Dan said pointedly.

'It's the only game I'm interested in playing,' I replied.

'Aren't you tired of having nothing?'

And that was just it. Because I was tired of having no money. All the things I could do, all the things I could be if I had money kept slipping into my head like mental gate-crashers.

'You could just make deliveries like me,' Dan continued. 'Dropping off a package here, picking up a parcel there.'

For the first time, I started to listen. 'I don't know . . .' I began.

Sensing hesitation like a shark sensing blood, Dan pounced. 'Tobey, it's easy money. Think of all the things you could do if you were holding folding. You could save up to get out of this place for a start.'

'Is that what you're doing?' I couldn't help but ask.

'Nah. If I had your brains, then maybe. But it's this or do something like take food orders and nothing else for the rest of my life. And guess what, that don't appeal. But with your smarts, Tobey, in two years you could be anything you wanted 'cause you'd have the cash to do it.'

Packages . . . deliveries . . . Dan made it sound so innocuous. So very easy.

'Who d'you deliver these packages to?' I asked.

'The people who need them or want them or should have them.'

'And who d'you deliver these packages for?' As if I couldn't guess. 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't the post office.

Dan smiled. 'Does it matter? I pick up the packages and the addresses that each one should be taken to and that's all I know or care about. Tobey, think of the money you could make. I'm tired of having your broke arse trailing behind me all the time.'

Waving the two most eloquent fingers on each hand in his direction, I thought about what he'd said.

If I had money, Callie and me . . .

I cut the thought off at the pockets. I couldn't start thinking that way. I'd go mad if I started thinking that way.

But after all, it was just deliveries.

The odd parcel delivery couldn't hurt.

Unless I got caught . . .

I shook my head, trying to dislodge all visions of cascading money. 'I don't think so, Dan. I just want to go to school and keep my head down.'

'School.' Dan snorted derisively. 'I hope your school isn't going to make you forget who you are.'

Inside, I went very still. 'And what is that exactly?'

'You're a Nought, Tobey. And going to your fancy school isn't going to change that.'

'I wouldn't want school to change that.'

'Some of our friends already think you've sold out. It's up to you to prove that you haven't,' Dan told me.

Sold out? What the—?

'I don't have to prove a damned thing, Dan.'

'Hey.' Dan raised a placating hand. 'I'm only telling you what some of our friends are saying about you.'

Friends? My eyes narrowed as I thought of my so-called friends.

Dan stepped back from the look on my face. 'I'm just saying, you have to be careful that your brain doesn't get smart at the expense of your head getting stupid.'

'Wanting to do something with my life isn't selling out,' I said, banking down my resentment with difficulty. 'Wanting something more than all this isn't selling out.'

'Tell that to Raoul and—'

'No, I'm telling it to you. That crap doesn't even make it to ignorant. Going to school so I can think for myself, so I can make something of myself, is selling out now, is it? We don't need the Crosses to keep us down with that kind of thinking. We'll do it to ourselves.'

Dan took another step back. 'Listen, I was just—'

'The next time Raoul or anyone else starts spouting that bollocks, you send them to me to say it to my face,' I said furiously. 'I'm going to go to school and keep my head down until I can get out of Meadowview and that's all there is to it.'

'Tobey, wake up. That's not even an option,' Dan stated. 'And McAuley can protect you. He's great, almost like a dad to me. Besides which, he's one of us.'

One of us . . .

McAuley was a gangster, pure and not so simple. But his being a Nought was enough mitigation as far as Dan was concerned. McAuley fancied himself as a Nought kingpin. He took his cut of every crooked deal that went down in Meadowview – that's if the Dowd family didn't get in first. The Dowds were the Cross family who ran all the illegal activities in Meadowview that McAuley didn't already have his grubby hands on. Or maybe it was the other way around. Who could tell? They both offered protection to any lowlife who pledged allegiance. Bottom-feeding Noughts tended to join McAuley. Scumbag Crosses joined forces with the Dowds. Criminal fraternity segregation.

A while ago some Nought hooli called Jordy Carson tried to take on the Dowds. He vanished like a fart in the wind. And waiting in the wings to take his place was his second-in-command, Alex McAuley. Everyone said McAuley had learned from his old boss's mistakes. McAuley had no intention of 'disappearing'. So he made sure everyone knew his name and his game. Trouble was, McAuley was even worse than Carson. I guess that for the Dowds and McAuley there was plenty of misery around for everyone to make a profit. Those of us who had to live in Meadowview – the poorer Crosses and us Noughts with a whole heap of not much – saw to that. One of us? Yeah, right.

'The point is, the no-man's-land you want to live on doesn't exist, not for either of us,' Dan continued. 'If you don't pick a side soon, you'll be nowhere.'

'Yeah, but Nowhere looks like a peaceful place to be – especially around here,' I said.

'Nowhere will get you dead,' said Dan. 'On the inside you'll be protected, you'll have back up. McAuley looks after his own. What d'you have at the moment?'

'I have you, Dan.' I smiled.

'Very funny.'

'I know you'll always have my back.'

'Don't rely on that, Tobey,' Dan said quietly.

My smile faded. Dan and I regarded each other.

'Oi, you two! This ain't a chat show,' Liam, the captain of my side, yelled out. 'Kick the damned ball.'

Dan and I both made a show of getting back in the game, but although my body ran around the Wasteland trying to look useful, my head was elsewhere. When pain stopped play again, I stood slightly behind Dan as we both waited for the game to restart and the ball to head our way.

I couldn't help thinking about what he had said.

I felt like I'd been asleep and had just been kicked awake. I'd always assumed that Dan would have my back and vice versa. But Dan running errands for McAuley had evidently changed all that. I'd blinked and missed it. Hell, I'd blinked and my world was suddenly a lot more complicated.

Years ago, I thought that getting into Heathcroft High School was it, the be-all and end-all of my existence. I'd thought that all I needed to do was keep my head down and my grades up to make it through. After school, I'd go to university and at the end of all that, I'd be something big in the financial markets. I had it all figured out. I wanted a job that'd make me tons of money. But that was stuff for the future. I'd forgotten that I still needed to make it through the here and now first. The present was filled to overflowing with McAuley and the Dowds and needing to belong to a gang just to be able to walk the streets. The present was all about friends who had your back and turning away from those who didn't. The present was hard work, not to mention dangerous.

I realized Dan had been right about one thing.

The no-man's-land I was clinging to wasn't firm ground at all, but quicksand.

Four. Tobey

At school the next day, Dan's words kept ringing in my head. I walked home alone because Callie had a singing lesson after school, and I still couldn't forget what Dan had said. I'd barely shut the front door before my sister Jessica emerged from the living room. She was wearing faded jeans and a long-sleeved red T-shirt that was now more faded pink than any other colour. Her light-brown hair shot out in gelled spikes around her head. Her lips were already pinned back into a mocking smile. My heart sank. I knew what that look meant. I took off my school jacket and tossed it over the banister.

'How come you're not at work?' I frowned.

'It's my day off,' Jessica replied. 'What's with that face?'

'I'm having a bad day, Jessica. So back off.'

'How about we meditate together?' my sister suggested.

And the sad thing was, she was serious. She's into all that hippy-dippy, transcendental, rental-mental bollocks. Or at least, she was this fortnight. A month ago kick boxing had been the way to cure all of society's ills. And the month before that it'd been colour therapy. Apparently the reason I was so permanently irritable was because I wore too much blue and ate too much red and brown.

I walked past her towards the kitchen. 'Jess, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense this evening, I'm really not.'

'Tobey, what you need to do is submerge yourself in Lake You,' said Jess, following me. 'Get to know your true self . . .'

Lake You . . . Godsake!

'Jessica, get away from me,' I said.

'What's the matter, Tobey? Girlfriend giving you trouble?'

'Feel free to drop dead at any time.'

'Ooh! Sounds like you didn't get any under or over the clothes action today,' Jessica laughed.

I glared at her, but from the huge, moronic grin on my sister's face, she still didn't get the message. It took a lot to bring Jess down.

'Just how far have you two gone anyway?' she asked.

I went over to the fridge. If I ignored her, maybe she'd take the unsubtle hint and bog off.

'Come on, Tobey. Tell all. Inquiring minds want to know,' Jessica teased.

I opened the fridge door. 'Jess, what can I get you? Orange juice? Lemonade? Your own business?'

'Your business is my business,' Jessica informed me.

I grabbed a can of ginger beer and pushed past her.

'Tetchy!' Jessica called after me. 'Someone isn't getting any.'

Godsake! This was all I needed. First Dan. Now my sister.

'Jessica, go away,' I told her.

'Definitely not getting any,' Jessica called after me.

I headed out into the hall just as the front doorbell sounded. Being closest, I opened the door.

'Hi, Tobey. Ready to work on our history project?'

I frowned, moving out of Callie's way as she swept past me. I sniffed silently. Callie was wearing the cinnamonspice perfume I'd given her last Crossmas. She never wore anything else now. Damn, but I loved the way she smelled.

'I thought you didn't want to do it until tomorrow.' I frowned. 'And what happened to your singing lesson?'

'Mr Seacole is ill today so my lesson was cancelled. I tried to find you at lunch time to tell you, but you were wearing your cloak of invisibility.' Callie graced me with an accusatory stare. 'I just got home and Nathan is round again, and he and Mum are making cow eyes at each other, so it was stay at home and be sick down my blouse or come and see you.'

'I take it I only just won?'

'It was close,' Callie agreed with a smile.

Callie wore her dark-brown hair tied back in her usual plaited ponytail. She'd changed out of her school uniform and into denim jeans and a light-pink, tight pink, long-sleeved T-shirt. A figure-hugging, curve-clinging, lightpink, tight pink, long-sleeved T-shirt. Dark-blue sandals showed off her unpainted toenails. She was five feet seven and most of it seemed to consist of legs. Legs and boobs. I forced myself to focus on Callie's face before she decked me. She started up the stairs to my bedroom.

'You got our history notes?' she asked, turning back to me.

I dug out my memory stick from my trouser pocket and waved it at her. I didn't go anywhere without it. 'It's all on here.'

'Hi, Callie. You OK?'

'I'm fine thanks, Jessica.' Callie smiled at my sister. 'Tobey and I are doing our history project together.'

'Enjoy,' said Jessica. 'Just remember to keep the bedroom door open and at least one foot on the floor at all times.'

'Ha frickin' ha,' I called out as I followed Callie up the stairs.

Jessica cracked up laughing. She really thought she was funny. My sister was older than me by only eighteen months and although she worked part-time as a hairdresser, she still lived at home. On her wages, she'd be at home until she was a pensioner. I wasn't going to settle for that. No way.

There'd come a day when I'd have money dripping out of cupboards. I'd promised myself that from the time I started at Heathcroft. Success was all a matter of mental attitude. And I had the right stuff. I was going to be rich – by any means necessary. Any legal means, of course. No way was I going to make my money with the shadow of prison hanging over my head. At least the shadow of the noose had now been permanently removed. And about time too.

Callie turned at the top of the stairs to grin at me. I was well aware of how much me and my sister amused her. But Jessica knew exactly what to say to wind me up. Especially when she teased me about Callie. Actually, now I come to think about it, only when she teased me about Callie.

Once we reached my bedroom, I must admit, I closed my bedroom door a little louder than was absolutely necessary. I was more than a little annoyed at my sister's dense comments. What if Jessica's teasing put Callie off coming to my room at all?

'Tobey, should I strip off and lie on the bed?' Callie asked. 'That'd really give your sister something to tease you about!'

'Yes, please.' I grinned. If only.

'You wish,' Callie scoffed.

Yeah, I did actually.

'I can dream, can't I?' I gave a mock sigh.

I took off my school shirt and put on a clean white T-shirt pulled out of my wardrobe. Thanks, Mum! I decided to leave my school trousers where they were, on my body. I wasn't in the mood to listen to Callie tease me about my 'skinny uncooked chicken legs', as she kept calling them. I sat at my tiny desk, connecting my memory stick to the family computer, which stayed in my room as I used it the most.

'Tobey, all joking aside, why don't you tell your sister we're just friends?' Callie stated.

I glanced away so that Callie couldn't see my face. 'I've tried, but she didn't believe me.'

'I've told Jess more than once that you don't think of me as anything but a pain in the neck, but she didn't believe me either. I wonder why?' Callie frowned, sitting down on my bed. She glanced at her watch. 'How long d'you reckon today?'

'I give her three minutes.' I sighed, for real this time. 'And counting.'

'Nah. I reckon seven minutes, fifteen seconds,' said Callie. 'Your sister will want to wait until she thinks we're really into something before she bursts through the door.'

'You're wrong. Two or three minutes at the most. Any longer and she'll be afraid she's missing something.'

'What has she heard about you that I haven't?' Callie frowned. 'Bit of a fast lover, are you?'

Careful, Tobey . . .

'I've never had any complaints,' I replied.

Callie regarded me, a strange expression on her face before she turned away to trace the lightning-fork pattern on my duvet. 'Well, we're not all as easily pleased as Misty.'

Misty? What on earth did this have to do with Misty? More to the point, what did it take to please Callie? Had Lucas already given her some idea about that? Our conversation was spiralling away from me dangerously. Nothing I said now would come out right, so better to say nothing.

Callie stood up and headed for my desk. 'Let's see all this cool stuff you've come up with for our project then.'

I tried to access the files on the memory stick, but the computer didn't even recognize that a memory stick was connected. After trying twice more, I tried to access it directly via the operating system. Weird symbols and hieroglyphics scrolled across my screen.

'Tobey, where are my files?' Callie's voice was low, her question rhetorical. She could see as well as I could what had happened to her files.

'This isn't my fault,' I said quickly. 'I only bought this thing last month. It's supposed to be state of the art.'

'State of the another-word-beginning-with-A more like,' Callie said in disgust. 'Tobey, I really don't want to have to do all my sections again.'

'Didn't you take a backup of your notes?' I said.

'Not the latest version, no. I changed some stuff at school before loading it onto your memory stick, then I deleted the files afterwards. And what about all the film clips you added and the other stuff you said you did at school? Are they gone too?'

I nodded. 'I'll just have to do it all again. Don't worry, it'll only take me a couple of hours.' I tried to reassure Callie, knowing full well I'd lost a lot more than two days' work. It would take ages to add all the graphics and re-edit all the film clips I'd included in our presentation. Godsake!

'What happened to your memory key? Did you microwave it or something?'

'Or something.' I pulled the wretched thing out of the USB port and scowled down at it.

'Take it back to the shop you bought it from and get a refund,' said Callie.

I nodded, not holding out much hope. I had no idea where I'd put the receipt. I returned the memory stick to my pocket, mightily cheesed off. Maybe the shop would exchange it without the receipt as I didn't want my money back.

Callie headed back to my bed. 'Well, we can still carry on with the rest of our report. And I'll update my sections when I get back home.' She glanced at her watch as she sat down. 'If your sister is about to burst in on us, you'd better come over here and sit next to me. After all, you wouldn't want to disappoint her.'

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 566