Twenty-three. Callie 11 page

'Rebecca, you like your meat rare too, don't you?' Gideon said pointedly, looking from Rebecca to me and back again.

Tosser.

'I'm a vegetarian, Gideon – as you very well know,' Rebecca replied.

I chewed on another mouthful. The steak was served with matchstick-thin chips and assorted vegetables. I cleared my plate. The dessert was lemon tart served with lime sorbet. It was foul, bitter and nasty. But I ate all of that too.

After dinner, Rebecca barely said five sentences to me. I gave it half an hour, but when she still wouldn't talk to me I decided I'd truly outstayed my welcome. I was quite prepared to phone for a taxi, but Rebecca insisted on driving me home. All the way home, she'd only speak to me when spoken to, so we quickly lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Doubt had raised its ugly head and Rebecca was backing away from me.

As we pulled up outside my house, I tried one last time to get her to talk to me properly.

'Rebecca, would you like to come in and meet my mum and sister?' I asked.

She looked surprised, then pleased, but the light in her eyes soon faded. 'No, I . . . No, thanks. Better not.'

I sighed. 'Look, Rebecca, I never lied to you.'

'You never told me the truth either,' she replied. 'And you promised me, Tobey. Look, I have to go home. Mum's orders.'

'Can we meet up tomorrow? We need to talk.'

Rebecca started to shake her head.

'Please. I need to talk to you.'

'All right then,' she said reluctantly. 'When and where?'

'How about tomorrow outside Los Amigos at seven?'

'I'm not sure I want a meal.'

With me.

'Well, we can meet there and find a coffee shop nearby.'

'OK. I'll see you at seven.' At least it wasn't a straight-out no. Rebecca drove off the moment I was clear of her car.

I was getting the chilly treatment and, to be honest, I didn't blame her. I should've told her up front about McAuley. I'd thought about it, I really had, but had decided it would look too much like I was just trying to manipulate her. Big mistake.

I entered my house and went straight up to my room. Sitting on my bed, I thought through everything that had happened since Callie was injured. Before then, my life had seemed so neatly stitched together. It scared me just how easily everything fell to pieces.

There was a knock at my door. Before I could answer, Jessica walked into my room. Her typically unruly, spiked hair lay un-gelled and tamed in a pixie cut framing her face. And for once she wasn't wearing make-up. She smiled at me, albeit hesitantly. I was instantly on my guard.

'Have you come to get me into more trouble with Mum?' I asked with belligerence.

'Don't be like that . . .'

Was she serious?

'Jessica, what d'you want?'

'I want us back to the way we used to be,' she said.

'Then tell Mum the truth,' I replied.

Jessica looked me in the eye. 'I did. At least, part of it.'

'Jess, I'm not the one in this family who's into drugs,' I pointed out.

'No, you're just into money,' she said. 'And it's all right for you, 'cause you're smart. You have a real chance to make some and get out of this place. What're the rest of us supposed to do, Tobey?'

'I don't know. But you'll never find the answer in waxed paper wrappers.'

'I'm not looking for the answer.'

'Then what are you looking for?'

'A way to not mind so much about the question.'

'Jessica, that stuff will stop you minding about anything, except more junk,' I said.

'I know.'

'Then please stop taking it.'

'It's that easy, is it?'

'No. But Mum and I are here to help you.'

'I'll think about it.'

So much for that then. 'D'you want me to tell Mum for you?'

Jessica's eyes narrowed. 'Is that a threat?'

'No,' I said, exasperated. 'I'm trying to help. Can't you see that?'

'No, I can't,' said Jessica. 'You only want to help me your way, not my way.'

What was she on about? I really wasn't in the mood for a big argument so I let it slide.

I sighed. 'Are you still using?'

At first I thought she wasn't going to answer. 'Tobey,' she said at last, 'I'm not one of your maths problems. OK?'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning not every problem has a solution.'

'I know that.'

'No, you don't. That's the trouble. In your world A plus B equals C. It works for maths so you expect it to work for people too.'

'That's not true.'

'Isn't it?' asked Jessica. 'You assume you've got me all figured out. I bet you even think you know why I started on smack in the first place.'

'I thought maybe it had something to do with your course at college,' I admitted.

'You think I'm going to fail?'

I shrugged. It seemed logical.

'Tobey, I did my exam and submitted enough coursework to scrape a pass. My marks won't be setting any college records, but I did pass,' Jessica told me. 'So what does that do to your theory now?'

'All right then. Tell me why you started taking that stuff,' I challenged.

Sadly, she shook her head. 'Tobey, I did just tell you.'

'I don't understand.'

'I know,' said Jessica. 'And you never will until you experience the one thing that drunks and druggies and all the miserable, lonely, unhappy people in this world share.'

'And what's that?' I asked.

'Work it out.'

And she was gone.

Sixty-two. Callie

How can I have slept for so long? It feels like I just nodded off, like I've been out of it for a day, maybe two max. I stopped. The world didn't. Time moved on without me. So did Tobey.

Who is Rebecca?

Just a girl? His girl friend? Or his girlfriend? I thought . . . Tobey and me . . . I thought . . . But I was wrong. He has someone else now. Rebecca. And what do I have? Uncle Jude and this hospital bed. I'm trying so hard to be glad for Tobey. I'm trying so desperately hard not to mind – or care. But though I've never met Rebecca, I hate her. I hate her for taking Tobey away from me, for being there when he needed someone.

I've woken up to find all the bad things in my life have been waiting patiently for me and all the good things have gone. Uncle Jude is out there, biding his time. I'm surprised he didn't visit me when I was unconscious and finish the job. Or maybe he wants me wide awake to fully appreciate when he takes his revenge. I still have to live with the fact that an innocent man is dead because of me. That hasn't gone away either. That fact has eaten an even bigger hole inside of me, because I'm still here, I've survived. And Robert Powers didn't. Is this karma? In the world of 'what goes around, comes around', maybe I'm getting what I deserve. I just wish someone would tell me when it'll stop hurting so much.

All I want is for Tobey to hold me tight and tell me that everything will be all right between us. Who am I trying to fool? All I want is Tobey.

But he's moved on.

And I'm stuck here.

And I've never felt so alone.

Sixty-three

The following morning, me, Mum and Jess all sat down to have breakfast together again. Mum sipped at her orange juice. Jessica picked at her cereal. I stirred my coffee round and round. For once I didn't have much of an appetite. Every time I looked up, Jessica was looking at me. Should I say something to Mum? Should I try? I still hadn't worked out what my sister had been trying to tell me the night before. And I was desperate not to make things any worse.

'Mum, I lied to you about Tobey,' Jessica said unexpectedly.

Mum frowned at her. 'Pardon?'

'Tobey hasn't been dealing drugs. I only told you that because he threatened to tell you . . . to tell you that I'd been s-smoking . . . smack.'

'Jessica, please tell me you're joking,' Mum said, appalled.

Jessica bowed her head, unable to say a word.

'You've been taking drugs?' Mum whispered. 'Oh, Jessica.'

A tear followed in quick succession by a host of others fell from Jessica's eyes onto the table.

I looked from Mum to my sister, holding my breath.

'Oh, Jessica . . .' Mum got up and hugged Jess to her. Jess fell into her embrace and started to sob her heart out.

'Tobey, could you leave us alone for a while?' Mum asked.

I headed for the door, wondering what had happened to make Jess change her mind about telling Mum. Maybe she'd meant it about getting things back to the way they used to be. God knows that was all I wanted as well. But somehow it felt like those days were over, never to return.

Jessica and Mum were in the living room with the door shut for over an hour, almost two. I went up to my room and wrote an email to Callie. An email I knew I'd never send, but I had more than a few things to get off my chest. And it helped – a little. A very little.

I couldn't put it off any longer. It was time for another letter. I didn't have time to go to the library again so my own computer would just have to do. And this was just the sort of carelessness that could get me caught, but I had to do it now before I changed my mind.

Wearing a pair of my mum's rubber gloves this time to ensure I ended up with a sheet of fingerprint-free paper, I drafted my third and final letter. My brain must've been temporarily scrambled by a cosmic ray to believe I could use McAuley's last shipment for my own ends. Either that or scrambled by greed. But not any more.

I wanted no part of it.

My letter to the police was short and to the point, telling them everything I knew about McAuley's last drop-off. The man would be out of business, but it still didn't feel like enough. I was beginning to realize that nothing ever would. I placed the letter in a printed envelope addressed to DI Boothe. Time to get out of the house. Besides, I couldn't stand the silence any longer. Grabbing my jacket off the banister, I thought about just heading out the door without saying a word. But I couldn't do that to my mum. That was my dad's trick.

'Mum, I'm going to see Callie at the hospital,' I called through the still closed living-room door.

After a few seconds the door opened. Mum stood there, her eyes slightly red. She'd obviously been crying. And from where I stood in the hall, I couldn't see my sister.

'Are you OK, Mum?' I asked.

Mum nodded.

'If you want me to stay, I will.'

'No, that's OK. Say hello to Callie for me.'

'Is Jess OK?' I lowered my voice to ask.

'No. But she will be,' Mum said with determination. She looked up at me and stroked my cheek. 'I love you, Tobey. You know that, don't you?'

Whenever Mum told me she loved me, my response was invariably, 'I know.' As it was today. But today my usual response didn't feel like nearly enough.

'Mum, I . . . I . . . I have to go.'

She smiled at my discomfort, stroking my cheek again. 'Give Callie my love.'

'I will.' I practically sprinted out of the door.

I'd wanted to say it, I really had. But I'd never said those words to anyone in my life and I couldn't just start now. But Mum knew. She had to know. And now that she knew the truth about Jessica, everything would be OK. It had to be.

Now it was time to put things right between Callie and me.

Sixty-four

Dropping my letter in the postbox outside the hospital, I headed into the building. Five minutes later, I took a deep breath and walked into Callie's room. Every cell in my body told me this was a bad idea, but I needed to see her. Her head was turned away from the door. She was looking out of the window towards the park beyond. I stood in the doorway, watching her, drinking in her stillness. Apart from the occasional blink, no other part of her body beneath the bedcovers moved.

'Hello, Callie,' I said softly.

'Hello, Tobey,' Callie replied without looking at me.

That hurt. I swallowed hard before I could trust myself to speak again.

'May I come in?'

Callie nodded.

I entered the room and sat in one of the chairs by her bed. She still wasn't looking at me.

'How're you feeling?' I asked. 'Have you remembered a bit more?'

Like the night we spent together?

Please remember being with me, Callie. Please remember making love with me. Otherwise I'll start to doubt my own memories. I'm already beginning to wonder. Maybe the whole thing was a dream, wishful thinking, nothing more than a fantasy.

Callie shrugged. How I wished she'd look at me.

'How's Rebecca?' she asked.

All kinds of explanations raced through my head. But that's where they stayed.

'She's fine,' I replied. 'We're having dinner once I leave here.'

Godsake! Why did I say that? To get a reaction? Because I have a big mouth? Or, God help me, to get back at Callie for not remembering our night together?

Callie turned to look at me. I had to force myself not to look away.

'Will I get to meet her?'

I shrugged. We regarded each other.

'My doctor says I can go home later today,' said Callie. 'Once I'm strong enough, maybe you, me and Rebecca can get together.'

'OK,' I agreed, knowing full well it'd never happen.

Rebecca wasn't stupid. One look at Callie and she'd know which way the wind was blowing. Head bent, Callie laced her bedsheet in and out of her fingers. She wasn't the only one who was nervous.

'I've got most of my memory back now,' she said, looking at me again. 'I still don't remember the time around the shooting. But I remember everything else.'

'Oh.'

The time around the shooting? How did Callie quantify that? Two minutes before the shooting, or two hours or two days or two weeks before?

'Is that it?' she asked. 'Is that all you have to say?'

'What would you like me to say?' I asked.

Silence. The tension between us expanded like a balloon too full of air. An explosion was about to happen. I didn't have long to wait.

'Tobey,' My name burst from Callie's lips. 'Why did you—?'

Sephy and Meggie chose just that moment to walk in. Thank goodness for bad timing. Callie's look of frustration didn't go unnoticed. Sephy kissed her daughter's forehead before sitting down. Meggie did the same.

Sephy glared at me, her brown eyes giving me frostbite.

'Hello, Tobey,' said Meggie.

'Hello.' I wasn't sure what else to say.

I knew I should leave, but I didn't want to. Not now. Not yet. Meggie looked from Callie to me and back again. She sighed.

'Callie, I . . . I have something to tell you,' she began. 'And I don't want to put it off any longer.' She and Sephy exchanged a look before she continued. 'It's about . . . Jude.'

Callie flinched as if the word was a physical thing that had struck her.

'Tobey told me that you're . . . worried my son is alive and that he'll come after you.'

Though Callie didn't reply, Meggie had her full attention. I watched Callie avidly.

'Tobey, could you wait for us outside, please,' said Sephy. And it wasn't a request.

'No, Mum. I want Tobey to stay,' said Callie.

'But this is private family business,' Sephy began.

'I have no secrets from Tobey.' Callie looked at me as she spoke, her expression sombre. The words were said almost in a monotone, yet she still managed to make it sound like an accusation. Then she sighed. 'Will you stay, Tobey?'

I nodded. I wasn't going anywhere. Not whilst Callie needed me.

Meggie took a deep breath, closed her eyes momentarily, then spoke. 'Callie, love, Jude is dead. He died in the Isis Hotel bomb blast along with Jasmine.'

Callie shook her head. 'Uncle Jude isn't dead. The news said some man called Robert Powers . . .'

'Robert Powers was the alias Jude used. My son was infamous, notorious – and proud of it.' Bitterness hardened Meggie's voice. 'He knew that he wasn't going to die in bed of old age. He set up an alternate identity, complete with dental and doctor's records, a driver's licence, the works – and all under the name Robert Powers.'

'But how could he get an ID card and driver's licence?' asked Sephy. 'You have to produce a birth certificate to obtain those.'

'The real Robert Powers was born in the same year as Jude and killed over fifteen years ago in a road accident. Apparently it's a well-known Liberation Militia tactic. Send off for the birth certificate of someone who has died and then use it to get all kinds of official documentation like passports,' said Meggie. 'So that's who Jude became and I was sworn to secrecy. He told me that if anything happened to him, his false ID would make sure that I wasn't hounded by the police and the press.'

'But the police must've had Uncle Jude's fingerprints.' It was as if Callie was afraid to let herself believe it. 'They had to be on a police database somewhere.'

'Callie, the explosion took out the top floor of the hotel. Jude's body was too badly damaged to identify using fingerprints. All the police had to work with were some teeth to match to dental records,' said Meggie. 'Please believe me, Callie, my son and Robert Powers are . . . were . . . one and the same person. I paid anonymously for Robert Powers's headstone. I even visit his grave occasionally to lay some flowers. Jude is dead.'

Meggie bowed her head. Sephy slipped an arm around her shoulder and whispered some words of comfort into her ear. I glanced across at Callie. Tears were flowing down her cheeks like a waterfall. I sprang up to go to her, but she shook her head, impatiently wiping the tears from her face.

'I'm OK,' she told me. 'I need to do this, before I bottle out.'

I knew what was coming. I moved to stand beside Callie's bed. Sephy looked from me to Callie, suspicion creeping into her eyes.

'Callie?' she prompted.

'Nana Meggie, you need to know something,' Callie began, fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks. 'The bomb that killed Uncle Jude and Nana Jasmine, I . . . I m-made it.'

Meggie stood up slowly and bent to kiss Callie's forehead. 'I know,' she said.

Callie stared at her. 'You . . . you know?'

'I've always known.'

'I don't understand.' Callie shook her head. 'Did Mum tell you? Why did you never say anything?'

'Your mum never said a word.' Meggie hastened to reassure her.

'Besides, what was there to say?' asked Sephy, as she moved to stand next to Meggie. 'I didn't realize what Mother was going to do until it was too late. I thought . . . Well, it doesn't matter what I thought.'

'Nana Meggie, how did you know if Mum didn't tell you?' asked Callie.

'Jasmine told me what my son was making you do,' said Meggie. 'She got in touch with me . . . and told me.'

'Do you know what happened that day?' Callie asked. 'Did Nana Jasmine decide to confront Uncle Jude? Did the bomb go off by accident?'

Callie turned to me, uncertainty written on her face, so she missed the swift look Sephy and Meggie exchanged. But I didn't. Callie's mum and grandma were both hiding something.

'Mum?' Callie prompted.

Sephy said gently, 'Love, I wasn't there. I was with you, remember? But I'm sure it happened something like that. Callie, you mustn't blame yourself.'

Meggie added, 'It was an accident, love.'

'You think so?' Callie whispered. 'You really think it was an accident?'

Sephy and Meggie glanced at each other again. There was so much shared history between them that all they needed was a passing look to exchange volumes.

'Callie, we love you very much,' said Meggie. 'And Jasmine felt the same. She went to confront my son and . . . and the bomb went off. And the last person you should blame is yourself. I knew what my son was. So did Jasmine. He's responsible for what happened, not you.'

'But two people died . . .' Callie began.

'An accident. A tragic accident and not your fault,' Sephy insisted.

'Mum, did you know what Nana Jasmine was going to do when she left us in her house on my birthday?' asked Callie.

'Of course not. I would've stopped her,' Sephy said.

Callie was too busy looking at her mum to notice the look in Meggie's eyes at that question. With a start, I realized that even if Sephy hadn't known what Jasmine was up to, Meggie did. Meggie glanced at me. In that instant I knew the truth. And Meggie knew I knew. But I would never, ever tell Callie – and that was a fact.

'Mum, do you hate me?' Callie whispered.

'Oh, sweetheart, of course I don't hate you.' Sephy swept Callie into her arms. 'I told you before, there's nothing on this earth or beyond that could make me hate you.'

Callie and her mum hugged each other for a long time. When at last Callie let go, she turned to Meggie.

'Nana Meggie, I'm so sorry,' she said. 'I never meant for Uncle Jude or Nana Jasmine to get hurt. I was so lost and confused, I didn't know what I was doing.'

'I understand, dear,' said Meggie. 'All I want in this world is for you to stop blaming yourself.'

'Easier said than done,' Callie told her.

'But you've got to try,' said Meggie. 'Jude is dead, Callie. Don't let him ruin the rest of your life. You have to do what I did and let him go.'

Meggie looked down at the bed, but her gaze was somewhere in the past. An unhappy past. A couple of blinks later and she was back in the present, but her eyes still held a profound sorrow I was only just beginning to understand. Sephy stroked her daughter's hair. Meggie forced a smile. And though Callie tried to smile, it wobbled precariously on her face.

She turned to me, and the look in her eyes made my throat tighten so much I could hardly breathe. 'Tobey, you're going to be late for your dinner date,' she said quietly.

'I don't mind staying.'

'It's OK. I'm OK – or I will be. You should go.'

I knew a dismissal when I heard one. But even so, I couldn't help asking, 'Are you sure?'

Callie nodded. 'I'll see you . . . when I see you.'

And she turned away from me. Deliberately. Sephy watched me, a satisfied expression on her face.

I left Callie's room. Sephy followed me. Closing the door behind her, she walked a few paces along the corridor so that there was no chance of us being seen through Callie's window.

'As you can see, my daughter is now awake,' she said. 'So you needn't feel you have to visit her any more. I found out from one of the nurses that you've been here almost every day, in spite of what I told you.'

'How could I stay away? Callie is my best friend—'

'Oh, please,' Sephy scoffed.

'She is. I'd do anything for her.'

The look Sephy gave me was withering.

'It's true,' I insisted.

'Tobey, how stupid d'you think I am? D'you really think I'm going to stand idly by and watch you hurt my daughter?'

'I'd never do that—'

'But you did, Tobey. And you're still doing it. Don't forget, I saw you and your new girlfriend.'

'And you told Callie?'

Sephy's eyes narrowed. 'I didn't tell my daughter a damn thing. You did enough boasting about your new girlfriend on your own.'

'Rebecca isn't my girlfriend.'

'Tell that to her tongue and her tonsils,' Sephy replied with sarcasm. 'What is it with you? Off with the old and on with the new? Then keep the old as backup? Well, not where my daughter is concerned.'

'If you'd just let me explain . . .'

'Go on then.' Sephy folded her arms as she waited.

But I had nothing – at least nothing that was safe to share. No explanations. No excuses. No reasons. Nothing.

'That's what I thought.' Sephy's voice dripped with contempt. 'Tobey, you obviously don't feel the same way about my daughter as she does about you. So do us all a favour and leave her alone.'

'That's not true,' I said. 'I . . . I do care about Callie.'

'Oh, spare me your lukewarm protestations.' Sephy raised both hands, her palms towards me as if she was warding me off. 'You know what, Tobey? I'm not getting into a debate with you. Callie doesn't need your guilt-inspired visits. I believe my daughter just made her feelings clear on that subject. I know I have.'

I closed my eyes briefly. The faster I ran towards Callie, the further away I got. Maybe I should just stop running.

'Miss Hadley, why are you doing this?'

'Because actions speak louder than words. When my daughter needed your help, when she needed you to tell the police what really happened, you turned your back on her. You let those responsible for harming her get away with it.'

Tell her,Tobey.Tell Sephy the truth . . .

'You walked away, Tobey. So keep walking. That's about all you're good for. Meggie and I have come to take Callie home. From this moment on, you leave her alone.'

And with one last look of pure disdain, Sephy headed back to her daughter.

Sixty-five

Even though the sky was cloudy and rain threatened, I made my way back to the Wasteland. I had nowhere else to go. I glanced up at the darkening grey clouds. They filled the sky to overflowing. I sat on a park bench and watched the world pass me by. I was so close to getting everything I'd tried to achieve, and I'd never felt so far away from everything I believed in. It wasn't supposed to work that way.

I sat still for I don't know how long. Only the first fat splash of rain on my forehead roused me. I glanced at my watch. It was time to meet Rebecca. It was also time to draw a line under our relationship, such as it was. Maybe we could still at least be friends, though no doubt her brothers and her mum would do their best to make sure that didn't happen. But even if we couldn't stay friends, was it too much to hope we could part that way?

On my way to Los Amigos, the phone McAuley had given me started to vibrate in my pocket. Godsake! Much as I wanted to throw the mobile into the nearest bin, I couldn't. Instead, against my better judgment, I answered it.

'Hello, Mr McAuley.'

'Tobey, I'm deeply disappointed in you.'

Hello to you too. Had he finally figured out that I'd had a hand in the disappearance of his shipments?

'I don't know what you mean, sir,' I said cautiously.

'Tobey, don't make things worse by treating me like a fool. You were supposed to get me some information,' said McAuley. 'Where is it?'

It took me a second to catch up. He was talking about the bent cop on the Dowds' payroll. I was still safe. For now.

'I haven't been able to find out. I don't work at TFTM any more. Gideon got rid of me.'

'I'm not interested in your excuses. I'm very disappointed, Tobey. Now if you want to get back into my good books, you'll bring Rebecca Dowd to my warehouse on the industrial estate at ten o'clock tonight without fail. I can use her to get my shipments back from her family. Is that clear?'

Silence.

'Did you hear me, Tobey?'

'I'm sorry, Mr McAuley, but I can't do that,' I replied.

'Tobey, when you're in a hole you don't keep digging,' McAuley said silkily. 'You'll do as I say or you'll force me to show you what I do to those who let me down.'

'I'm sorry, Mr McAuley, but Rebecca has nothing to do with this and I think you should leave it that way. So I'm not doing it.' I disconnected the call before McAuley could make his threats more specific. I must be mad. This had to be the very definition of painting yourself into a corner. I dropped McAuley's phone on the pavement and ground it under my heel, enjoying the satisfying crunch it made as the plastic shattered. No more phone calls. No more orders. He was finished and I wanted nothing more to do with him or any of them.

I knew what I had to do now. And I had to act fast.

Time had just about run out.

Sixty-six

At the coffee shop, Rebecca and I sat at a table by a window. Outside the rain was beginning to pelt down. Usually I loved the rain. It calmed me down. But not today. My brain felt hot-wired. My filter coffee sat untouched. Rebecca sipped at her skinny latte. She wore denim jeans, a red blouse and a denim jacket – and she looked the business. Her braids were tied back in a ponytail, but she seemed unaware or unconcerned about how pretty she looked. Conversation between us flowed like boulders travelling uphill. Neither of us had quite plucked up the courage to say why we were here. Rebecca took another sip of her coffee, then placed the tall glass down on the stained wooden table.

'Tobey, d'you like me? And please be honest,' she asked.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 566