Thirty-eight. Callum

There was something wrong with me. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I sat on my bed and stared into nothing and I couldn’t cry. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head – and nothing. I lay on my stomach, burying my face into my pillow, waiting for the tears to start. But they didn’t. My sister was dead and I couldn’t feel a thing. My head still buried in my pillow, I clenched my fists and stuck them under it so I wouldn’t do something silly like punch the wall or the headboard. My fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. I sat up and lifted up my pillow. There was an envelope with Callum written on it in my sister’s neat, tiny writing. Shock, hot and electric, shot through me. I picked it up. The letter dropped to the floor. I stared down at it, unable to believe my eyes.

‘Lynny?’ I whispered, confused.

I looked around, expecting to see her standing in my bedroom doorway, smiling at me, ‘Gotcha!’ all over her face. But the room was empty. What should I do? I bent down and picked up the letter between two trembling fingers. I was desperate to know what it said, but at the same time, I was terrified. Count to three and then do it. I got to two, then tore open the letter. My heart hammering, I began to read.

Dear Callum,

This is a very hard letter to write but I wanted you of all people to know the truth. By now, if I’m very lucky and God is very good, I won’t be around any more. I’m tired and I want out, it’s as simple as that. I’ve tried to think of the best way to do this and I think walking in front of a bus or a tram or a train is the easiest. A car is too hit and miss! See! My sense of humour has come back, along with my sanity. The return of my sanity, I can stand. It’s the return to reality that I can’t cope with.

I’ll try to make it look like an accident so that I don’t shame Mum and Dad but I wanted you to know the truth. I’m not ashamed of who I am any more, but I don’t want to live in a world where what I am isn’t good enough, where nothing I do will ever be good enough because I’m a nought and I always will be and nothing will ever change that. I hope you and Sephy have more luck than Jed and me – if that’s what you want. Take care of yourself. And whatever life throws at you, be strong. Be strong for both of us.

All my love,

Lynette Lynny . .

I stared down at the letter in my hand. The words blurred and swam before me. I didn’t have to read it a second or a third time. Once was more than enough. Crumpling the letter in my hand, I squeezed it smaller and smaller. I squeezed it like my heart was being squeezed. I sat perfectly still, for a minute, an hour, I don’t know how long. Long enough for the pain in my throat to subside. Long enough for my eyes to stop smarting. And only when I could trust myself not to hurt so much, only then did I move. I tore the letter into a hundred pieces and let them fall to the floor like paper rain.

For the first time in my life I hated my sister. Hated her. She’d given in. She’d given up on life and left me to live it for the both of us. All my love . . . Was that all love did for you? Made you give up and give in? Left you open to pain and hurt? If it was, I swore that nothing would ever make me do the same as her.

Nothing.

Thirty-nine. Sephy

Minnie and I sat together, her arm around my shoulder.

‘Minerva . .?’

‘Shush!’ Minnie whispered. ‘Mother will be all right. You’ll see. She’ll be fine.’

I looked up and down the carpeted corridor. The place looked more like a hotel than a hospital. Did they really know what they were doing? And where was Mother? They’d only let us in the ambulance because Minnie had insisted and kept her hand in Mother’s all the time. And the moment we arrived, Minnie and I had been ushered to a waiting area whilst Mother was put on a trolley and wheeled off somewhere else. The minutes ticked, ticked, ticked by – and still nothing. No word, no nurses, no doctors, nothing.

I looked down at my twisting hands in my lap.

Please, God . . . Please . . .

‘Minerva? Persephone? Ah, there you are,’ Juno Ayelette, Dad’s personal secretary, marched along the corridor towards us.

Minnie sprung to her feet. Following her lead, I did the same.

‘It’s a shame you two didn’t have your wits about you,’ Juno told us.

Puzzled, I looked from Juno to Minnie, who was just as baffled as I was.

‘You should’ve phoned me first rather than phoned for an ambulance on a landline. The story is already out that your mother took an overdose because your dad has found someone else.’ Juno frowned. ‘This is going to take some fancy footwork on my part.’

I shook my head, convinced that my mind was playing tricks. Surely I’d heard that wrong? I must’ve. No-one could be so thoughtless. So heartless.

‘Mother tried to commit suicide . . .’ Minnie whispered.

‘Of course she didn’t,’ Juno scoffed, taking out her mobile phone. ‘Anyone who tries to commit suicide takes a lot more than four sleeping tablets. She was just trying to get attention and sympathy.’ She pressed a series of numbers on her phone.

I turned to my sister. ‘Minnie, what . .?’

‘Hi, Sanchez?’ Juno’s voice cut across my own. ‘Listen. We need to call in a few favours. I’m at the hospital and . . . yes, of course she’s fine . . . it’s nothing at all, I promise you, but we need to spread the word that it was an accident, nothing more . . . Yes . . . Yes . . .’

Minnie snatched the phone out of Juno’s hand and threw it to the ground before grinding it under the heel of her boot. I stared at my sister, my heart racing, my eyes alight with new found admiration.

‘How dare you . .?’ Juno began.

‘You can go to hell,’ Minnie screamed at her.

‘You’re a spoilt brat, Minerva Hadley.’

‘And you’re an insensitive cow!’ And with that my sister marched off towards the casualty department.

I smirked at Juno before I ran to catch up with my sister. She glanced my way, her expression grim.

‘Electric, Minerva. Just electric!’ I told her.

And whilst she didn’t smile, the grim expression on her face softened.

Slightly.

Forty. Callum

It was the day of Lynette’s funeral – a week after her ‘accident’. A week of no school, no tears, no nothing. I’d gone for a late morning walk down to the beach. Alone. I stood on the sand, wearing my one and only formal blue suit and watched the waves lap back and forth, wondering why they did that. What was the point – if there was one? Did anything in this world have a point or was Lynette right? At last I walked home. Alone.

Only to find our house filled to overflowing with people. Friends, family, neighbours, strangers. I hadn’t expected all these people. I couldn’t cope with them. A quiet funeral, Dad had said. It looked like we had every nought in Meadowview struggling to get into our living room. I stood in a corner and watched for a while. Friends and strangers alike fought to be the first to say how sorry they were and spout on about ‘tragic accidents’ and ‘wasted lives’. So many people had come to pay their last respects that our front and back yards were both full – never mind the house. The level of noise from all the chatter was incessant. I reckoned it wouldn’t be long before I’d have to escape somewhere for some peace and quiet or I’d explode. Jude was with some of his friends, the now permanently sombre expression on his face. He wasn’t saying much, but he was drinking. Lager, I think it was. And from the way he was swaying on his feet, it obviously wasn’t his first. Well, if he wanted to be stupid, then I for one wasn’t going to stop him. Let him make a fool of himself, for all I cared. The whole world could go to hell for all I cared.

What would Lynny have made of all this fuss? She’d probably have been as bewildered by it as I was. And what would Mum and Dad and Jude say if they found out that Lynny’s ‘accident’ was anything but? Stupid question. I knew what they’d say, how they’d feel. So they would never know. I’d burnt the torn-up bits of Lynny’s letter. No-one but me knew what had really happened. And I vowed that it would stay that way. I owed Mum and Dad that much. Especially Mum.

The noise around me was relentless. I rubbed my already throbbing temples. Had Mum and Dad really invited all these people? Where was Dad anyway? I hadn’t seen him for a while. Nor Mum for that matter. I moved around the room as best I could, shaking hands and nodding my thanks at all the ‘I’m so sorry’s bombarding me from every direction. Just when I thought I’d have to duck out of there or burst, I finally saw Dad. He was huddled in a corner with two other men. One had untidy, wavy-blond hair tied back in a pony-tail and he wore a trim moustache. The other had dark chestnut-brown hair and the kind of tan that must’ve been paid for. He looked almost mixed race – lucky beggar. How I wished I could afford the treatment to make my skin permanently darker.

I started to walk towards them but the intense, solemn look on all their faces halted my steps. I watched, concentrating hard on trying to read their lips. Even though I’d never done it before, it was as if I’d somehow convinced myself that all I had to do was focus, to be the best lip-reader in the world. Well, the best nought lip-reader at any rate.

Dad wasn’t saying much. He nodded, then nodded again. A word here, a nod there, that’s all he did. It seemed to be enough for the two men though because as the conversation went on they began to smile and pat Dad on the back. Then one of them pressed something into Dad’s hand. Dad didn’t look at it, but immediately stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mum enter the room. She looked around for Dad. She saw him and immediately starting making her way through the crowd in Dad’s direction. Then she stopped. She’d noticed who Dad was with. Fury flashed across her face. She pushed towards them even more vigorously then. I was so busy watching Mum watching Dad that I wasn’t aware of the silence sweeping through the room until it had reached and passed me. Looking around, I saw that every eye was on something going on behind me. No-one spoke. No-one moved. I turned, wondering what could’ve happened to cause such a reaction.

Seeing her was like a boxer’s punch to my stomach. I was actually winded and breathless.

Sephy . . .

What was she doing here? Was she mad? Stillness rippled out from her, like the ripples when a stone is thrown into a pond. Sephy walked towards me, looking straight at me, but she didn’t say a word. Then her gaze swept past me, her face set as she walked on by. I turned as did everyone else to see what she was going to do. She walked up to my mum who was only a couple of steps away from my dad by now.

‘Mr and Mrs McGregor, I just wanted to come and see you to say how sorry I am about Lynette. I know what you’re going through. My mother . . . I know . . .’ Sephy’s voice trailed off. She would’ve had to have the hide of a rhino not to pick up on the atmosphere in the room. ‘I hope I’m not intruding or anything . . . I just wanted to say . . . I’m sorry . . .’

Mum was the first to recover. ‘You’re not intruding, Miss Hadley.’ She stepped forward. ‘Thank you for coming. Can I get you a drink?’

Sephy looked around at all the people staring at her, most of the faces now suspicious and hostile. ‘No, I don’t think I should stay.’

‘Nonsense. You’ve come this far, you can’t leave without a drink. Can she, Ryan?’ Mum spoke directly to Dad.

Dad was alone in the corner of the room. The two men he’d been talking to had vanished – seemingly into thin air. But it didn’t matter. Sephy had all of Dad’s attention. He was glaring at her like she was some kind of disgusting fungus he’d found growing in his navel. It was exactly like the look Mrs Hadley shot at me when I went to see Sephy after she’d been beaten up. Exactly like it.

‘Ryan?’ Mum’s stern voice had Dad raising his head to look at her.

‘Hello, Miss Hadley,’ Dad managed to spit out.

‘I’ll go.’

‘Sephy . . .’ I stepped forward but Jude got in first.

‘Yes, go!’ he said furiously. ‘Who told you to come here in the first place? You and your false sympathy aren’t wanted.’

‘Jude, that’s enough,’ Mum told him firmly.

‘If she cares so much, where was she for the last three years when Lynette was out of her head and we didn’t have two beans to rub together, never mind the money to get Lynny the help she needed? Where was this dagger when you got fired, Mum, and I had to drop out of school? Where was she when Harry over there got the boot?’ Jude pointed to a man by the door. ‘And all because she wanted to behave like a brat even though she knew it would get him into trouble.’

Sephy was staring at this guy, Harry, who was glaring right back at her. I’d never seen him before in my life. What did he have to do with Sephy?

‘Our new chauffeur told me you’d decided to quit.’ Sephy’s voice was little more than a whisper but in the stillness of the room it was enough for everyone to hear.

‘I got fired because you were left alone to face the riot at your school,’ Harry called bitterly across the room. ‘I begged you to stay in the car but you didn’t want to – remember? When your face was plastered all over the TV screen and I was nowhere to be seen, your mother kicked me out so fast I’ll have the imprint of her foot on my backside ’til the day I die.’

Whispered comments full of anger and antagonism swept around the room.

Sephy shook her head, shocked. ‘I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.’

‘Didn’t take the trouble to find out either.’ Harry turned away in disgust.

‘You and others like you have brought us nothing but grief.’ Jude pushed Sephy hard against her shoulder. Some of the others in the room gasped at his audacity. Shoving a Cross like that was just asking for trouble, but Jude was way past caring. ‘And then you have the nerve to come over here . . .’

‘Mrs McGregor, Mr McGregor . . .’ Sephy appealed to them for help.

‘Persephone, I think it’s best you should leave,’ Dad told her directly.

‘But I haven’t done anything . . .’ said Sephy, bewildered.

‘That’s right, you haven’t,’ Dad agreed, pointedly. ‘You come here in your fancy dress which cost more than I make in a year and we’re supposed to smile and cheer? Is that how it’s meant to work?’

‘No . . .’ Sephy whispered.

‘Just go away,’ Jude hissed at her. ‘Go on, get lost before I do something I’ll regret.’

Sephy looked around. Her eyes met mine. I tried to step forward but some woman behind me grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

‘Let her go. Noughts and Crosses don’t mix, boy,’ the woman whispered to me.

Sephy shook her head and darted from the room. I could see only too well the shimmer in her eyes as she ran past me. Even though the room was full to capacity, a pathway opened up for her like Angel Shaka’s parting of the Sea.

‘You had no right to do that, Jude.’ Mum waited until Sephy had gone before rounding on my brother.

‘Oh yes he did,’ Dad answered before Jude could open his mouth. ‘She wasn’t wanted here. Jude only told her the truth.’

Mum wasn’t the only one to stare at Dad. Where had all that come from? I’d thought Dad’s motto was to live and let live. When had that changed? When Lynny died . .? Or maybe it was there all the time and I’d just chosen not to see it.

‘Ryan . .?’ Mum said.

Around us, people started talking again – nervous, embarrassed chatter. I reached Mum’s side at the same time as Dad.

He stopped and looked straight at Mum, a cold, hard expression on his face I’d never seen before. ‘Meggie,’ he said. ‘My ineffectual days are over.’

Then he moved past her. Mum turned to stare after him. I watched Dad’s retreating back. There was something about him, the way he walked, the way he talked . . . Something in his voice scared me. Scared the living daylights out of me.

Forty-one. Sephy

It’d only been three years since Callum’s mum had worked for mine. Three short years. Three years had passed like three minutes to me, but walking into Callum’s house had been like walking into a room full of strangers. I remembered Callum’s mum and dad so clearly but my memory of them was nothing like the reality. They hadn’t wanted me there. Not one of them had. With everything that’d happened to my mother, I wanted to show them that I really did care, that I understood. Minnie and I could’ve so easily been in the same boat as Callum, no matter what Juno said.

Each move I made in Callum’s direction just seemed to pave my way faster to hell.

Forty-two. Callum

I went and sat down beside Sephy on the beach. Neither of us spoke. I was getting sand on my one good suit but I didn’t care. I was past caring.

‘I didn’t mean any harm, Callum,’ Sephy said at last.

‘I know but . . .’

‘But it wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had in my life,’ Sephy sighed.

‘Not as such – no,’ I said.

‘I can’t seem to do anything right at the moment,’ Sephy said at last. There wasn’t a trace of self-pity in her voice, just the merest hint of sadness. ‘I am sorry about your sister, Callum. I just wanted to show how much. I thought sending a card would be a bit . . . a bit . . .’

‘Impersonal?’

‘Exactly,’ Sephy sighed again. ‘It was just a spur of the moment thing to walk over to your house. I thought it’d make a difference somehow.’

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

‘This is growing up, isn’t it?’ Sephy asked.

‘I think it is,’ I nodded.

‘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 denied 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!

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 799