Checkmate (31 page)

Should I say something? I should do something. But what? It's not really any of my business. Except that if I don't say something, the situation between Callie Rose and Sephy will go from bad to worse. But I'm loath to intrude. Sephy already hates me for what I did to her when Callie Rose was born. If she knew I'd been seeing Jude or worse still, that I knew Callie had been seeing Jude . . . So I can't interfere. Because Callie Rose might end up hating me too. I couldn't bear that.

But I have to do something.

Please God, don't let all this be because of Jude.

What's happening with Callie Rose? It's like she's stumbled over a cliff and is hanging on for dear life. But I can't do anything. I'm not even sure if her mum can. We can only help Callie if she wants to be rescued. But the closer we get, the more she screams at us to leave her alone. What would've happened if I'd told Callie the truth about her dad years ago? Where would we all be now? One thing's for sure, we couldn't've been any worse off than we are now. This life is dissolving all our hopes and dreams – every one. If something doesn't happen to fix this, and soon, we'll never make it, any of us.

God, if you're listening . . .

Callum, if you're listening . . .

I don't want to find out Jude is behind all this. But every time I think about him, I get a icy, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. And if his hand is in this somewhere – what then? He's my son. My only remaining son. Not matter what he does, I can't turn my back on him. He's my own flesh and blood.

But so is Callie Rose.

If Jude has anything at all to do with this, it will force me to make a choice
–
my son or my granddaughter.

A choice sent from hell.

It's been over three hours. Something must've gone wrong. The police were supposed to be taping the conversation between Nathan and Jordy, but suppose something went wrong? Suppose Jordy decided to shoot Nathan or stab him or hit him over the head? The police would never get up to Jordy's penthouse on time. Nathan had to know that. So why had he agreed to this foolhardy scheme?

Because it was him or Jordy. There was no middle ground.

But the waiting was driving me crazy. If anything should happen . . . Moving in slow motion, I decided to turn off the lights and head over to the police station. Oh God! Something must've gone wrong. There came a knock at the restaurant door. I spun round. Nathan stood outside grinning at me through the glass. The front door was open and I was in his arms less than a couple of seconds later.

'You!' I almost screamed at him. 'I've been worried sick. What happened? Are you hurt? Are you all right?'

'Don't cry, Sephy. I'm fine,' said Nathan.

'I'm not crying,' I sobbed. 'I'm . . . I'm—'

Nathan held me tight. And just like that I didn't need an explanation or the details. They could wait. As long as Nathan was safe that was enough.

'I hate you! You make me sick!'

'Callie Rose, don't talk to me like that,' Mum shot back.

'I can talk to you any way I want to and you can't stop me. You make me sick!'

'You know what? The feeling is mutual.'

I glared at her. I'd said it first, but that still gave her no right to say it back to me. No right at all. It hurt. And I hated her even more for that.

'I wish you'd go away. I wish you'd disappear. I wish you'd
die!'
I screamed.

'Do you?'

'Yeah, and then you'd go to hell.'

'I'm already there.'

'I mean
real
hell. Then you and my murdering bastard dad could be together.'

'That's what I'm counting on,' Mum told me.

And those words were all it took to steal the breath from my body, like all the air inside me had escaped in a mad rush and all at once.

'I don't know why you even had me.' I'd finished shouting now. I turned away from Mum so she wouldn't see me swallow my tears. No more crying for me.

No one would ever make me cry again.

'Callie, I'm not going into all this again. I'm tired. I'm going to bed,' Mum sighed from behind me. I forced myself not to turn round as I listened to her footsteps retreat behind me. Mum wasn't the only one who was tired. I wanted to stop burning up inside and lashing out but I didn't know how. I wanted to stop being so furiously angry all the time. Something inside me was shrinking, drawing in on itself, the part of me that had seen good in everything and everyone around me. All the trust I'd had in other people was withering and dying and there was nothing I could do about it. I had a constant feeling of wanting to take things and break things so that everything around me looked the way I felt on the inside.
Uncle Jude says I should hold onto that feeling. He says it's a feeling the Liberation Militia can use.

But it scares me.

My body felt twice as heavy and twice as old as I trudged up the stairs. Why was it so impossible for all the wheels of my life to move in sync? Nathan and I had become really close after what'd happened with Jordy. Nathan had taped Jordy Carson boasting about what he'd done to Nathan in the past and what he was going to personally do to him in the future. I'd been right about Jordy getting his men to search Nathan. They'd had Nathan strip down to his underpants to make sure he wasn't wearing a wire, but they hadn't bothered to tell him to take off his cap, nor had they searched it – thank goodness. Nathan managed to get Jordy to admit to a number of his despicable activities; in fact Jordy had positively revelled in them. After all, as Jordy had put it, 'it wasn't as if Nathan was going to leave the penthouse in a fit state to tell anyone'. The police had waited till they had enough to hang Jordy before charging in to arrest him. And from what Nathan said, they'd only just got there in time. Jordy had a gun in his hand and the barrel was pointing straight at Nathan's head when the police smashed their way in.

After that night, Nathan and I started seeing each other, though I insisted on taking it real slow. I didn't want to ruin this the way I had with Sonny. But the relationship between myself and Nathan was getting ever closer. He was my island in shark-infested waters.

Because my relationship with my daughter was falling apart.

We couldn't say a word to each other now unless it drew blood. I was desperate to sit her down and talk to her, just talk, but she wouldn't let me. I entered a room, she left it within minutes. All my lies, all my bad decisions had kicked their way into the light at the same time. Callie looked at me and I could see exactly what she was thinking. She didn't know who I was. She thought I didn't know her. And our last exchange had ripped chunks out of my heart. I had to keep blinking my now smarting eyes and my chin was so low it was against my chest, so I didn't see Meggie at the top of the stairs until I was three-quarters of the way up. I looked straight at her. She'd obviously been listening to every razor-sharp barb Callie Rose had tossed at me.

'Happy now?' I asked quietly. 'You and your son have both got exactly what you've always wanted. Congratulations.'

'Callum wouldn't've wanted—'

'I'm not talking about Callum,' I interrupted. 'I'm talking about Jude.'

Meggie lowered her gaze. 'Sephy, I didn't—'

I waved away her useless words. 'Spare me your insincere protestations please. My daughter was seeing Jude and you knew and you never told me. You know what he's like, how much he hates me – and you never told me. I bet you're loving every minute of this. My mum has cancer and my daughter hates my guts. Your cup is full, Meggie.'

I had to get past her before I broke down completely. There was a time when I thought I'd used up a lifetime's supply of tears. I had actually believed that nothing could make me cry again. But I'd done more crying about Callie in the last two months than in the ten years before that.

I was losing my daughter and I didn't know what to do to make things right between us.

I was losing my daughter.

I had lost my daughter.

I eyed myself critically in the mirror one last time. I didn't look too bad, even if I did say so myself. My mascara made my already long lashes seem twice as long, and I'd plucked my eyebrows without giving myself that permanently surprised look I'd managed the last time I tried plucking them. The lipstick was working too. The red colour suited the colour of my skin. I'd washed my hair myself and let it dry naturally. It was wavy rather than curly, and thick, falling well past my shoulders. It'd never be Cross hair but it was
my
hair. And if Ella or Bliss or anyone else for that matter had anything to say about it, I was ready for them. I wore a black T-shirt with
'READY?'
written on it in silver glittery writing and torn jeans. This was the third outfit combination I'd tried and the one I'd finally settled on. It looked partyish without trying too hard. Snatching up my denim jacket, I headed downstairs on tiptoe. I'd reached the bottom stair when Mum came out of the living room. So much for trying to sneak out then.

'Where're you going, Callie Rose?'

'Out.'

'Out where?'

'Bliss is having a party and I was invited,' I told Mum.

'I see. Why didn't you tell me about it before?'

'I didn't think you'd be interested in what your halfer daughter was doing,' I snapped.

Mum looked like I'd hit her again. Score one for me. When at last she did speak, she said quietly, 'I'll drive you there.'

She reached for her car keys off the telephone table.

'No, thanks. It's not raining. I'll take the bus and walk.'

'I don't mind driving you,' said Mum.

'But I don't want to be around you,' I told her. 'See you later.'

'What time will you be back?'

'When I feel like it.'

'Not in this house, you won't. You'll come back when
I say,' said Mum. 'I want you back home by half ten at the latest.'

'Whatever you say, Mother,' I said. I hoped my tone told her that I had no intention of leaving Bliss's party so early. For goodness' sake, it was only eight o'clock now.

Mum sighed. 'When're you going to stop punishing me, Callie Rose?'

'I'll see you later, Mum.'

I didn't have to stay and listen to this. I had better things
to do. I headed out into the darkening night.

Bliss had invited me to one of her parties once before, under duress admittedly, but it was still an invitation. And I'd had every intention of going. But Bliss's birthday do had been only a day or two after my disastrous trip to see Grandad Kamal. That visit had left me too bruised to even think about partying. For days afterwards, all I wanted was to be left alone. I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to be with anyone. I remember I spent that entire weekend in my bedroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I analysed every part of my face, my hair, my body, desperately trying to find the reason why Grandad had slammed the door on me.

But that was then.

This time I'd actually made it to Bliss's party and I was determined to enjoy myself. Bliss wasn't my favourite person, but she sure lived in a fabulous house. At my junior school, I'd been invited to loads of parties and most of my friends there lived in houses that were nothing to sing and dance about, just like mine. But then, my junior school wasn't a private, fee-paying school. Not everyone at
Heathcroft was wealthy, but there was no getting around the fact that an awful lot were.

Bliss's huge living room had been cleared of all furniture except for the music centre with surround speakers. Apparently she had one of those systems where you could load up a whole bunch of CDs, copy the track or tracks you wanted to hear and you could then set up any number of play lists to suit your mood.

'I set up a party playlist this morning,' Bliss announced to anyone who'd listen. 'And it's eight hours long! That should keep us going!'

She'd switched on the surround and ceiling speakers in the living room and the ceiling speakers in the kitchen and the music rang out like we were all in some kind of club or something. The wall lights shone with dim blue light bulbs. They were bright enough to see the person you were chatting to, but not bright enough to spoil the party mood. It was a lovely place, not as imposing as my Nana Jasmine's but still impressive. The music was great, the food was good and most of our school year seemed to be present. A few brave souls were already dancing.

I was in the kitchen, helping myself to a few crisps and snacks from the army of bowls set out when the back of my neck started to tingle.

'Hello, Callie.'

I turned my head. 'Hello, Tobey.'

No wonder the hairs on my nape were standing up. It had to be some kind of allergic reaction to Tobey.

'You OK?' asked Tobey.

'Fine. Just fine. Excuse me.' I walked off, with one hand full of salt and vinegar crisps. I was halfway to the living room when I realized that Tobey was only a step behind me. I turned to frown at him. The last thing I needed or wanted was Tobey following me.

'D'you want to dance?' Tobey asked as we entered the living room.

I shook my head and pointed to my full hand. And if my hand wasn't full I would've used some other excuse, like an in-growing hangnail or a bad hair hour to avoid him. Like I'd ever dance with him again.

'Callie, if our positions were reversed and you were the one who said all that stuff to me, I would've forgiven you,' said Tobey. 'I would've forgiven you long ago.'

'Which is easy for you to say because our positions aren't reversed, are they?' I pointed out, walking further into the room. 'And I'm not the one looking down on you and thinking you're the scum of the earth just because of your dad.'

'That's not true. Look, can we talk in private please? I've got something to tell you. It's important,' said Tobey, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

'Not now, Tobey,' I said. And if he couldn't hear the words, my expression must've made my answer clear enough. Tobey looked like he was about to insist, but he was interrupted.

'Hi, Callie Rose. I was hoping you'd be here.' Amyas appeared from nowhere to stand beside me. He had to practically shout to make himself heard over the noise of the music and laughing and talking and dancing.

'It's Callie,' I shouted back.

'What?'

'Just Callie. Not Callie Rose. Not any more.'

'Oh, OK,' smiled Amyas.

I turned to see Tobey walking out of the room and back to the kitchen. I felt something strange in my stomach – if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was a guilty pang. But what did I have to feel guilty about? Nothing, that's what.

'Enjoying yourself?' asked Amyas.

I shrugged. 'Yeah. I like this song that's playing. He's a good singer.'

'I agree. D'you . . . would you like to go out some time?'

'What? On a date?' I asked.

Amyas nodded. I was stunned. I used to drool over him and he'd scarcely given me the time of day. So that crush had rushed in and eventually ebbed out. But now Amyas wanted to go out with
me.
I should've been thrilled. Why wasn't I thrilled? I could barely make it to pleased.

'Yeah, OK,' I said. Luckily for me, it was still noisy around us or Amyas might've been hurt by my lack of enthusiasm. As it was he grinned at me with relief.

'That's great. Want a drink?'

'Yeah, OK. I'll have a lemonade please.'

'Is that all?'

'Yes, please. I'm pacing myself,' I lied. I was allowed half a glass of champagne at Crossmas, that was it. I didn't want any alcohol. I wasn't sure I could handle it and I didn't want to make a fool of myself.

'I'll be right back,' Amyas told me. He had to practically press his lips to my ear so that I could hear him. His warm breath tickled. 'By the way, you smell nice.'

I blushed. 'Thanks. I used some of my mum's perfume.'

'It suits you.' Amyas smiled.

He went off to the kitchen to get my drink.

'Hello, you!'

'Hi, Lucas,' I smiled. 'You OK?'

'I'm fine. You here with anyone?'

I considered. 'Amyas is getting me a drink,' I told him.

'Looooo-cassssss!' Bliss was at Lucas's side before he could say another word. He gave me a rueful smile as Bliss put her arm through his, almost spilling his drink. The pitiful girl was still trying, even though it was obvious to everyone in our year that Lucas wasn't interested. Besides, no one in his year would ever go out with anyone younger than them. Everyone knew that.

'See you later, Callie,' said Lucas as Bliss practically dragged him away from me.

Poor Lucas! I almost felt sorry for him. Amyas came back with my drink.

'Can I talk to you?' he asked.

'What's the matter?'

'Can we talk somewhere private?' Amyas shouted in my ear. 'Follow me.'

Why was everyone so keen on private conversations all of a sudden? Amyas led the way upstairs. He opened the first door he came to. It was a bedroom, the bed strewn with jackets and coats. Amyas closed the door behind him. Immediately the music became a throbbing hum from beneath us. I looked around. This was obviously supposed to be one of the lesser bedrooms but it was as big as Nana Meggie's at home.

Amyas pushed the coats back and sat down on the edge of the bed. He patted the space next to him. I sat down, wondering what was so urgent that he had to drag me away from the party. I looked at him, waiting for him to tell me.

'Callie,' Amyas smiled. 'I just wanted to say . . . well, I like you very much.'

'I like you too, Amyas.' I frowned. This wasn't going where I thought it was going, was it?

'You're one of the few girls in our year that I can have a decent conversation with,' said Amyas.

When was the last time we'd had a decent conversation? When was the first time? Amyas and I didn't exactly hang around together.

'I really like you.'

He'd already said that.

'I'm glad,' I said, edging away from him.

But not fast enough. The next thing I knew, he pounced and was pressing his lips against mine
–
hard. I certainly wouldn't call it kissing.

'Amyas, get off,' I managed to gasp out as I turned my head.

'Oh, come on. You like me, I know you do. Sammi told me. And I like you. We can just have a bit of fun before we go back downstairs.'

'No. Besides, if my mum knew what I was doing, she'd skin me alive,' I said, pushing at Amyas's forehead.

But it was like trying to move a planet.

'Just one kiss,' said Amyas, before his lips were back on mine.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I was being smothered. Amyas had his arms locked round me and his mouth open as he did his anaconda impersonation and tried to swallow me whole. I pushed against his shoulders but he wouldn't move. If anything, he started kissing me harder. I bit down on the inside of my bottom lip to stop him sticking his rotten tongue in my mouth. I was unbearably hot and my T-shirt and the coats under us were twisting around me like sheets on an unmade bed and my heart sounded like thunderclaps inside my body. Enough was enough. I balled up my fist and punched Amyas as hard as I could on the side of his head. He fell off me and off the bed and landed with a terrific thump on the floor. Immediately, there came a bang at the door. 'Enjoying yourselves in there!!'

'Just what the hell do you think you're doing?' I asked, jumping up and trying to straighten my clothing.

'I was just trying to kiss you,' Amyas wheedled. 'I like you.'

I went to the door and opened it – wide. 'Just so you don't get any more funny ideas,' I frowned.

'It was only kissing, Callie. Haven't you kissed a boy before?'

I wasn't about to admit that I hadn't.

'I like you too, but there's kissing – and then there's being pawed!' I said. 'Have some bloody class.'

Amyas sat down on the bed. I sat down on the chair. And we regarded each other for silent moments. Outside, others were wandering back and forth, trying to find a free bedroom for snogging sessions, I guess.

'Audra let me kiss her – and more. And she didn't complain once,' Amyas told me.

It'd taken him nearly half a minute to try and win me round and that was the best he could come up with?

'I'm not Audra,' I told him.

'No, you're not,' Amyas said, his eyes narrowing.

'D'you want me to go?' I asked, standing up again.

'No.' Amyas leaped up. 'I want you to want to be with me.'

'I do, but not if you're going to behave like an arse just because I won't let you grope me.'

'But why not?' Amyas couldn't sound any more puzzled. He really believed that not only should I let him feel me up, but I should beg him to do it beforehand and thank him for it during and afterwards.

'I don't want to, Amyas. And if you push it, I really will go back downstairs.'

'Go then. Who wants you?'

'Amyas, don't be like that. I'm just not ready.' I didn't want us to fight. I'd had enough of that recently to last me a lifetime. 'Besides, if my mum found out—'

'If you don't want to be with me, just say,' said Amyas. 'But stop using your mum as an excuse.'

'I'm not. But my mum—' I didn't get any further before Amyas interrupted.