Checkmate (44 page)

Mum left me. She's really left. She's more or less given Mad-Bitch Hadley her blessing.

Mum . . .

Well, I don't need her. I don't need anyone. Jude's number one law will get me through this:
Never, ever allow yourself to feel. Feelings kill.
I came into this world alone, travelled through it alone and that's the way I'll go out. But not today. I'm not ready to go yet. I still have things to do.

Get to your knife, Jude. It's now or never.

I was just reaching down for it, under cover of scratching my leg again, when the sound of the fire alarm made me jump. Damn! I'd been so close. And now the hotel was on fire
–
with a little luck. 'Cause that meant the fire brigade would be here soon, and they'd go from room to room . . . We sat in silence as the alarm warbled on and on, its high-pitched whine continuous and piercing. Doors further down the corridor opened and slammed. There were shouts and cries and the sound of footsteps running. But soon those noises died away. And throughout the whole thing, Jasmine sat perfectly still and never moved.

'We have to get out of here,' I told the mad bitch. 'Unless you fancy burning to death.'

Jasmine sighed and stood up. 'There's no fire, Jude. Your mum set off the fire alarm to get everyone out of the hotel.'

I stared at her. My mum had done that?

'We arranged it all last night and this morning,' Jasmine told me. 'We agreed that if she left this room by herself, if she said yes to what I planned to do, she'd set off the fire alarm to evacuate the hotel. I'm not a murderer. I don't intend to kill anyone but you.'

'Isn't this murder?'

'No, it's putting you out of my family's misery.'

'No, wait. Stop. You mean, Mum could've saved me?' I asked.

'If she'd stayed.' Jasmine nodded. 'All she had to do was say no. There's no way I would set this thing off with Meggie in the room. She knew that. Besides, how would my daughter and granddaughter get out of my cellar if she stayed?'

'I don't understand.'

Jasmine smiled. 'You don't have to. Any last words, Jude?'

Any last words? Did she think this was the end of some war movie? Last words? How about
– I'll see you in hell?
They were fine, final words.

Jasmine didn't take her eyes off me as she said, 'May God forgive me but this is for my daughter, Sephy, and your brother, Callum, and their child, Callie Rose.'

Jasmine took a step towards me. That's when I knew my last moments on this sorry earth had come. Jude's law number fifteen sang in my head:
If Heaven is full of Crosses, I'd rather live in Hell.
And there was one person in my head. Only one. Not Mum or Dad. Not Lynette. Not even Callum. The very last person I expected.

Cara . . .

I started to laugh. Louder and deeper than I'd ever laughed before.

CARA . . .

I raised my eyes to heaven. Cara, I know you're watching. Come and take my hand and lead me down to—

God, forgive me. Please God, forgive me.

I want to turn round and run back to the hotel. I want to . . . I want to run into that hotel room and scream STOP . . . I don't want this. He's my son. My one remaining child. Don't force me to give him up. I love him so much. Please don't take him from me.

I can't do this. I have to go back to the hotel.

But I can't.

After walking so far, so fast just to get away, I can't take another step. I'm standing on this pavement, frozen to the spot, unwilling to go forwards. Unable to go back.

Jude, forgive me . . .

No, I can't do this. I have to stop Jasmine – if it's not too late. Turn round, Meggie.

But what about my granddaughter? Callie Rose is the future. And how can she exist with Jude's hatred poisoning her every breath? I know he's told her things, shown her things that no one should ever see, never mind a child like Callie. He's been doing it for years.

I just couldn't see it, didn't want to see it.

Jude wants to fill up the whole world with the pain he feels. He could've let it go. He had that choice. I wish, oh how I wish I could turn back the hands of time. I'd hug Jude to me and stroke his hair the way I used to and I'd say the words I was never able to say except in my heart.

Jude, I love you. I'll never leave you. I'll always be here for you.

But how can that be true? I left him in that hotel room with Jasmine, knowing what she plans to do. Why am I being forced to choose between my son and my granddaughter? I can't make that decision, I just can't.

Turn to the past.

Turn to the future.

Which way?

Jude needs me. So does Callie Rose. It's not too late for Callie Rose. She's young. I can show her what I was never able to show my son. I thought I had to be tough because Jude was going to have it tough, a nought boy in a Cross world. I thought I was preparing him for what was ahead. But I know better now. So I'll tell Callie Rose I love her every day, every hour. I'll hug her and hold her and love her. She needs me. It's not too late to show Callie Rose that love is real, that love exists. And with love inside, nothing is impossible. I'll help Callie Rose and her mum come together again. I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.

Oh, Jude . . .

It's not too late for Callie Rose.

It is too late for my son. He breathes in bitterness and breathes out hatred. He has no faith in the future, so he has no stake in the future. He doesn't believe things will get better. He has no trust. He has no hope.

But he's still my son.

Walk forward, Meggie. One step at a time. But it's so hard, and it hurts so much.

'Are you all right, love?'

The words lift my head. I have to blink several times before I can see the face of the man who spoke. An elderly nought man selling newspapers looks at me with concern. His hair is more grey than brown, but his eyebrows are still dark.

'Are you OK? Is something wrong?' the man asks.

I open my mouth, but there are no words.

'Look, d'you want to sit down for a moment?'

I can hear sirens screaming around me. Two, then three police cars race past. And they're all going in the direction of the Isis Hotel.

'I wonder what that's about?' the nought vendor says softly as we both watch the police cars turn the corner.

Jasmine hasn't done it. Not yet. Surely not yet? Not so soon. An ambulance flashes by. Jasmine couldn't've done it yet. I hadn't heard anything. No flash, no blast, no boom. There's traffic all around me and a pneumatic drill sounds further up the road. I can hear car horns and people shouting, laughing, talking
–
but no explosion. I would've heard it, wouldn't I? Surely, I'm not so far away yet that I wouldn't've heard something? Something I know I tried to shut my ears and close my heart to, as I left the hotel. But thoughts and fears and sorrow and tears don't drown out the sound of something like that, do they? I look up at the sky. Where's the rain? I heard a single clap of thunder before, but there's no rain. Shouldn't there be rain? Maybe the noise scared Jasmine into changing her mind? Maybe Jude managed to stop her, to persuade her not to . . . ?

Jasmine couldn't've done it yet . . .

Please, God . . .

'It's all go today, love, isn't it?' smiles the vendor. 'Mind you, it's a good day for us, isn't it?'

I don't understand. The vendor's grin broadens. He holds up the first edition of the evening paper. I look at the headline: KAMAL HADLEY IS OUT!

'Stitched him up nicely. Hell has no fury

I still didn't understand.

'His ex-wife!' the vendor explains. 'Jasmine Hadley sent out a letter plus proof positive that Kamal Hadley took back-handers, made dodgy deals to get into power, did favours, even interfered to make sure a couple of his political mates didn't come to trial for fraud when they should've done. So he's stepped down. He says it's because he doesn't want his party to suffer before tomorrow's election, but I reckon it's too late. There's no way his party will win now. Thank goodness.'

Only the previous evening, all the news reports had Kamal's party ahead in the opinion polls. It was almost a foregone conclusion that Sephy's dad was going to be the next Prime Minister. But not any more.

And Jasmine had done that?

Another ambulance roared past.

The vendor smiled at me. 'Cheer up, love. It might never happen!'

I nodded, unable to smile back, but so grateful for his kindness.

Walk, Meggie. Just keep walking.

Callie Rose needs you.

And so will Sephy.

Were we never going to get out of this ruddy cellar? My bladder was beginning to say hello! I glanced down at my watch. It was almost four in the afternoon. Grandad Kamal was long gone from his house by now. Not that I cared about him. I still had so many questions for Mum. Nana Jasmine was right. There were things that only she could answer.

'Mum, were you and Dad . . . lovers before you were kidnapped?'

'No, love. That night in the cabin was our one and only time together.'

'And you got pregnant first time?'

'Yes, thank God,' said Mum sincerely. 'Because I got you.'

'Why . . . didn't you have an abortion like Grandad Kamal wanted?' I had to ask. 'You and Dad could have been together . . . '

'You really don't know?' Mum asked softly.

I shook my head. I had battled for months and months to try and figure that one out, but each possible reason was assessed and dismissed.

'Callum was . . . my present. You are the future. Callum was love. You are . . . hope. Callum was my other half. You are Callum and I as a whole. And there was no way Callum would have wanted to live, knowing you died for him. I know that like I know my own name. Your dad loved us both too much to put an end to something started with so much love.'

'So Dad never . . . raped you?' I had to look down as I spoke.

Mum placed her hand beneath my chin and lifted my face until my gaze met hers. 'Never. Never, ever. Your dad would've died before he did such a thing.'

'And that letter you showed me was real?' I asked. 'Dad really did . . . love you
–
and me?'

'He loved us very much, Callie Rose. I'm going to keep telling you that until you start believing me. If you doubt it, read your dad's letter again.'

So I did, slowly, carefully, letting each word of love wash over me. All at once I felt strangely lighter than air. Like something had been pressing me down, something heavy and malevolent. And now it was gone. I felt so strange, like a window had been thrown open inside my head and my heart, where there had been closed shutters before. And the light and the bright were filling me up so fast I could hardly breathe. A weird and wonderful feeling flooded through me as I looked at Mum. A feeling stronger than concern and as enduring as love. It took me more than a few seconds to recognize what it was.

Hope.

For the first time in, oh, so long, I had hope for the future. Hope that Nana Jasmine would get well again. Hope for Tobey and Lucas and school and my friends. Hope that Mum and I might get to know each other, might be friends, might even one day find something more.

Hope tried to flutter up within me. Doubt tried to squash it back down again.

'Mum?'

'Yes, love.'

'Why d'you believe Dad's first letter and not his second? Maybe the second one was the one he really meant?'

'No, he meant the first one,' Mum told me emphatically.

I needed more than words. I needed Mum's conviction to sweep away my fears.

So I asked again, 'Yes, but how d'you know?'