‘There have been unconfirmed reports that the car bomb found outside the International Trade Centre last month was the work of the Liberation Militia,’ the newscaster continued. ‘What attempts are being made to find those responsible?’
‘I can tell you that our highest priority is to find those responsible and bring them to swift and irrevocable justice. Political terrorism which results in the death or serious injury of even one Cross always has been and always will be a capital crime. Those found guilty will suffer the death sentence, no two ways about it . . .’
Blah! Blah! Blah! Sephy’s dad droned on for at least another minute, not letting the newscaster get a word in edgeways, sideways or any other ways. I tuned out again, waiting for him to finish, hoping he wouldn’t.
nine. Sephy
‘Sephy, your dad’s on the telly.’ Mother opened my bedroom door to tell me.
I mean, big deal! Mother still thought I was five, bouncing up and down with excitement at the sight of my daddy on the TV.
‘Sephy!’
‘Yes, Mother. I’m watching.’ I pressed my TV remote control to switch it on. Anything for a quiet life! I got the right channel first time. How lucky!
‘. . . is misguided to say the least.’ Dad didn’t look too pleased. ‘Minister Pelango is very young and doesn’t realize that the rate of change in our society needs to be slow and steady . . .’
‘Any slower and we’d be going backwards,’ Minister Pelango interjected.
Dad didn’t looked too pleased at that either, though it made me smile.
‘We call ourselves civilized, yet noughts have more rights in other P.E.C. countries than they do here,’ Pelango continued.
‘And in plenty of other countries they have a lot less,’ Dad snapped back.
‘And that makes the way we treat them right, does it?’
‘If our ruling party politics don’t gel with Mr Pelango’s beliefs, then maybe he should do the honourable thing and resign his seat on the government,’ Dad said silkily.
‘No chance!’ came the immediate reply. ‘Too many people in this government live in the past. It’s my duty to drag them into the present or none of us – noughts or Crosses – will have a decent future.’
Mum left my room. The click of my bedroom door closing was immediately followed by the press of another TV channel button. I didn’t care which one. Any other channel would do. I’d grown up with politics, politics, politics being rammed down my throat. I wasn’t interested in being caught up in it in any manner, shape or form. Why couldn’t Mother understand that?
ten. Callum
When at last Kamal Hadley had stopped dribbling on, Heathcroft School appeared on the telly. Of course, they didn’t bother showing the fact that the police officers who were meant to be guarding us were letting the crowd get to us to poke and pinch and punch. Somehow the camera was never in the right place to show that the whole back of my jacket was awash with Cross spit. Surprise! Surprise! There wasn’t even a hint of any of that.
‘The noughts admitted to Heathcroft High School met with some hostility today . . .’ the news reporter began.
Some hostility? This reporter’s middle name was obviously ‘Euphy’, short for Euphemism!
‘Police officers were drafted in to keep the peace as it was feared that nought extremists might try to take advantage of the volatile situation . . .’ the newscaster continued.
Jude started muttering under his breath and to be honest, I didn’t blame him. Even I was disgusted at that and I had a much longer fuse than my brother. Lynette took hold of my hand. She smiled at me and I could feel the anger seeping out of my body. Only Lynette and Sephy could do that – make all the rage that sometimes threatened to blow up inside me just fade to nothing. But sometimes . . . sometimes I got so angry that I scared even myself.
The image on the screen cut from Shania falling over to Sephy shouting at the crowd. The TV camera zoomed in for a close-up. The newscaster announced as a voiceover, ‘Persephone Hadley, daughter of Kamal Hadley, had a hand in stopping the fracas . . .’
‘I’m going up to my room. I’ve got homework.’ I leapt to my feet.
I was too late. Those words spilt out of the telly before I could leave. I knew what to expect, what she was going to say, and it still made me wince. I left the room before anyone could say a word to me, but I knew my entire family was watching me leave. Closing the door quietly behind me, I leaned against it and took a deep breath.
Sephy . . .
‘They are all the same,’ I heard Jude scoff. ‘Crosses and noughts will never live in peace, let alone be friends and Callum’s just fooling himself if he thinks that Cross girl cares one clipped toenail about him. When push comes to shove she’ll dump him so fast his body will turn pear-shaped!’
‘You and I may know that, but he doesn’t,’ Dad surprised me by saying.
‘Well, the sooner he learns it, the better,’ Mum sighed.
‘And are you going to be the one that tells him?’ Dad asked. ‘’Cause I’m not.’
‘There’s not one of those Crosses that can be trusted,’ Jude declared.
No-one disagreed.
‘Someone should tell Callum the truth. Otherwise he’s going to get hurt,’ Jude continued.
‘Are you volunteering?’ asked Dad.
‘I will, if I have to,’ replied Jude.
‘No! No, I’ll do it,’ Mum said. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘When?’
‘When I get round to it. Now back off, both of you,’ Mum snapped.
I couldn’t listen to any more. I went upstairs, my shoulders slumped, my head hanging down.
