‘The reason doesn’t matter. The point is, they did it. We’ll reap what we sow, you mark my words. The noughts are here now and if we don’t act soon, this whole scheme will fail.’ Pause. ‘Or is that the point?’
Mrs Paxton was fighting a losing battle and she didn’t even know it. I couldn’t bear to listen to any more. I turned and tiptoed out, careful to shut the door behind me without making a sound. Less than a minute later, Mrs Paxton came striding out of the secretary’s office. She stopped abruptly when she saw me.
‘Callum, what’re you doing out here?’ Mrs Paxton frowned. ‘Callum?’
‘Mr Jason sent me out of the class, miss.’
‘Why?’
I bit my lip. My gaze dropped away from hers.
‘Why, Callum?’
‘We . . . we had an argument . . .’
Mrs Paxton waited for me to continue.
‘. . . about history.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘It’s not fair, Mrs Paxton. I’ve read thousands of history books and not one of them mentions us noughts, except to say how the Crosses fought against us and won. I thought history was supposed to be the truth.’
‘Ah!’ Mrs Paxton nodded. ‘And you expressed your views to Mr Jason?’
I nodded.
‘I see.’
‘Callum, sometimes it’s better to leave certain things unsaid . . .’
‘But that’s what everyone does . . Nearly everyone does,’ I amended. ‘And things that go unsaid soon get forgotten. That’s why us noughts aren’t in any of the history books and we never will be unless we write them ourselves. Mr Jason didn’t like it when I said that us noughts have done things too. But then Mr Jason doesn’t like anything I do or say. He hates me.’
‘Nonsense. Mr Jason just doesn’t want to see you fail. And being hard on you is his way of trying to . . .’ Mrs Paxton sought for the appropriate thing to say, ‘to toughen you up.’
‘Yeah, right.’ I didn’t even try to keep the derisive scepticism out of my voice.
Mrs Paxton placed a hand under my chin to raise my head so that I had to look directly at her. ‘Callum, a change of policy at this school and all schools was long overdue. Believe me, Mr Jason doesn’t want to see you fail any more than I do. We don’t want to see any of the noughts fail.’
‘And he told you this, did he?’
Mrs Paxton’s hand dropped to her side. ‘He didn’t have to.’
‘Yeah, right.’ I dismissed immediately.
Mrs Paxton looked thoughtful for a few moments. ‘Callum, I’m going to tell you something in the strictest confidence. I’m going to trust you. D’you understand?’
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.
‘Mr Jason isn’t against you. And d’you know why?’
‘No . . .’
‘Because his mother was a nought.’
thirty-one. Sephy
‘Don’t treat me like this, Kamal. I won’t stand for it.’
‘Then go and have another bottle or eight of wine. That’s about all you’re good for these days.’
I winced at Dad’s tone of voice, so utterly contemptuous and he made no attempt to hide or disguise it. Minnie sat on the stair above mine as we listened to one of our parents’ rare arguments. Rare because Dad was never at home. Rare because on the very few occasions that Dad was home, Mother was usually too out of it to notice or too refined to start an argument. We’d just finished our dinner in the family room and both Minnie and I had been sent upstairs by Mother to do our homework. That alone was enough to tip us off that something was going on. Mother never told us to do our homework unless she wanted to get us out of the way.
‘So you’re not even going to deny it?’ Mother asked.
‘Why should I? It’s about time you and I faced the truth. Past time in fact.’
‘Kamal, what’ve I done to deserve this? I’ve always been a good wife to you. A good mother to our children.’
‘Oh yes,’ Dad agreed. And if possible his tone grew even more sneering. ‘You’ve been an excellent mother to all my children.’
I turned to give my sister a puzzled look. She was looking straight ahead. What did Dad mean by that?
‘I did my best.’ Mother sounded like she was starting to cry.
‘Your best? Your best isn’t up to much.’
‘Was I supposed to let you bring your bastard into our house?’ Mother shouted.
‘Oh no! The great Jasmine Adeyebe-Hadley bring up her husband’s child as her own? That would never do. I mean, God forbid that you should chip a nail or dirty one of your designer gowns looking after my son.’
‘I should have let you bring your son into our house, I know that now,’ Mother said. ‘But when you told me, I was hurt. I made a mistake.’
‘So did I, when I married you,’ Dad shot back. ‘You wanted to punish me for my son who was born before you and I ever met and that’s what you spent years doing. Don’t blame me if I’ve finally decided enough is enough.’
Dad had a son? Minnie and I had a brother. I turned to my sister. She was looking at me, her eyes narrowed. We had a brother . . .
‘Kamal, I want . . . I was hoping that maybe we could start again,’ Mother began hesitantly. ‘Just you and me. We could go away somewhere and . . .
‘Oh, Jasmine, don’t be ridiculous,’ Dad interrupted. ‘It’s over. Just accept the fact. Besides, look at you . . . You’ve really let yourself go.’
I gasped at that – and I wasn’t the only one.
‘You’re a cruel man,’ Mother cried.
‘And you’re a drunk,’ said Dad. ‘And worse than that, you’re a boring drunk.’
Minnie stood up and headed upstairs. I didn’t blame her. I knew I should do the same. Stop listening. Walk away. Just go, before I ended up hating both my parents – but I stayed put. Like a fool, I stayed put.
‘If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be Deputy Prime
