‘Oh please! Don’t pretend you did it for me because we both know that you did it for yourself, then the kids, then our neighbours and your friends. What I wanted, what I needed, came a long way down your list.’
‘I didn’t hear you protest when my parties got you known by all the right people, started you moving in all the right circles.’
‘No, I didn’t complain,’ Dad admitted. ‘But you got just as much out of it as I did.’
‘And now you’re going to walk out on me and your children for that . . . that . . .’ Mother’s voice dripped with bitterness.
‘Her name is Grace,’ Dad interrupted harshly. ‘And I’m not walking out on you now. I left a long time ago; you just refused to believe it. You and the children will get everything you need. You’ll be well provided for. And I want regular access to my girls. I love them too much to let you poison their minds against me. But after the next election, I’m going to make it officially known that you and I are no longer together.’
‘You won’t get away with this. I’ll . . . I’ll divorce you,’ Mother threatened. ‘I’ll tell all the newspapers . . .’
‘You’ll divorce me?’ Dad actually laughed. I flinched, sticking my fingers in my ears, only to take them out again at once. ‘Jasmine, the day you divorce me will be the happiest day of my life.’
‘You can’t afford the scandal of a divorce in your position. A position I helped you to get.’
‘If I had a penny for every time you’ve said that, I’d be the richest man on the planet,’ Dad replied.
Dad’s footsteps sounded on the parquet floor. I jumped to my feet and darted upstairs, not stopping until I’d reached my bedroom. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t even close to crying. I grabbed my jacket from over my chair and ran downstairs, heading out of the door before anyone could stop me. I needed to clear my head and our house wasn’t the place to do it. I ran and ran, through the rose garden, across the wasteland, towards the beach. Maybe if I ran fast enough my thoughts would click into some sort of order.
Dad had found someone else. He was leaving. And I had an older brother, older than Minnie. Nothing in my life was a fact. There was nothing to cling on to, nothing to anchor myself to. I just whirled around and around and . . .
Callum . . .
Callum was already there – in our place. In our space. I ran along the beach the moment I saw him and plonked myself down beside him. Callum put his arm around my shoulders. We sat in silence, whilst I tried to straighten out my thoughts. I looked at his face which was in profile. But I could see enough to realize there was something bothering him, something that was making him sad.
‘I’m sorry about Mr Jason,’ I said at last. ‘I finally got what you were talking about in today’s lesson.’
‘Don’t apologize for him,’ Callum frowned. ‘It’s not your place to apologize for every moronic cretin in the world.’
‘Only the moronic Cross cretins?’ I asked with a brief smile.
‘Not even those.’ Callum smiled back. ‘I’ll tell you what, you don’t apologize for every Cross who’s an idiot and I won’t apologize for every nought who’s the same. Agreed?’
‘It’s a deal.’ Callum and I shook hands.
Come on! Best to get it over with! I told myself. Taking a deep breath, I said, ‘Callum, I’ve got a confession to make. About my birthday party.’
He became very still the moment the words left my mouth. ‘Oh yes?’ he prompted, his arm dropping away from my shoulders.
‘It’s just that . . . I wanted you there, but for mostly the wrong reasons.’
‘Which were?’
‘I wanted to upset Mum and my so-called friends,’ I told him. ‘I wanted to hit back at all of them.’
‘I see.’
‘No, you don’t,’ I said. ‘I’m telling you now because I’m taking back my invite.’
‘Why?’
‘Because . . . because,’ I said, hoping Callum would get my ridiculous attempt at an explanation.
He secret-smiled at me, saying dryly. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome! We’ll do something else for my birthday – OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Growing up is hard work,’ I sighed again.
‘And it’s going to get harder,’ Callum warned, his voice suddenly grim.
I looked at him and opened my mouth to ask what he meant. But I closed my mouth without saying a word. I was too afraid of the answer.
thirty-two. Callum
It was late at night, past eleven, as I lay on top of my bed, trying to make sense of what Mrs Paxton had told me. Mr Jason’s mother was a nought . . . I was missing something somewhere. Mrs Paxton had been so sure that Mr Jason was on my side and yet every time he looked at me . . .
He hated me.
I was sure of it. I was almost sure of it. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe I was just being a coward, assuming that every Cross was my enemy so that if it turned out to be the case I could say ‘I told you so!’ But Mrs Paxton wasn’t my enemy. And Sephy certainly wasn’t. I rubbed my hands over my forehead. My thoughts were spinning round so much they were giving me a splitting headache. I wasn’t sure of anything any more.
Someone knocked on my door. I sat up.
‘Who is it?’
‘Lynny,’ said my sister. ‘Can I come in?’
‘’Course.’
Lynette came into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
‘You OK?’ I asked.
‘No,’ Lynny shook her head. ‘You?’
‘The same. But I’ll survive.’
Lynny gave me a strange look at that. But then she smiled and the peculiar expression on her face vanished without trace. Since Lynny’s and Jude’s fight, neither of them had
