‘How’s school?’
‘It’s OK. I’m learning a lot.’ And wasn’t that the truth!
Lynny must’ve picked up on my tone of voice because she looked up and smiled dryly. ‘Tough going, huh?’
‘The toughest.’
‘Reckon you’ll stick with it?’
‘I’m in now. Wild horses couldn’t drag me out,’ I said belligerently.
Lynny smiled, her face full of admiration. ‘How d’you do it, Callum?’
‘Do what?’
‘Keep going?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Lynny challenged, which kind of made me start.
I smiled at her total conviction that I knew what I was doing. ‘I guess, I keep going because I know what I want.’
‘Which is?’
‘To be someone. To make a difference.’
Lynny looked at me and frowned. ‘What if you can’t do both?’
‘Huh?’
‘If you can only have one, which one means more to you? Being someone or making a difference?’
My smile was broad as I looked at her. I couldn’t help it.
‘What’s so funny?’ Lynny asked.
‘Nothing. It’s just that you and me talking like this, it reminds me of the old days,’ I told her. ‘We used to have debates about anything and everything. I’ve missed our talks.’
Lynny smiled back at me, her smile waning as she said, ‘You haven’t answered my question, and don’t try to wriggle out of it! Which one means more – being someone or making a difference?’
‘I don’t know. Being someone, I guess. Having a large house and money in the bank and not having to work and being respected wherever I go. When I’m educated and I’ve got my own business, there won’t be a single person in the world who’ll be able to look down on me – nought or Cross.’
Lynny considered me carefully. ‘Being someone, eh? I would’ve put money on you choosing the other one!’
‘Well, what’s the point of making a difference if you’ve got nothing to show for it, if there’s not even any money in it?’ I asked.
Lynny shrugged. She had a strange expression on her face, like she was sad for me.
‘What about you? What keeps you going?’ I asked.
Lynette smiled, a strange, mysterious smile as her thoughts turned in on themselves and I was totally excluded.
‘Lynny?’ I prompted, uncertainly.
My sister stood up and headed for the door. I thought that was the end of the conversation but she turned to me, just before she left the room.
‘D’you wanna know what kept me going, Cal?’ Lynny sighed. ‘Being bonkers! I miss being insane . . .’
‘Lynny, don’t say that.’ I leapt up. ‘You were never insane.’
‘No? Then why do I feel so empty now. I know I was living in a fantasy world before, but at least . . . at least I was somewhere. Now I’m nowhere.’
‘That’s not true . . .’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Lynny, you are all right, aren’t you?’ But even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.
‘I’m fine. I just need to sort myself out.’ Lynny sighed deeply. ‘Callum, doesn’t any of this ever strike you as – pointless?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just what I said. Our being here – it works from the Crosses’ point of view, but what about our own? Because if this is all there is, we might as well be robots. We might as well not exist at all.’
‘Things will get better, Lynny,’ I tried.
‘D’you really believe that?’
‘Yeah. I mean, I’m at Heathcroft High, aren’t I? A few years ago that would’ve been impossible. Unthinkable.’
‘But none of their universities will take you.’
I shook my head. ‘You don’t know that. By the time I’m ready to leave school they might.’
‘And then what?’
‘I’ll get a good job. And I’ll be on my way up.’
‘Doing what?’
My frown deepened as I glared at my sister. ‘You sound just like Mum.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to.’ Lynny turned around to leave the room. ‘Just remember, Callum,’ she said, her back towards me, ‘when you’re floating up and up in your bubble, that bubbles have a habit of bursting. The higher you climb, the further you have to fall.’
Lynette left the room, without bothering to shut my door. I stood up and walked over to do it myself, still annoyed with her. Of all people my sister should not just understand my dreams but cheer them. Let down didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I was just about to slam my door shut when I caught sight of Lynny’s face as she closed her own bedroom door behind her. She was hurting inside. Hurting badly and close to tears. I stepped out onto the landing, wincing as my bare feet struck a nail not flush with the greying, warped floorboards. By the time I’d rubbed my toe and looked up again, Lynny had gone.
thirty-three. Sephy
‘Minnie, can I come in?’
‘If you must,’ my sister said grudgingly.
I walked into her room, only to stop short when I saw my sister’s face. She’d been crying. I’d never seen my sister cry before. Ever.
‘Minnie, are you . .?’ I didn’t finish my question. I already knew the answer and besides, asking it would only have cheesed her off.
‘How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Minnie?’ my sister snapped. ‘My name is Minerva. M-I-N-E-R-V-A! Minerva!’
‘Yes, Minnie,’ I said.
Minnie looked at me and smiled reluctantly. ‘What d’you want, frog face?’ she asked.
I sat down on the chair in front of her dressing table. ‘I think Mother and Dad are going to get a divorce.’
‘That won’t happen,’ said Minnie.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘’Cause Dad’s been threatening Mother with a divorce for years – and it hasn’t happened yet.’ Minnie shrugged.
I thought for a moment. ‘But it was Mother who threatened it this time, not Dad.’
Minnie’s head snapped up at that. She stared at me.
‘D’you think they might then?’ I whispered.
Minnie shrugged and looked away again.
‘And what about our brother?’ I asked.
‘He’s not
