Checkmate

by Malorie Blackman

  Sephy Scared

  She is so scared

  She just lashes out

  She's afraid that I'll see

  What she's all about

  She thinks I don't know

  That I cannot feel,

  Can't see what is false

  And can't tell what is real.

  She is so lost

  She doesn't want to be found

  Wants to lift up and soar

  But can't get off the ground

  All I want is her heart

  To beg, borrow, steal

  She can't see what is false

  And can't tell what is real.

  Oh, she's alone in her heart

  She's alone in her head

  As her loneliness grows.

  Oh, I'm not a part of her life

  I'm just the man in her bed

  Who loves her more than she knows

  She is so . . .

  I couldn't bear to read any more.

  Sephy Scared . . .

  Is that how Sonny saw me? Is that what I was? I put down the sheet of paper which was suddenly burning my fingers. I picked up my bag, stood up and, after one last look at Sonny, walked quietly out of the room.

  eighteen. Rose is 9

  Ella and me were playing. It was the first time Ella had come round to my house after school – and it 'was great. We've never been particular friends before this term, but she always asks to play with me at lunch time. And when we have games and have to find a partner, she always rushes over to stand by me. So we're good friends now. And she was good fun – not like her brother Lucas, who was a real pain. We played a couple of computer games, but Ella wasn't really into them so then we played hide and seek. Mum made us sausages, chips and beans for dinner and it was lovely. I sort of drowned the chips in too much vinegar when Mum wasn't looking, so they tasted all soggy and sour. I couldn't eat them but I told Mum I wasn't too hungry for chips. I didn't tell her that I could've sucked out at least half a cup of vinegar from each one.

  'My compliments to the chef, Mum!' I said as I put down my knife and fork.

  She always lets me off eating what's left on my plate when I say that.

  'Thank you, kind miss,' smiled Mum. Then she curtseyed. Mum and I both laughed whilst Ella looked at Mum like she was a fruit-and-nut bar. Ella and me went out into the garden to play on the swing until we both got bored of that as well. Then I had a brilliant idea.

  'D'you want to play with my puppet theatre?' I asked. 'Nana Jasmine gave it to me for my birthday.'

  'Yes, please,' said Ella.

  We'd only just got it out when the front doorbell went.

  'Ohhh!' Both Ella and me groaned. Ella's mum had come round much too soon.

  'Rose, could you open the door please?' Mum called from the kitchen.

  'I'll stay here and set up the puppets,' said Ella.

  'OK. I'll be right back,' I said, hoping hard that Ella's mum would want to stay. 'What's your mum's name?'

  'Nichelle.'

  'That's pretty.'

  I headed downstairs to open the door. I liked Ella's mum. She wore her hair in long, skinny locks that were never tied back – at least, I'd never seen them tied back. Every time I saw her in the playground, she wore lipstick and eye shadow and she wasn't spotty or anything. She always looked like she'd just stepped out of the pages of one of Nana Meggie's fashion magazines. As I opened the door, Ella's mum smiled.

  'Hi, Mrs Cheshie,' I said.

  'Hello, Rose,' she replied. 'Call me Nichelle.'

  Which was very nice of her. Some grown-ups are allergic to being called by their first names by anyone younger than them. Maybe she 'would let Ella stay for a while . . . ?

  But then I saw him – Ella's older brother Lucas. Ella had already warned me about him – as if I needed warning. I still hadn't forgotten the time he got me into trouble with Mr Brewster. I still hadn't forgotten the bad name he'd called me either. He was just over a year older than me and Ella, but he went around like he was years and years above us. He looked a bit like Ella, though his locks were shorter, and he had the longest eyelashes I'd ever seen on a boy. He had eyes the colour of baked conkers, and I guess he was OK-looking, but he was scowling at me so hard, it was a bit tricky to tell. Well, two could do that! I glared at him. His frown faded whilst mine grew stronger. He stepped behind his mum. My mum came down the hall, wiping her hands in a couple of sheets of kitchen towel.

  'Can I help you?' Mum said politely from behind me.

  'I'm here for Ella.'

  'You're Nichelle?'

  'That's right.'

  'Hi. I'm Persephone. Callie Rose's mum. Call me Sephy. Please come in. Would you like a cup of tea?'

  For some reason, Ella's mum looked surprised. Had she never had a cup of tea before?

  'I'd love one,' she smiled.

  Yes! Fantastic! Because that meant that Ella and me could play together for longer. We could make up a story for the puppets. Mum and Nichelle disappeared into the kitchen for a mums' chat. So I knew they'd be ages. Lucas shut the door behind him. I ran back upstairs to my bedroom, leaving him in the hall. Ella had made a sign for my door which said, KEEP OUT, LUCAS! GIRLS ONLY! and stuck it up with sticky-tacky from my craft box. I went into my room and shut the door. A few seconds later, it opened again. And in walked Lucas.

  'Can't you read?' asked Ella. 'The sign on the door says keep out, Lucas.'

  'No, it doesn't.'

  'Yes, it does.'

  'Go away, Lucas,' I told him.

  'Won't.' Lucas stood in the middle of the room, his legs planted in my carpet like tree roots.

  Ella and me glared at him but he wouldn't move. He hadn't changed at all. I thought about pulling him out of my bedroom, but then Mum would shout and Ella's mum would take her home.

  'Just ignore him,' said Ella. 'Then he'll soon get the message and scram.'

  Looking at Lucas, I wasn't so sure. The scowl was gone from his face and now he was just watching me like I'd sprouted an extra head or something. He had the kind of look on his face that I get when I get lost in a really good book. Lucas didn't look like he'd care much if we ignored him. He was where he wanted to be and anything else would be jam on top. Ella and I kneeled down, deciding which puppets we wanted to play with.

  'Can I play?' asked Lucas.

  'NO!' Ella snapped.

  I looked at Lucas. Maybe he'd go now? The answer to that was no. He stood there watching us. When he saw me looking at him, to my amazement he smiled. Even more amazingly, I smiled back. Lucas had a surprisingly nice smile!

  'Rose! Don't encourage him,' Ella told me off.

  'Sorry,' I muttered and returned to the puppets.

  Ella and me – but mainly Ella – made up a story about a nasty little boy called Lucas who was captured by a dragon. The dragon tried to eat him but Lucas was so tough and gristly that the dragon spat him out, unfortunately without biting him to death first (Ella came up with that bit). Then Lucas's sister and her best friend (we're best friends now!) set off on an epic adventure to rescue him. We acted out the whole thing with our puppets and put on different voices for the different characters. It was so much fun – except for Lucas standing there the entire time, watching us. Now and then, he'd ask if he could join in but Ella always said no. I would've let him play rather than have him just stand in my room, watching.

  At last Ella's mum called her and Lucas downstairs. Lucas ran out of the room immediately – thank goodness.

  'Let's pack this stuff away,' said Ella, surprising me. I would've thought she'd want to play some more.

  'We can carry on for a little while longer,' I said.

  'No, we can't. Mum said that if I didn't come the first time she called me, I couldn't come here again,' Ella whispered.

  We put all the puppets back in their boxes and packed away the puppet theatre before leaving my bedroom. I didn't miss the stern look Ella's mum gave her as we headed downstairs.

  'Ella was helping me put away
my puppet theatre,' I quickly explained. I didn't want Ella to get into trouble.

  I glanced at Lucas and didn't miss the way he was looking at me either. He had the same puzzled look on his face that he'd had in my bedroom.

  'Mum, what's wrong with Rose?' Lucas whispered loud enough for practically the whole street to hear.

  I frowned at him. And what was he talking about? There wasn't anything wrong with me.

  'Nothing – as far as I know. What d'you mean?' asked his mum.

  'Why didn't Dad want Ella to come here and play with her then?' asked Lucas.

  'Nonsense.' Nichelle's voice was sharp as pins. 'Your dad never said that.'

  'Yes, he did,' Lucas argued. 'I heard you two talking last night. He said he didn't want Callie Rose setting foot in our house and he didn't want Ella playing with some dirty halfer.'

  The whole world stopped. The house stopped. My breath stopped. My heart stopped. My heart froze solid. Just for a moment.

  'Lucas, that's quite enough,' his mum hissed like an angry snake.

  Lucas looked at her, bewildered.

  'Your dad never said that,' Nichelle said, really cross.

  'But I heard him . . .' said Lucas, even more puzzled. 'I heard you and Dad talking last night. But Rose isn't dirty. I don't get—'

  'Lucas, don't you say another word. D'you hear?'

  I thought Nichelle was going to slap him. I turned to look at Ella on the stair beside me, but she looked away from me. She didn't say a word – which said a lot.

  'We have to go now. Ella, get down here,' Nichelle ordered.

  I stayed put halfway up the stairs. I looked at Lucas; he didn't take his eyes off me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nichelle snatch up Ella's school bag.

  'Ella, what d'you say to Rose and her mum?'

  'Thank you for having me,' said Ella politely.

  'Don't mention it,' Mum replied quietly.

  Nichelle opened the door and ushered Ella outside. Lucas was still watching me.

  'Lucas, move!' Nichelle ordered.

  'Bye, Rose,' said Lucas.

  I didn't answer.

  'Bye, Rose,' Lucas repeated.

  'Bye.'

  Making sure he smiled at me first, Lucas left, followed by Ella and Nichelle. Mum shut the door quietly behind them before immediately turning to look at me.

  'Mum, what's a halfer?'

  'It's an ignorant word said by ignorant people to mean someone whose Mum was a Cross and whose Dad was a Nought or vice versa,' said Mum quietly. But each word came out clipped and precise.

  'I thought that was it,' I said.

  'You shouldn't've had to hear it now,' Mum said.

  'Why doesn't Ella's dad like me?'

  'Ella's dad doesn't know you. And some people . . . a lot of people are afraid of things they don't know.'

  A grown man scared of me? That didn't make any sense at all. 'What's he afraid of?'

  'Change,' Mum replied immediately. 'A lot of people are terrified of changes. They worship the status quo – which means when things stay exactly the same. But that's not what life is about. Life is all about changes – some good, some bad. Some people, like Ella's dad, don't get that.'

  I looked at Mum, not sure I totally understood. I started making my way back up the stairs.

  'Rose, d'you . . . I mean . . . d'you want to ask me anything?' asked Mum solemnly.

  I turned and shook my head. 'I have to tidy up my room.'

  'I'm sorry you had to hear that horrible word,' Mum said from behind me.

  'Don't worry, Mum. It's not the first time I've heard it and I knew it wasn't a compliment. I just wondered what it meant, that's all.'

  'Has someone called you that before?' Mum said sharply. 'You never told me.'

  'It doesn't matter.' I shrugged.

  'Yes, it does. You listen to me, Callie Rose Hadley, you're not "half" anything. D'you understand me? You're wholly you. Half implies short measures or a fraction of something. You haven't got half a tongue or half a brain. And you're not a zebra with black and white stripes.'

  'Yes, I know, Mum.'

  'I hope you do,' Mum said, coming up the stairs. 'Because you're lucky. You can take the best of being a Cross and the best of being a Nought and put them together to create the person you want to be. D'you understand?'

  'Chill, Mum. It's OK.' Mum was getting all hetted and fretted up. 'I think it's lucky that I've got a Cross mum and a Nought dad.'

  'Why?'

  "Cause I can't go round liking one and not the other, can I? 'Cause I'm both.'

  It took three attempts before Mum finally managed a proper smile.

  'What's the matter, Mum?' I had to ask: even though she was still smiling, she looked like she wanted to cry.

  'I just . . . sometimes I forget just how sensible you are.'

  Mum kissed my forehead. I put my arms round her waist to hug her. I was glad she'd cheered up a bit.

  'We shouldn't cuddle on the stairs – it's dangerous,' Mum told me. She unwrapped my arms from round her middle. Again.

  I carried on upstairs.

  'OK, Rose?' Mum called after me.

  I didn't answer.

  What was the point?

  nineteen. Rose is 9

  Hello, Daddy,

  It's my birthday tomorrow, but I didn't have a very good day today. I was searching through Mum's wardrobe trying to find my birthday present and guess what I found? A diary. Mum's diary. I opened it and an old piece of folded paper fell out. I looked around but luckily no one was behind me. Mum would get all stressy if she caught me searching for my birthday present. I lifted up one corner of the folded paper, but it was just handwriting – nothing interesting. I put the tatty bit of paper back and flicked through the rest of the diary. My mum's got terrible writing. I could only recognize the odd word. I flicked through it but there were no drawings or anything. Nothing to make it interesting. But then, right at the back of the diary there was a photo. It was a Nought man with his arm around the shoulders of a Cross girl. And they were both grinning away and they looked so happy. I looked closer. And guess what? It was Mum! She looked so young. And who was the Nought man? Was it . . . maybe it was my dad? I bent even closer to the photograph to get a really good look. He smiled like me, with his mouth and his eyes. Our faces weren't the same shape but our eyes were. Was this really my dad? I took out the photo and put the diary back where I'd found it. Then I headed downstairs.

  Mum was in the kitchen, getting herself a glass of orange juice.

  'Mum, is this my dad?'

  Mum came over to get a closer look at the photo. And when she saw it, her face changed faster than a blink. She turned to me, her expression sharp as broken glass.

  'Where did you get that?' Her voice was strangely quiet.

  I could've sworn she was going to shout. Looking at her, I think it would've been better if she had shouted.

  'Callie Rose Hadley, I asked you a question.'

  Mum was using my whole, full name. I was for it now. 'I found it.'

  'Found it – where?'

  I decided to say nothing now. Mum looked like a kettle about to boil.

  'Did you go searching through my wardrobe? ANSWER ME.'

  'Yes, Mummy.'

  Mum drew back her hand and it came rushing towards my face as she went to slap me. But then her hand froze just a couple of centimetres away from my cheek. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. Mum's open hand turned into a fist – I could see it out of the corner of my eye. Then her hand dropped to her side. My face was wet. I was crying and I hadn't even realized. Mum looked at me. I looked at Mum. Neither of us spoke.

  'What're you crying for?' said Mum fiercely. 'I didn't hit you, did I?'

  But she was going to. Mum had never hit me before. She'd never even tried. Until now.

  'Give me that photo,' Mum demanded.

  I handed it over without a word.

  'Now go to your room and stay there until I call you,' said Mum.

  I ra
n away. I didn't want to be anywhere near Mum. She was actually going to hit me. And all I'd done was ask about a photograph. If that was the way she was going to be, I'd never ask her anything again. Never, ever.

  twenty. Sephy

  God, forgive me.

  Callum, forgive me.

  I'm so sorry, Callie Rose. I wouldn't've done it. I wouldn't've hit you. I promised . . . I promised anyone who would listen that I'd never hurt you again. Never in a million years.

  But I came so close.

  Fear drove my hand. Fear of the past. Fear of the future. Fear of questions. Fear of answers.

  Look at us, Callum. We were so happy in this photo. I'd almost forgotten I had it. Look at us, ready to take on the world. We had each other so it was a fight we couldn't lose.

  But we did.

  Seeing the photo after all these years made it all come rushing back. And I almost took it out on my daughter.

  I'm so sorry, Callie Rose.

  I'm so, so sorry.

  twenty-one.

  Rose is 10

  Nana Meggie and Mum sat at opposite ends of the room, ignoring each other. Maybe ignoring was too strong a word. They weren't exactly uninterested in each other, not the way that married couple are in Nana Meggie's favourite soap on the TV. (The programme really sucks! And Mum agrees! Talk about unbelievable! I mean, how long can one restaurant owner date four brothers all at the same time without any of them finding out? And she still finds the time to run the restaurant, buy and run a nightclub and bring up her sister's two children. I mean, get real!) Nana and Mum were doing their 'I'm not talking first' routine. They'd both talk to me but would only answer each other. And since no one wanted to ask anything and be the first to crack the silence, it was left to me to do it all. Again.

  I wish I could figure out what's wrong with the two of them.

  Sometimes, it gets so cold when they are together that I have to leave the room before my toes drop off from frostbite. In fact, I was just standing up when Tobey ambled into the room.