Checkmate

by Malorie Blackman

  'I must've mislaid it.' I shrugged.

  'Hang on,' said Lucas.

  I watched as he slid his rucksack off his back and started rummaging through it.

  'Lucas, we're going to be late,' one of his friends protested.

  The boy on the other side of him frowned as he looked from Lucas to me and back again. Ignoring him, Lucas drew a crumpled and disgusting-looking piece of paper out of his bag.

  'There you go,' he said. 'You can have mine.'

  'Thanks,' I said, taking the map carefully between my thumb and index finger. 'That's very kind of you.'

  'That's very kind of you,' Lucas's friend mimicked.

  My face started to burn.

  'Shut up,' Lucas hissed at his friend. Then he turned to me and smiled. 'Hope the map helps.'

  And with that, he walked off. I was left watching him, wondering why he'd bothered to help me.

  forty-eight. Meggie

  'Can I get you a drink?'

  I smiled at the nought waiter before giving the menu one last glance. Even though I was ready to order, I didn't say so.

  'Yes, er . . . can I have a cup of tea please.'

  'Peppermint, camomile, jasmine green or breakfast?' asked the waiter.

  'Er . . . breakfast please.'

  'Certainly.'

  'Thank you so much.'

  I looked down at the menu again, even though I knew what I wanted. Eating out wasn't a comfortable experience for me. I still remembered when we noughts weren't allowed in places like this. It wasn't too many years ago when we weren't welcome in any Cross restaurants. So it was a case of get a take-away meal or pack up a load of food from home, especially if we were visiting relatives who lived more than a couple of hours' drive away. There was no such thing as stopping off at a restaurant or café for a meal along the way. And now here I was in The Garden Experience, one of the best restaurants in the Dundale Shopping Centre in town, but I found it hard to look at my surroundings or catch anyone's eye. I guess I was too apprehensive about meeting stares of disapproval. My husband Ryan always used to say I cared too much about what other people thought. And he was right.

  So what if some of the other customers didn't like me being in the same restaurant as them? That was their problem, not mine. I took a deep breath and forced myself to look around quickly. No one was looking at me. At least, I don't think anyone was. My quick glance around hadn't rested in any one place long enough for me to be sure. How foolish was that?

  Let go of the past, Meggie. That was then and this is now.

  But letting go of the past was easier said than done when it stuck to my head and my heart like superglue. I was better now than I used to be though. Some people didn't give me enough credit for that. Some people couldn't see how hard I was trying to move forward. The place was filled with late-night shoppers or those who'd just come out of, or who were about to go into, the multiplex cinema. I was quite hungry but I decided a light dinner would be best. That way, I wouldn't have to stay too long.

  'Hello.'

  I looked up at the man who'd just spoken. His appearance made me start. I stared, trying to take in the changes. His hair colour had changed from the last time I saw him. He was almost blond now and he'd dyed his eyebrows to match. He wore glasses, which was also different. He was still very muscular, almost thick-set. No doubt he was still boxing and working out.

  'Hello, son,' I said quietly.

  Jude sat down, his eyes darting around restlessly. He reminded me of a hunted animal.

  'Did you—?'

  'Yes. I took two buses and a taxi,' I interrupted. 'I wasn't followed.'

  We had this same conversation every time we met. Why did I bother to do this? Jude and I met irregularly, about three or four times a year, sometimes more, often less. Jude was still a wanted man. And every time I met up with him, he broke my heart.

  'How are you?'

  I shrugged. 'I'm fine.'

  'Still living with the enemy?'

  'Don't start, Jude,' I sighed.

  'Is she never going to move out of your house?'

  'I don't want her to go. I'd miss her and my granddaughter too much.'

  ' Granddaughter?'

  'Yes, your niece. The daughter of your brother—'

  'Let's change the subject,' Jude said abruptly.

  'What d'you want to talk about?'

  'D'you need anything? Money?'

  'No, I'm fine.'

  'Living off that woman's money,' said Jude bitterly.

  'I work, Jude. Sephy helps out with some of the bills but I don't expect her to do it all.'

  'If you got rid of her, I'd pay your bills for you.'

  'I don't want you to,' I said bluntly.

  'So you're happy to take her money, but not mine.'

  'Hers isn't covered in blood.'

  'I work in admin, I told you,' said Jude.

  'But you work for the L.M.'

  Jude sat back in his chair, regarding me steadily. I was aware of my own heartbeat, pounding ever faster as my son sat and watched me. Jude opened his mouth to speak, just as the waiter appeared with my tea.

  'Ready to order?' asked the waiter cheerfully.

  'Yes, thank you. I'll have the chicken salad.'

  'Anything to start?'

  'No, thank you.'

  The waiter turned to Jude. 'Anything for you, sir?'

  'No, thank you.'

  'Can I get you a drink?'

  'Don't your ears work? I said no.'

  'Jude,' I admonished.

  'Very good, sir,' said the waiter, his smile wavering.

  As he walked off, I said to my son, 'There was no need to be so rude.'

  'Don't use my name in public, Mum,' Jude said softly. 'I've told you before.'

  'So what should I call you?' I asked. 'Jude is your name. Your dad picked it out especially.'

  'Are you so anxious to see me hang?' asked Jude.

  Ah, there they were. Words to squeeze my heart. And it had taken no time at all for them to be uttered. Less than five minutes.

  'You think seeing one son hanged wasn't enough?'

  Jude had the grace to look away, however briefly.

  'Sorry, Mum.'

  My heart still felt like it was being pinched. Jude slid a padded envelope towards me.

  'Please take it. I want to help,' he said.

  So I picked it up and put it in my handbag – the way I always did. And the envelope would find its way, unopened, onto the church collection plate – the way it always did.

  'You look tired,' said Jude after a long moment's silence.

  'I am tired,' I agreed. 'If you hadn't phoned me to arrange this meeting, I would've stayed in bed today.'

  'You should've said.'

  'You're my son, Jude, and I love you. I'm not going to pass up the chance to see you,' I told him.

  Jude looked away, almost embarrassed. At least, that's what it looked like to me. He was so uncomfortable with any word or sign of affection from me.

  'D'you have anyone, Jude?'

  'That again.' Jude sighed with impatience.

  'It's a simple question.'

  'No, Mum. There's no one. I'm too busy.'

  'Too busy to share your life with someone? Too busy to have someone care about you? And I would love more grandchildren.'

  Jude didn't answer.

  'You're too busy doing what?'

  Jude looked me straight in the eyes, his lips a thin line. I had my answer. Jude's life was entwined with his one and only love – the Liberation Militia. No one else could even compete.

  'Callie Rose is at secondary school now, isn't she?' asked Jude.

  'Yes,' I smiled. 'She's been there two terms now. It took her a while to settle in but now she's . . .'

  Jude leaned forward, intent on my every word. The restaurant suddenly became very hot. When did it get this hot? Why on earth didn't they turn the heating down?

  Wary, I licked my lips. 'Why the sudden interest?'

  'Like you
said, Mum, she is my niece,' said Jude.

  Very carefully, I rested my hands on my lap, right hand on top of my left. And there was no sound in the restaurant except my breathing. I looked around. I could see other people, chatting, laughing; one Cross woman was even leaning across the table to kiss the man opposite. But no sound. I watched them all. In slow motion the Cross woman turned to smile. She caught me watching and smiled happily at me. Then all the noise and bustle of the place descended like a rain of bricks over me. It made my head ache.

  'Jude, stay away from Callie Rose. OK?'

  'I was only—'

  'I don't want to hear it. I'm warning you, leave my granddaughter alone or else.'

  'Or else what?'

  I stood up. 'You can pay for my meal. I've lost my appetite.'

  I walked out of the restaurant, my neck muscles aching, the light hurting my eyes, my stomach turning over. I groaned inwardly as my headache flowered into a migraine. I turned round to take another look at my son.

  He wasn't watching me but even from across the restaurant I could see his cold, cold smile.

  forty-nine. Sephy

  Rose pushed her hair back from her face with an impatient hand.

  'Why don't you tie it back if it's getting on your nerves?' I suggested.

  Rose looked up at me. 'It's OK.'

  She pronged one of the sausages on her plate and bit into it. Her mind wasn't on her dinner though, that much was obvious.

  'How was school today, Rose?'

  'Mum, could you call me Callie Rose, please? I have asked you before.'

  'I know, but I've spent years calling you Rose,' I pointed out. 'I'll try to remember. Anyway, why the sudden urge to change?'

  'I just prefer Callie Rose. I think it's prettier and less weedy and it reminds me of my dad.'

  'Rose isn't a weedy name – by definition.'

  'You know what I mean,' said Rose impatiently. She dug her fork into her mashed potato and stuffed that into her mouth as well.

  'Rose, I mean Callie Rose, your food isn't about to run off your plate so there's no need to stuff so much into your mouth at once.'

  'Yes, Mum,' said Rose, her mouth more than half full.

  I was about to nag her about that as well, when I decided against it. I didn't want our entire conversation around the table to be me nagging and Rose arguing. What I wanted to do was open my arms and tell her . . .

  'Where's Nana Meggie?' Rose asked.

  'She went into town to have dinner with a friend,' I replied.

  'She did?' Rose couldn't've been any more astonished. And I couldn't blame her. Meggie had gone out for dinner. We'd have blue snow falling by morning.

  'Who's the friend?' asked Rose.

  I shrugged. 'No idea. I don't pry into Meggie's business.'

  'So you didn't ask her?'

  'No.'

  Rose studied me, that thoughtful expression on her face that I've come to know so well and dread so much. She was about to ask me one of her impossible-to-answer questions.

  'How come you pry into my business but not Nana Meggie's?'

  'Callie Rose, I don't pry, but you're my daughter so I'm interested in everything you do. More than interested. I . . . I care about you,' I tried to explain.

  Just say the words. Why d'you find them so difficult to say? Lack of practice? Yes, lack of practice. Then tell your daughter how you feel. The more you say it, the easier it becomes. Just say it . . .

  'Don't you care about Meggie then?'

  I frowned.

  'Is that why you two never really talk to each other?' Rose continued.

  'We do talk.'

  'No.' Rose shook her head. 'She asks you a question and you answer or vice versa. She tells you something or you pass on information, but you and Nana don't sit and talk like you and Nana Jasmine do.'

  'Well, your Nana Jasmine is my mother

  'And Nana Meggie is my dad's mum,' said Rose. 'Don't you like her?'

  'Of course I . . . I do. It's just that . . .'

  Rose looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.

  'Meggie and I . . . we have a lot of history to deal with.'

  'What kind of history?'

  I sighed deeply. Why on earth hadn't I just said that Meggie was the best thing since grated cheese and left it at that?

  'Rose, a lot of the things you now take for granted weren't the same in my day,' I began.

  In my day . . . ! How old did that sound?

  'Like what?'

  'Like Noughts and Crosses going to the same schools for one. When I was your age, Noughts weren't allowed to go to public schools past the age of fourteen.'

  'But that was decades ago when people didn't like Noughts and Crosses mixing,' said Rose.

  'It wasn't "decades" ago,' I said dryly. 'I'm not that old. The law was only changed a few years before you were born.'

  'I thought you said Dad and you went to the same school,' said Rose.

  'Only because the law was changed in the year your dad started at Heathcroft. Callum was one of the first Noughts to go to a Cross school.'

  'I still don't understand. What has that to do with you and Nana Meggie?'

  'Meggie lost a lot, Rose, because of those times. She watched her family disintegrate around her. Disintegrate means—'

  'I know what it means,' Rose interrupted.

  'There's no need to snap my head off

  'Don't change the subject.'

  She'd noticed.

  'It's not your fault that Aunt Lynette was knocked down or that my dad died. They were just accidents. Does Nana Meggie blame you for all the horrible things that happened to her?' asked Rose.

  Accidents? Tell Callie Rose the truth, Sephy. Here's your chance. Tell your daughter how Callum really died. And why. Tell Rose about her Grandad Ryan's trial and what happened to him in prison. Tell her. Don't wimp out again. Just do it.

  But I couldn't. The timing wasn't right. I ignored the voice inside asking if the timing would ever be right?

  'No, I don't think she blames me . . .' I began. 'But she grew up in a time when it was hard for Noughts and Crosses to be true friends.'

  'So doesn't she like you?'

  'It's not that simple, Rose.' I sighed again. I felt like a fly in a spider's web and the more I tried to extricate myself, the worse I was making things. 'When you were born I was ill for a while and Meggie had to sort things out. After I stopped being ill, Meggie and I—'

  'Hello, Nana Meggie,' smiled Rose.

  I turned quickly. How long had Meggie been standing there, listening?

  'Hi, sweetie.' Meggie smiled at Rose. 'You'd better hurry up and eat your dinner before it gets cold. Hello, Sephy.'

  'Hello, Meggie.'

  'How was your dinner, Nana?' asked Rose.

  'Not very good,' said Meggie. 'That's why I ducked out early.'

  'D'you want some dinner with us?' I asked. 'There's plenty.'

  'No, thanks,' said Meggie. 'I'm not hungry. Actually, I've got a bit of a headache so I'm going to have a lie down for a while.'

  After directing another warm smile at Rose, Meggie headed out of the room.

  'Mum, you—'

  The doorbell rang. Thank God! I practically sprinted from the room. I couldn't cope with any more questions about the past. I really couldn't. I opened the door and my heart bounced like a tennis ball.

  'Hello, Sephy.'

  'Sonny! Hi. I . . . er . . . d'you want to come in?' I was all confusion.

  I stood to one side as Sonny stepped past me.

  'Mum, who is it? Sonny!'

  Rose launched herself forward into Sonny's open arms. The smile on her face could've lit the whole street.

  'I've missed you, Sonny. How come you haven't been around for ages?'

  'I've missed you too, pumpkin,' Sonny grinned. 'Very, very much.'

  'Are you back now?'

  Sonny put Rose to her feet. 'I need to speak to your mum, pumpkin.'

  Rose stood there, smiling at
him.

  'In private, Callie Rose,' Sonny said ruefully.

  'Oh. I'll go and finish my dinner then,' said Rose. She looked at me, fierce suspicion on her face, before turning back to Sonny. 'You're not going to leave without saying goodbye, are you?'

  'I'd never do that,' said Sonny.

  'That's all right then,' said Rose, satisfied.

  She trotted back into the kitchen. Now that we were alone, I felt my face begin to burn. I couldn't help remembering the last humiliating time Sonny and I had been together. And what'd happened when his girlfriend caught us kissing.

  'Let's go into the living room,' I suggested. 'Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?'

  'No thanks. I'm fine.'

  I waited for Sonny to choose a seat so I could sit opposite, but he waited for me to do the same. I finally sat down in the armchair. I moved the cushion from behind me and hugged it to my stomach.

  'How are you?' I asked.

  'Fine.'

  'How's Sherona?'

  I had no doubt that Sherona was more than fine. A pit-bull had nothing on that woman. When she had caught me and Sonny together, I had thought she was going to rip my throat out. Not that I blamed her. There I'd stood in the dressing room with the zip of my dress undone and my dress half off and Sonny's arms wrapped round me. In Sherona's shoes I would've put two and two together and made plenty as well. Mind you, in Sherona's shoes I would've probably just walked away, closing the door behind me. Part of me admired her for wanting to tear my head off. She was a girl who fought for what she wanted. Me? I rolled over and played dead. I never used to be like that, when I was a teenager. But after Callie Rose was born, all the spark had seemed to desert me.

  Until recently.

  'Sherona's fine.'

  'I'm glad you two didn't break up because of me,' I said.

  'Are you?' asked Sonny pointedly.

  'Sonny, what d'you want me to say?' I asked.

  'Tell me why you took up with me in the first place? Propinquity? Expediency?'

  'You really believe I'm that shallow?'

  'I don't know,' Sonny admitted. 'After all these years, I still don't know you.'

  'How could you get to know me when I didn't know myself?'

  'What does that mean?'

  'It doesn't matter. I was just a bit lost for a while. A long while.'