'Nana Jasmine just phoned. She's having some friends round for lunch tomorrow and she wants me to go round in the morning and help her.'
'What happened to her cook and that other woman, her P.A.?'
'They're both away apparently,' I said.
'So are you going?'
'I guess so. She's not been too well, so she isn't all that strong at the moment. She said she asked Mum but Mum's busy. So that leaves me. I thought I'd hang out on her beach for a while, then head to her house.'
'Want some company?'
'Well, I'm not—'
'Don't say no. I want to see you tomorrow. Please?'
I surprised myself by saying, 'Yes, OK then. But only on the beach. And I can't stay long – I have to be somewhere else in the afternoon.'
'Fine with me. I'll meet you there then.'
'You'll have to go right round Nana Jasmine's house to get to the beach. You still remember the way?'
'Of course. See you tomorrow.'
He rang off. I wondered why I'd said yes. Did I really want to see him on my last day? My head told me no, but my heart knew my head was lying. It would be the last time I ever saw him and I wanted a fresh memory of the two of us together to take with me into the night. If I'd been asked which one out of Lucas or Tobey I'd want with me on my last day on Earth, I would've replied almost without thinking. How strange that when it got down to it, my heart's choice wasn't the same as my head's.
one hundred and nineteen.
Jasmine
Letter-writing has never been my forte, but no matter. Something tells me this letter will get all the attention it deserves. It's taken me long enough to write, but the tone as well as the information contained within had to be just right. He might be able to suppress the letter at one or two newspapers where he can call in favours, but surely not the whole lot? Of course, the beauty of a computer and a printer is the joy of typing once and then making lots of copies. I did think about emailing the letter to every news desk in the country that published an Internet address, but I'd probably make a mess of that. And emails can be too easily dismissed as being the work of cranks or hackers or malicious coders.
I am not a malicious coder.
I am a mean, malevolent ex-wife.
I'll make sure that if Kamal's lot do come to power, he will not be joining the party. The moment the contents of this letter become generally known, Kamal will be finished. He'll be out in the political wilderness, never to return.
Now I have a few other details to take care of before tomorrow morning. The first thing I need to do is have a heart to heart with Meggie McGregor. I need to find out where her son is and I'm going to need her help.
one hundred and twenty.
Callie is 15
I can't get to sleep. Not that I expected to be out like a light but this wide-awake feeling isn't pleasant. Two-thirty in the morning and sleep is just a memory. I'm never going to be able to drift off now. My mind won't wind down. I keep thinking about all the things I'm going to miss. Both my nanas and Lucas and Tobey and chocolate ice cream and the sea and sunrises and sunsets. And my mum. In spite of everything, I'm going to miss my mum. I think she's my major regret. I wish . . . I wish we could've had something different, something more. And now that'll never happen. But as Uncle Jude said, sometimes sacrifices have to be made.
And I'm so tired of all this.
So if I have to lie on my back and stare into the darkness until the morning comes, then so be it.
This time tomorrow, I'll be getting all the sleep I need.
Jude versus Jasmine
one hundred and twenty-one.
Jasmine
I can't do this for much longer. The pain is fiercely intense now, so bad that I want to throw my head back and howl like a wounded animal. I want to flop down onto the hotel bed and curl up into a ball. I want to press the switch and end my torment . . .
But I can't.
I promised Meggie as much.
I took two more painkillers out of my pocket and held them clutched tight in my free hand. I was ready to cram them into my mouth but I'd already given in and taken some earlier. Any more would definitely dull my reflexes and I couldn't afford to give Jude any quarter. One slip on my part and it'd be my last.
'Meggie, what d'you want me to do?' I asked quietly.
Maybe if I lowered the timbre of my voice, I could disguise just how truly vulnerable I was.
'I don't know, Jasmine. I wish I did, but I don't know anything,' Meggie replied. 'Except that I'm staying here.'
'Mum, no,' said Jude, urgently. 'You need to leave. I can take care of myself
'Meggie, you can't stay,' I told her, ignoring Jude. 'Sephy is locked in my cellar with Callie Rose. You have to let them out.'
Meggie regarded me with a sad smile.
'You knew I'd want to stay, didn't you?' she said softly.
'I suspected you might.' I nodded. 'You have to leave.'
'And if I say no?' asked Meggie.
'Then we all leave this room.'
'And if I say yes?'
'Then you leave this room alone.'
'I see.' Meggie turned back to her son. We all sat in silence for at least half a minute. 'Jude, tell me one thing worth dying for?'
'Lots of things are worth dying for, Mum,' said Jude, scathingly. 'The L.M., freedom, the cause . . . I know you haven't forgotten what they did to Dad and Callum.'
Meggie's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. 'Now tell me one thing worth living for,' she said.
Jude stared at her. He opened his mouth like a drowning fish. 'I—' Jude managed the one word before his mouth snapped shut.
Meggie nodded sadly. 'That's what I thought. You deliberately went after Callie Rose to turn her against Sephy, and please don't insult my intelligence by denying it.'
'I wasn't going to,' he said.
'That's the first honest thing you've said to me in years,' Meggie told him. 'Jude, tell me the truth, did you murder Cara Imega?'
Jude sat back and regarded his mum, his eyes dark and cold as the bottom of the ocean. 'So we're back to that again? You've already made up your mind, Mum, so why bother asking?'
'I need to hear it, Jude. Did you murder that girl?'
'I didn't murder anyone, Mum,' Jude said with a calculated smile. 'Murder implies I unlawfully took the life of another person. All I did was kill a Cross.'
My gasp of horror was lost beneath Meggie's. The tears she could no longer hold back slid mournfully down her cheeks. Poor Meggie. My heart wept for her. There but for the grace of God went Minerva or Sephy or even me. What must've happened to Jude to make him hate all of us so much? I, in my complacency, was probably part of the problem. I cringed to remember how, a lifetime ago, I'd told Sarah, my personal assistant, to fire Meggie because she hadn't provided me with the alibi I'd needed. Was that when all this began with Jude? If I hadn't fired her, would we all be sitting here now? The hatred Jude had inside was far worse than the cancer eating me up. For him there was no hope, no reprieve, no remission. No act of degradation or violence would ever be enough for him. His hatred fed on itself and the more it devoured him, the more it wanted. And Jude had never seen that. Or maybe he just didn't care.
My heart wept for him.
My heart wept for all of us.
'This bomb you gave to Callie Rose, who was it for?' I asked.
Jude turned contemptuous eyes on me. 'I didn't give Callie a bomb, she made it.'
'Who was it for?'
'As you're wearing the thing, I'd say that was academic,' said Jude.
'It was for Kamal Hadley, wasn't it?' I said. 'You wanted to make a martyr out of my ex-husband.'
Jude turned away from me. He wasn't going to deign to throw another word in my direction. No matter. I could guess.
Jude was a fool. He wanted to deify my husband and his particular brand of noxious politics. What did Jude think would happen if Kamal was murdered by the L.M.? Ah, but it wouldn't be the L.M., would it? It'd be
at the hand of his own granddaughter. And what kind of statement would that make?
Meggie stood up wearily. 'Jude, I want you to know something. I want you to remember this. I love you very, very much.'
Jude didn't reply. He didn't know how. Meggie bent down to kiss her son on his cheek, before straightening up. Turning to face me she said, 'I'm leaving. Alone. I'm saying yes.'
She headed for the door.
'Meggie,' I called after her without looking away from her son. 'Tell Sephy and Callie Rose . . . explain this to them. And tell them I love them very much.'
The door of the room opened. Moments later it clicked shut with a symbolic finality.
Jude and I were alone again.
one hundred and twenty-two.
Jude
Mum left me. She's really left. She's more or less given Mad-Bitch Hadley her blessing.
Mum . . .
Well, I don't need her. I don't need anyone. Jude's number one law will get me through this: Never, ever allow yourself to feel. Feelings kill. I came into this world alone, travelled through it alone and that's the way I'll go out. But not today. I'm not ready to go yet. I still have things to do.
Get to your knife, Jude. It's now or never.
I was just reaching down for it, under cover of scratching my leg again, when the sound of the fire alarm made me jump. Damn! I'd been so close. And now the hotel was on fire – with a little luck. 'Cause that meant the fire brigade would be here soon, and they'd go from room to room . . . We sat in silence as the alarm warbled on and on, its high-pitched whine continuous and piercing. Doors further down the corridor opened and slammed. There were shouts and cries and the sound of footsteps running. But soon those noises died away. And throughout the whole thing, Jasmine sat perfectly still and never moved.
'We have to get out of here,' I told the mad bitch. 'Unless you fancy burning to death.'
Jasmine sighed and stood up. 'There's no fire, Jude. Your mum set off the fire alarm to get everyone out of the hotel.'
I stared at her. My mum had done that?
'We arranged it all last night and this morning,' Jasmine told me. 'We agreed that if she left this room by herself, if she said yes to what I planned to do, she'd set off the fire alarm to evacuate the hotel. I'm not a murderer. I don't intend to kill anyone but you.'
'Isn't this murder?'
'No, it's putting you out of my family's misery.'
'No, wait. Stop. You mean, Mum could've saved me?' I asked.
'If she'd stayed.' Jasmine nodded. 'All she had to do was say no. There's no way I would set this thing off with Meggie in the room. She knew that. Besides, how would my daughter and granddaughter get out of my cellar if she stayed?'
'I don't understand.'
Jasmine smiled. 'You don't have to. Any last words, Jude?'
Any last words? Did she think this was the end of some war movie? Last words? How about – I'll see you in hell? They were fine, final words.
Jasmine didn't take her eyes off me as she said, 'May God forgive me but this is for my daughter, Sephy, and your brother, Callum, and their child, Callie Rose.'
Jasmine took a step towards me. That's when I knew my last moments on this sorry earth had come. Jude's law number fifteen sang in my head: If Heaven is full of Crosses, I'd rather live in Hell. And there was one person in my head. Only one. Not Mum or Dad. Not Lynette. Not even Callum. The very last person I expected.
Cara . . .
I started to laugh. Louder and deeper than I'd ever laughed before.
CARA . . .
I raised my eyes to heaven. Cara, I know you're watching. Come and take my hand and lead me down to—
one hundred and
twenty-three.
Meggie
God, forgive me. Please God, forgive me.
I want to turn round and run back to the hotel. I want to . . . I want to run into that hotel room and scream STOP . . . I don't want this. He's my son. My one remaining child. Don't force me to give him up. I love him so much. Please don't take him from me.
I can't do this. I have to go back to the hotel.
But I can't.
After walking so far, so fast just to get away, I can't take another step. I'm standing on this pavement, frozen to the spot, unwilling to go forwards. Unable to go back.
Jude, forgive me . . .
No, I can't do this. I have to stop Jasmine – if it's not too late. Turn round, Meggie.
But what about my granddaughter? Callie Rose is the future. And how can she exist with Jude's hatred poisoning her every breath? I know he's told her things, shown her things that no one should ever see, never mind a child like Callie. He's been doing it for years.
I just couldn't see it, didn't want to see it.
Jude wants to fill up the whole world with the pain he feels. He could've let it go. He had that choice. I wish, oh how I wish I could turn back the hands of time. I'd hug Jude to me and stroke his hair the way I used to and I'd say the words I was never able to say except in my heart.
Jude, I love you. I'll never leave you. I'll always be here for you.
But how can that be true? I left him in that hotel room with Jasmine, knowing what she plans to do. Why am I being forced to choose between my son and my granddaughter? I can't make that decision, I just can't.
Turn to the past.
Turn to the future.
Which way?
Jude needs me. So does Callie Rose. It's not too late for Callie Rose. She's young. I can show her what I was never able to show my son. I thought I had to be tough because Jude was going to have it tough, a nought boy in a Cross world. I thought I was preparing him for what was ahead. But I know better now. So I'll tell Callie Rose I love her every day, every hour. I'll hug her and hold her and love her. She needs me. It's not too late to show Callie Rose that love is real, that love exists. And with love inside, nothing is impossible. I'll help Callie Rose and her mum come together again. I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.
Oh, Jude . . .
It's not too late for Callie Rose.
It is too late for my son. He breathes in bitterness and breathes out hatred. He has no faith in the future, so he has no stake in the future. He doesn't believe things will get better. He has no trust. He has no hope.
But he's still my son.
Walk forward, Meggie. One step at a time. But it's so hard, and it hurts so much.
'Are you all right, love?'
The words lift my head. I have to blink several times before I can see the face of the man who spoke. An elderly nought man selling newspapers looks at me with concern. His hair is more grey than brown, but his eyebrows are still dark.
'Are you OK? Is something wrong?' the man asks.
I open my mouth, but there are no words.
'Look, d'you want to sit down for a moment?'
I can hear sirens screaming around me. Two, then three police cars race past. And they're all going in the direction of the Isis Hotel.
'I wonder what that's about?' the nought vendor says softly as we both watch the police cars turn the corner.
Jasmine hasn't done it. Not yet. Surely not yet? Not so soon. An ambulance flashes by. Jasmine couldn't've done it yet. I hadn't heard anything. No flash, no blast, no boom. There's traffic all around me and a pneumatic drill sounds further up the road. I can hear car horns and people shouting, laughing, talking – but no explosion. I would've heard it, wouldn't I? Surely, I'm not so far away yet that I wouldn't've heard something? Something I know I tried to shut my ears and close my heart to, as I left the hotel. But thoughts and fears and sorrow and tears don't drown out the sound of something like that, do they? I look up at the sky. Where's the rain? I heard a single clap of thunder before, but there's no rain. Shouldn't there be rain? Maybe the noise scared Jasmine into changing her mind? Maybe Jude managed to stop her, to persuade her not to . . . ?
Jasmine couldn't've done it yet . . .
Please, God . . .
'It's all go to
day, love, isn't it?' smiles the vendor. 'Mind you, it's a good day for us, isn't it?'
I don't understand. The vendor's grin broadens. He holds up the first edition of the evening paper. I look at the headline: KAMAL HADLEY IS OUT!
'Stitched him up nicely. Hell has no fury
I still didn't understand.
'His ex-wife!' the vendor explains. 'Jasmine Hadley sent out a letter plus proof positive that Kamal Hadley took back-handers, made dodgy deals to get into power, did favours, even interfered to make sure a couple of his political mates didn't come to trial for fraud when they should've done. So he's stepped down. He says it's because he doesn't want his party to suffer before tomorrow's election, but I reckon it's too late. There's no way his party will win now. Thank goodness.'
Only the previous evening, all the news reports had Kamal's party ahead in the opinion polls. It was almost a foregone conclusion that Sephy's dad was going to be the next Prime Minister. But not any more.
And Jasmine had done that?
Another ambulance roared past.
The vendor smiled at me. 'Cheer up, love. It might never happen!'
I nodded, unable to smile back, but so grateful for his kindness.
Walk, Meggie. Just keep walking.
Callie Rose needs you.
And so will Sephy.
Callie Rose and Sephy
one hundred and
twenty-four.
Callie Rose
Were we never going to get out of this ruddy cellar? My bladder was beginning to say hello! I glanced down at my watch. It was almost four in the afternoon. Grandad Kamal was long gone from his house by now. Not that I cared about him. I still had so many questions for Mum. Nana Jasmine was right. There were things that only she could answer.
'Mum, were you and Dad . . . lovers before you were kidnapped?'
'No, love. That night in the cabin was our one and only time together.'
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