Knife Edge

by Malorie Blackman

  'Why're you here, Mum?' I asked, deliberately calling her Mum because I knew she preferred Mother. But she didn't have a go. She just smiled.

  'I wanted to see you and my granddaughter,' she said. 'And if I'd known where you were living, I'd've been round to see you a lot sooner.'

  'You saw the newspaper announcement?'

  'Knowing you, wasn't that the whole idea?' asked Mother.

  'As I told Minerva, Callie and I were meant to be out of here by the time they ran it.'

  'Then I thank the heavens that you weren't,' smiled Mother.

  I looked at her then, really looked at her. 'So how come you didn't come to visit before now.'

  'I wasn't sure of my welcome. But Minerva seemed to think you wouldn't have me thrown out,' said Mother.

  'I'd never do that,' I said.

  'I wouldn't blame you if you did,' Mother shrugged. 'So when d'you come out?'

  'It was meant to be today but they're keeping us in for one more night.'

  'And what're your plans?' asked Mother.

  'To live each day minute by minute. I don't have any other plans,' I told her.

  Not any more.

  'Minute by minute doesn't work with a baby. You need to plan ahead, for your daughter's sake.'

  'And how old can she be before I stop caring like you did?' I asked with venom.

  'Sephy, I know I wasn't there for you when you needed me most, but I want to make up for it now – if you'll let me.'

  I didn't reply.

  Mother sighed. 'I was a politician's wife, Sephy. Public duties often had to come before everything else – including you and Minerva. And including my own wants and needs. Your father expected nothing less.'

  I shrugged. Mother wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know.

  Silence. 'D'you still blame me for Callum's death?' Mother asked.

  I looked away from Mother when she asked that. Her repeated sigh told me that she thought I'd answered her question. But the truthful answer was . . . no.

  'Sephy, the past is over and it's time for all of us to let it go. We have to do what's right for your daughter now,' said Mother.

  We . . .

  'And that is?' I tensed up, waiting to hear her talk about adoption or fostering or farming out my baby to anyone who'd take her.

  'I think it would be best for you and Callie Rose if you both came back home with me,' said Mother carefully.

  I started to laugh – I couldn't help it. 'You must be joking, Mother.'

  'Why not?' Mother asked quietly.

  'Because we can't turn the clock back. We've both said too much and been through too much . . .'

  'I'm not suggesting we turn the clock back,' said Mother. 'What I want is for the three of us to move forward from here and now.'

  'Just like that?'

  'Just like that,' said Mother.

  'It's that simple?'

  'It is if you let it be. Sephy, you've always been one to do things the hard way. This is easy,' said Mother. 'Come home. You and Callie Rose will be more than welcome.'

  'Really?'

  'Yes. I want you home with me more than anything else in the world. I want us to be friends again. And I want to help with Callie.' When I tried to interrupt, Mother rushed on. 'I won't try to take over – and I'll respect the fact that you're Callie's mother, not me. But I want to be a part of your life again, Sephy. And I want to be part of my granddaughter's life as well.'

  Mother and I regarded each other. How I longed to be welcome – anywhere. And I could see that Mother meant every word. We'd both said some hateful, hurtful things over the last few months but I was tired. Was I too tired to even hate her any more? What should I do, Callum? Moving in with Mother would be so easy. And Callie and I would be safe in Mother's house. Jude wouldn't be able to get near us. But more importantly than that, I wouldn't be alone with a new baby. I wouldn't have to cope on my own and Mother would be there to back me up. To draw a line under the past and move forward . . . I longed to be able to do just that. Maybe moving back in with Mother was the first step. With a start, I realized I was already trying to talk myself into it.

  'I still think about Callum a lot,' I warned her.

  'I wouldn't expect anything less,' said Mother. 'He was your first love and the father of your child. That counts for an awful lot.'

  'It's a shame you didn't see it that way a few months ago when you were trying to force me to have an abortion.' I couldn't hide the bitterness that crept into my voice.

  'Yes, it is,' Mother surprised me by agreeing sombrely. 'And I'll regret that to my dying day. But please let me make it up to you, both of you.'

  It was so much to forgive and forget. Maybe too much?

  'Can I think about it?' I asked at last.

  'That means no,' said Mother sadly.

  'No. It means I'd like us to be friends again but I've rushed into so many bad decisions recently, I just need to think about it a bit more,' I said.

  'Sephy, your daughter needs a stable, steady home,' said Mother, using my daughter against me.

  'Are you still drinking – even a little bit?' I asked.

  Mother stiffened at the question, but no way was I going to trust her with my daughter if she was still drinking.

  'I haven't drunk anything stronger than orange juice since the day Callum was . . . killed,' Mother informed me.

  'How come?'

  At first I thought Mother wasn't going to answer, but at last she said, 'Because I didn't just lose the son of one of my best friends that day. I lost my daughter as well.'

  No denials. No arguments. No words.

  'Come home, Sephy. Please,' Mother said softly. 'I promise you things will be different.'

  'OK,' I nodded.

  'What?'

  For the first time in living memory, Mother forgot her manners! No 'Pardon?', no 'Excuse me?' – just 'What?'! I laughed.

  'I said, OK!' I repeated. 'I'll come home with you.'

  'You will?' Mother's face lit up like a lighthouse. She looked so happy. Joyously happy. And I'd done that. Seeing her so happy made my mood lighter as well. I'd be lying if I said I was entirely convinced about the wisdom of what I was doing. Was I just taking the easy way out? What about all my big talk about standing on my own two feet and never asking anyone in my family for anything again? But I had someone else to consider now as well as myself. And at least, good or bad, I'd made a decision. Maybe the future didn't have to be quite so daunting after all.

  'I'll go home now and get your room ready. And I'll have the study converted into a nursery. D'you want Callie Rose to sleep in the same room as you for the time being? I don't mind having her in my room and feeding her through the night if you want a good night's sleep. Goodness, I have so much to do . . .'

  'Mother, slow down,' I told her. 'I don't want any fuss. And please don't do anything to the study. Callie will sleep in my room until she's a lot older and then maybe we can decorate one of the spare bedrooms for her.'

  'Fair enough. I guess I am getting a little ahead of myself,' Mother laughed.

  'Just a bit,' I agreed.

  Mother placed my daughter very carefully into my outstretched arms.

  'Sephy, it'll be so good to have you home.' Mother kissed me on the cheek, something she hadn't done in years.

  'It'll be good to be home, Mother,' I replied.

  But somewhere inside, a flicker of lingering doubt still remained. Was this the right decision? Or just another of my hasty, bad ones?

  I'd know soon enough.

  twenty-one. Jude

  I lay in bed this morning going over and over in my mind the events of the night before with Cara. I was still trying to understand what had happened. By which I mean, nothing happened. We ate dinner, we listened to music, and we talked. And laughed. And talked some more. And that was it. And through it all, I tried not to look into her eyes for too long. I tried not to laugh too hard at her awful jokes. I tried not to relax or smile too long at the good music pla
ying. I tried not to touch her any more than I had to.

  But I failed.

  We ate and chatted and I told myself I'd wait half an hour before making my excuses to leave. Almost three hours later, Cara walked me to the door and then we stood in an awkward silence as she waited for me to make the next move.

  An offer of another date? A kiss? What?

  I turned to her and said, 'Thank you for a lovely evening. I've really enjoyed myself.'

  'So have I,' said Cara.

  Pause.

  'I hope we can do it again some time,' Cara continued.

  'I hope so too,' I replied. 'Well, I'd better get going.'

  I opened the front door and stepped out into the night. Truth be told, I couldn't wait to get out of there. The whole evening had been an uncomfortable mistake – because I'd enjoyed it too much. There I was chatting and eating and laughing with a Cross. As I walked away from her front door, I had to remind myself exactly why I was with her. I told myself that the end would justify the means. If I had to make love to a dagger to get the money I needed to further our cause, then I'd have to bite the bullet and do it. She was just a dagger woman – and all daggers deserved what they got. I'd get money and anything else I could from her and then cut her loose. And I needed to do it fast.

  How ironic then that my evening with Cara had been the best I'd spent in a long, long time. It'd been relaxing and pleasant and only served to reinforce all the things I'd missed – not just for months but for years. There was a stillness about Cara that allowed me to be still too. A calmness around her that forced me to relax. But I wasn't going to let my guard down. Not for Cara. Not for anyone.

  That would be fatal. Not just physically but mentally – which would be worse.

  All of Jude's laws from one to six applied in this case – but especially number one.

  Never ever allow yourself to feel. Feelings kill.

  twenty-two. Sephy

  Darling Callie,

  We're going home. Tomorrow morning. A firm date at last. Yesterday they said I could go home today but it now looks like it'll definitely be tomorrow. We're going home. At last we're getting out of here. And whilst part of me is looking forward to getting away from this hospital, another part of me is so terrified I'm going to mess up. I know Mother will be there but ultimately it'll be down to me. My daughter, my responsibility. Callie, I look down at you, asleep in my arms, and I still can't believe you're mine.

  My daughter.

  I'm still so young and I have a daughter. I look at you and it scares me how little I know. About anything. I raise my arms slowly, the better to smell you. You smell so fresh and new. I never get tired of the way you smell. I stroke your cheek and it's as soft as a whisper. That's how I spent my time today, Callie. Gazing at you for countless minutes, drinking you in, until I realized that I was being watched. I looked up and jumped when I saw who was standing at the foot of my bed.

  Meggie McGregor. Callum's mum.

  I couldn't've been more shocked if she'd marched up to me and slapped me round the face with a frozen kipper. My mouth gaped open as I continued to stare at her.

  'Hello, Sephy,' Meggie said quietly.

  'Hello . . . Mrs McGregor,' I said.

  I used to call her Meggie, but that was before I realized I had absolutely no right to do so.

  'How are you?'

  'Fine.'

  What was she doing here? I hadn't seen her since before Callum died. What did she want? Had she come to spit in my eye over the death of her son? I wouldn't blame her if she hated me as much as Jude did. That bloody ad in the paper. Another one of my so-called brilliant ideas that'd turned round and bitten me on the bum. My rear end was blood-raw from my so-called brilliant ideas rebounding on me. I glanced down the ward to the nurses' station. If Meggie had come to hurt me or my baby, would I have time to shout for help? Would they have time to run to my assistance? I clutched Callie closer to me. No one, not Meggie, not Jude, not my father, no one was ever going to hurt my child.

  'May I sit down?' Meggie asked.

  I nodded warily. Meggie sat in the chair at the side of my bed.

  'Can I hold her?' Meggie asked, smiling at my baby.

  I eyed her uncertainly. 'Mrs McGregor, I—'

  'My name's Meggie. And that's my granddaughter,' Meggie told me. 'I love her already.'

  I still wasn't sure, but something about the look in her eyes made me believe her. Slowly I handed over my baby. Meggie's eyes lit up as she settled Callie into her arms. I recognized the expression on her face. It was the same one my mother had worn when she first held her granddaughter. And then I knew that Meggie was telling the truth. She really did love Callie already. Very much.

  'Her eyes are blue,' Meggie said surprised.

  'All babies' eyes are blue,' I told her.

  'But I thought that Cross babies' eyes turned brown within a few hours or days. You've been in hospital quite a while now,' said Meggie.

  I shrugged.

  'She's very beautiful,' smiled Meggie, her eyes on her granddaughter.

  'I think so,' I said.

  Only then did Meggie look at me. 'Thank you for calling her Callie.'

  I shrugged, remembering how Callum hadn't wanted me to. Rose had been his idea. Callie had been mine.

  'Callie Rose suits her,' Meggie smiled.

  We were talking about nothing, both of us too afraid to say what was really on our minds. I took a deep breath, gathered up my courage and went for it.

  'Mrs . . . Meggie, do you blame me for Callum's death?' I asked.

  Meggie looked at me and shook her head. 'No. I never blamed you for what happened to my son.'

  'Why not? Jude does.'

  'Jude still hasn't found what he's looking for,' sighed Meggie.

  'And what's that?'

  'I don't think even Jude knows that. But until he can make sense of his own life, he'll blame you and every other Cross for everything that's wrong in it,' said Meggie.

  'And you don't?'

  'No.'

  How wonderful it would be to believe that – even for a moment. With a sigh, I settled back against my pillows.

  'Besides, I think you're probably blaming yourself enough for the both of us,' said Meggie.

  'You know me so well.' I smiled without humour.

  'I should do, Miss Sephy. I brought you up, didn't I?'

  Which was no less than the truth.

  'Please don't call me Miss Sephy,' I asked. 'Just Sephy will do.'

  Miss Sephy . . . I wondered if she hated calling me that as much as I hated to hear it. It was almost like a member of my own family calling me Miss Sephy. Funny, but when I think of my early childhood, I remember my nanny, Meggie, being there more often than my own mother. Meggie and Callum were my closest friends – until the day Meggie left our house with Callum and hadn't been invited back. After that it was just Callum and me, Meggie and my mother had been so close, but it'd changed in a moment. Funny how life pivoted on single moments, single choices.

  'So when d'you think you'll go home?' asked Meggie.

  'They've said I can definitely go home tomorrow morning,' I told her.

  She looked at me. 'Are you still in your flat?'

  'Yes.' I frowned. 'How did you know about that?'

  'A friend told me.'

  A friend . . ? Jude?

  'No, not Jude,' said Meggie, reading my mind. 'I haven't seen him . . . to speak to since before Callum died.'

  Did I believe her? I had no reason not to.

  'I've got a suggestion,' said Meggie.

  'What's that?'

  'You could move in with me.'

  'Sorry?' I was sure that I must've misheard her.

  'If you don't like the idea of being alone in a flat, I thought perhaps you could move in with me,' said Meggie. 'I could help you and Callie Rose. I wouldn't try and take over. I just want to help.'

  'Oh, but Mother's already—'

  'It's common knowledge how your mother feels about you
and Callie Rose. But that's not how I feel,' Meggie interrupted. 'Just hear me out. I've thought and thought about this and as we're both alone now, I thought it'd be the ideal solution.'

  My heart began to pound inside me – long, loud thuds mocking every breath I took.

  'But what about your sister? Aren't you living with her now? I'm sure she won't want me and a baby under her feet,' I said.

  Tell her. You 're going to move back home with Mother. Tell her.

  'I live in my own place now,' said Meggie. 'It's not big or fancy but it's home. And you're welcome to share it with me.'

  'Why . . . why d'you want to do this?' I asked, bewildered.

  'You and Callie are all the family I've got left,' said Meggie.

  Just a few words but they echoed with such longing and loneliness that my eyes instantly began to sting. I looked from Callie to Meggie and back again.

  'And I'm sure it's what Callum would've wanted,' said Meggie, playing her ace. 'For us to live together as a family.'

  My face felt like it was going to crack. But what could I do? I wanted to go home to Mother. I'd set my heart on that.

  But Meggie needed us.

  So did Mother.

  I groaned inwardly. No matter what I decided, I'd end up hurting someone.

  All the family I've got left . . .

  The simple truth was that Meggie needed Callie and me more than Mother did. And I owed her.

  'Please, Sephy?'

  'Are you sure you won't mind being kept awake by a crying baby and having a house smelling of dirty nappies?'

  'I'd love it,' Meggie grinned.

  'Then I guess you've got two lodgers,' I replied. 'But only on one condition.'

  'What's that?'

  'You let me pay rent and half of all the bills.'

  Meggie looked like she was about argue, but she regarded me and changed her mind. 'OK. That's all settled then.' She handed Callie back to me. 'Thank you, Sephy. I'll come and pick you up first thing tomorrow morning.' Meggie beamed at me. 'Having you and my granddaughter in the house will give me a reason for getting up in the mornings again.'