I shook my head. 'No, it doesn't. And that's the point.'
thirty. Jude
She's still in hospital. She's still unconscious. Cara Imega. She cared about me. She cared about all the things I said, and all the things I didn't say. She cared about what I showed on the outside and what was hidden on the inside. If is such a big word, If she was a nought or I was a Cross . . . If we lived in a different world . . . If I didn't hate Crosses so much . . .
I've kept the picture of her that was in the newspapers the day after she was found. Just a souvenir. It doesn't mean anything. I could throw it away any time if I wanted to. It's just that I'd never seen that photo of her before. She looked like she was almost praying. I wonder what she was thinking when that photo was taken. It was a good photo, a good likeness. She was just like that really.
Calm.
Quiet.
I cashed her cheques in a number of different banks around the city. All on the same day before her bank could put a block on them. Some I made out to cash. Some I had paid into a holding account and as soon as the cheques cleared, I withdrew the money. She was in hospital, not dead, so the banks had no reason not to clear them. And I was careful to backdate them. She'd signed one cheque so it was easy enough to forge her name on the others. And she had quite a bit of cash in that drawer as well. By the end of the week, I was several thousand pounds better off.
I should've been better off all round.
Except that it won't stop raining.
Especially at night when I'm alone again and lonely again and there's not a cloud in the sky.
And deep inside, it feels like I'm never going to see the sun again.
thirty-one. Sephy
'Sephy, when're we going to talk about this?'
'About what?' I asked Meggie.
She frowned at me. 'Sephy, that letter was a he. Callum loved you. You shouldn't need me to tell you that.'
'So Callum didn't write that letter?'
'It looked like his writing,' Meggie conceded. 'But if he really wrote that then he was forced to write it or there was some other reason we haven't figured out yet.'
I tilted my head as I looked at Meggie. Did she really believe any of the crap she was coming out with? Forced to write it! What next?
'Sephy, Callum loved you. And if you never believe anything else in this life, you should believe that,' Meggie persisted.
But I hardly heard her. Now that she knew there was nothing between Callum and me except lies, maybe she'd changed her mind about us living with her.
'Would you like Rose and me to move out? I could go to Mother's,' I added, so that she needn't worry that I'd end up on the street.
'No, of course not,' said Meggie. 'This is your home for as long as you want.'
I shrugged, telling myself I wasn't bothered one way or the other.
'Sephy, did you love my son?'
'Of course I did. I wouldn't've let him touch me otherwise.' The words came from my heart rather than my head and I cursed silently as soon as I said them. My cheeks were on fire. I looked away from Meggie, unwilling to look at her after revealing something so intimate.
'Then why're you so desperate to believe that he meant what's in that letter?' Meggie asked.
Desperate to believe it? Everything I was and everything I had, clung to the prayer that he hadn't written it, but it did no good.
'Because Callum did write it,' I told her, anguished. Why couldn't she understand that? 'Callum wrote that hateful, hurtful letter – and he did it deliberately. And can you honestly say, hand on heart, that he didn't mean every word?'
Meggie opened her mouth to argue.
'You don't know what he was thinking when he wrote it,' I interrupted. 'He was in prison and about to hang. It's only natural that he would blame me. That he would hate me.'
'Callum wouldn't do that,' said Meggie. 'You've got so used to blaming yourself for what happened to my son that you can't believe everyone else isn't doing the same thing.'
'Sometimes . . . sometimes I think I've got it wrong. That Callum really did . . . love me. And then I read his letter again . . .'
'Then stop reading it and tear the damned thing up,' Meggie insisted. 'Or give it to me and I'll do it.'
This was getting us nowhere.
'It's time for Rose's feed,' I said, standing up.
I really didn't want to listen any more. And I had no intention of arguing with her. Besides, I had to save my voice for my gig later that evening. As I went upstairs, I forced myself to concentrate on the forthcoming gig and nothing else. Which wasn't the best thing for my mood, to be honest. The gig was still a couple of hours away and I was already feeling almost physically sick with nerves. I was actually going to do it. I was going to stand up and sing in front of a club filled with strangers. Mind you, none of them knew me so if I was ruddy awful at least I'd never have to see any of them again. Funny, but if it was a choice between singing in front of hostile strangers or reading Callum's letter again, I knew which one I'd rather do. I'd been in my room less than a minute when Meggie knocked at my door. With a sigh I opened it.
'D'you want me to get you something to eat before you go out?' asked Meggie.
I shook my head. We both knew that wasn't the reason she'd knocked on my door.
'Sephy, will you please give me the letter?' said Meggie. 'The longer you keep it, the more damage it will do. You'll start to believe it. . .'
'Meggie, I already believe it,' I told her silkily. 'I was stupid to believe anything else.'
'Don't you have any faith in my son at all?' asked Meggie.
I considered. 'I had faith in a lot of things. Faith in my family. Faith that God wouldn't let Callum die. Faith that Callum loved me. Faith in love. Now I know better. Now I know there's no such thing.'
Meggie and I regarded each other. Then Meggie shook her head and walked away.
I shut the door behind her.
thirty-two. Jude
'Fancy some company?'
I looked up from the beer I'd been nursing for at least an hour. A woman with shoulder-length light-brown braided hair and pale blue eyes was smiling at me. She wore a navy-blue T-shirt with white handprints over her boobs and denim jeans. Was she a skank? I couldn't be sure.
'What?'
'Fancy some company?'
The automatic shake of my head turned into a nod.
'You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders,' the woman said as she sat opposite me.
I shrugged, wondering why I'd agreed to company when all I wanted was to be left alone. I took another sip of my beer.
'My name's Eva,' she told me.
'I'm . . . Jude,' I told her.
The pause before saying my name had her smiling dubiously.
'Hello . . . Jude,' she said formally. I knew from her tone that she didn't believe for a moment that Jude was my real name. How ironic! 'So what d'you do . . . Jude?'
She was getting on my nerves already. 'I'm a painter and decorator.'
'Really? D'you work on a building site or for yourself or what?'
'I go where the work takes me.' I shrugged again. 'What d'you do?'
'I'm a nurse,' Eva said.
I looked at her then. Really looked at her. She didn't look like a nurse. She didn't look like anything much.
'Look, d'you want to get out of here?' I asked.
'Pardon?'
'D'you want to leave? Go somewhere else? Do something else?' I asked.
Where'd that come from? This sudden urge to get out of my body, to get out of my head?
Pause. 'OK then,' said Eva after a quick assessment.
I put down my warm beer and stood up. Eva stood up too. I put out my hand. Would she take it? She didn't have to. She looked straight at me as the seconds ticked by. Then she put her hand in mine.
'D'you have somewhere we can go?' I asked.
I knew what I needed and Eva would do as well as any other woman.
'Whoa there! D'you wan
na slow down a bit?' said Eva.
'I want to be with you tonight,' I told her. 'If that's not what you want then say so now.'
'And you can't ask me any better than that?' Eva frowned.
'I don't feel like playing games,' I said.
'But you don't know anything about me,' said Eva in a typical girly fashion.
'But I know I'd like to,' I lied. 'And I need to be with someone tonight.'
'Have you just split up from your girlfriend or something?' asked Eva.
'Or something,' I agreed.
Eva regarded me long and hard. This was where I either got my face slapped or I pulled.
'Can I see your hands?' Eva asked.
Frowning I held them out. She turned them round so that my palms were facing upwards, and studied them intently.
'What're you doing?' I asked.
'Eyes and words can He but hands never do. I'm into palmistry,' Eva explained.
I almost groaned out loud. Horoscopes and palmistry and runes and all that other bollocks left me cold. Usually when a girl started spouting on with that nonsense, I ran in the opposite direction. One of the few things Callum and I had in common. What a turn-off! But I looked at Eva and decided that beggars couldn't be choosers.
'You have a very prominent love line. You feel things very deeply. You love for ever and hate for ever. You have good hands. Strong hands,' Eva told me.
The image of Cara cowering before my hands flashed unbidden and unwelcome in my mind.
'D'you have somewhere we can go?' Only intense restraint kept the impatience out of my voice. What a ridiculous conversation. At least Cara and I had had real discussions – not like this nonsense.
'We can go back to my place,' Eva whispered.
No slapped face. I'd pulled.
We walked back to her place arm in arm.
'It's a shame you don't have a car,' she told me. 'These shoes are killing my feet.'
'Why wear them then?' I asked.
'They look good,' Eva told me.
I mean, how stupid can you get? Cara wouldn't wear shoes just because they looked good, but then Cara had more sense. Cara . . . The direction in which my thoughts were taking me made me start.
'What is it?' Eva asked.
'Nothing,' I dismissed. 'Someone just walked over my grave, that's all.'
Eva laughed. I didn't.
'So d'you have any brothers or sisters?' asked Eva.
'No, I'm an only child.'
'Do you live around here?'
'About an hour away.' I sighed inwardly. What made her think that by asking me a few questions, she'd get to know me better? A few questions and she could tell herself we had some kind of relationship before we crawled into bed together. How pathetic was that? Throughout our walk, she asked me questions and I batted back so-called answers. I smiled into her eyes and laughed at her jokes as she held onto my arm and I held onto hers. When she finally drifted into silence, I knew we were close to her flat and she was beginning to rethink the wisdom of what she was doing. I could feel she was close to bottling out. Time to pour out the charm.
'You're very beautiful,' I whispered to her. 'I thought that the first time I saw you.'
And I bent my head and kissed her. Slowly her arms snaked around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her body. Not too tight, but not too loose either. I made it seem like I didn't want to crush her but I was loath to let her go. The girls like that one and it works every time. Jude's law number twelve: The key to a girl's heart is through her vanity.
Except with Cara.
When we both finally came up for air, Eva beamed at me, reassured.
'Here we are,' she said, almost immediately.
We stood before a seedy, rundown block of flats. A couple of old jalopies sat in designated parking bays around us. The majority of windows facing us were lit. I knew they'd be lit whether or not the flats were occupied. Unlit flats were an invitation to burglars as they signalled that the owner might be out.
'This is me,' said Eva. 'I'm up on the third floor.'
And she led the way. I watched her, wondering what the hell I was doing? Now it was my turn to have doubts. But it was simple. I needed some company. I followed her into the block. We turned the corner and headed up some stairs. The walls were covered in graffiti and the whole place stank of pee. But it was nothing I wasn't used to.
'No point in trying the lift,' Eva shrugged. 'It never works. And when it does, it's always covered in puke and worse.'
'The stairs are fine,' I told her.
On the third floor we went along a walkway with a waist-high wall on one side and a number of evenly spaced doors on the other. We stopped outside a dark-green door lit by a single bulb above it on the walkway.
'Well, this is me,' Eva said again as she fiddled with her key in the door.
Not much I could say to that so I didn't bother trying. She unlocked the door and we went inside. The door opened into a small hallway, with doors off the right side of it only. Eva led the way into the first room on the right, the living room. The walls were painted cream with a couple of cheap posters put up to try and cover the cracks and damp patches on the walls. A grey and red, ill-fitting, threadbare carpet covered most of the floor.
'Would you like something to drink?' Eva asked, unable to hide the nervousness in her voice.
'No,' I said. I walked over to her and kissed her again. Part of me wanted to have sex with her but part of me was sorry I'd come to her flat. I just wanted to get this over and done with. So I kissed her like a drowning man who'd just been thrown a life ring.
The strange thing was, that's exactly how she kissed me as well. With the same kind of panicked desperation. I started to pull her T-shirt over her head.
'Let's go to the bedroom,' Eva broke away to whisper.
'What's wrong with right here?' I asked, looking pointedly at the sofa.
'The bedroom,' Eva insisted.
I let her take my hand and lead me out of the room and further down the hallway. We passed two closed doors and an open door leading to a small bathroom, to reach the last door down the hall. Eva went in first but waited until I was inside before shutting the door behind me. This room was smaller than the living room. A double bed filled three-quarters of the space. The walls were light blue, but not light enough. The wooden floor was painted matt white. The whole room felt enclosed and cold. A railing with clothes on it was pushed against the far wall. Eva went over to the dark-blue curtains and closed them. She came back to me with a smile and we started kissing again.
Less than five minutes later we were both lying on the bed, naked. I closed my eyes. I couldn't stop kissing her and touching her and stroking her. I was burning up for her. I kissed her shoulders and her neck and her ears, whispering the meaningless words that girls like to hear. Until she suddenly froze beside me.
'What's the matter?' I opened my eyes to ask.
'What did you just say?' She frowned at me.
How on earth should I know? Nothing of consequence. Just pre-sex talk, that's all. What was the big deal?
'What's wrong?' I frowned.
'You called me Cara,' Eva told me.
I've never been turned off so fast in my life. I moved away from her. 'I never called you that.'
'Yes, you did,' Eva argued. 'You called me Cara.'
'You're mistaken.'
Eva didn't argue, but her expression said it all.
'I'd better go,' I said, pulling on my boxer shorts. I couldn't've had sex then if my life had depended on it.
'You don't have to go,' said Eva.
'I think I'd better,' I said, pulling on my trousers.
'Was Cara your ex?'
'I never called you Cara,' I turned my head to tell her insistently. 'I don't know any Cara.'
'If you say so.'
'I do.'
I pulled on my shirt and headed out the door.
'You don't have to go,' Eva called after me. 'I don't want you to leave.'
I walke
d out. Then I ran.
thirty-three. Sephy
Well, here I was outside the Dew Drop Inn and I was so nervous I felt like I was about to pass out. I mean, it was only a club for heaven's sake. It wasn't exactly the Royal Capital Hall so why was I getting so worked up? The fact that it'd taken me over an hour to get ready earlier didn't help to steady my nerves. I'd tried on my favourite cream-coloured dress, followed by beige jeans and a black shirt but neither outfit did the trick. I finally settled for my black jeans and a loose-fitting sparkly silver top. I didn't want anything hugging my boobs too tightly.
I took a step back to get a better view of the Dew Drop Inn. At least, that's the reason I told myself. It took all my willpower to stop myself from walking backwards until I could turn and run. It really wasn't a bad setting though – a club opposite the common with now closed and boarded-up shops on either side. Not too many residents to complain about the noise then.
Jaxon and the others were trying to find somewhere safe to park the van as it had all the equipment in it. Sonny brought his own portable keyboard and Jaxon brought his guitar. Even though the club already had a drum kit, Rhino insisted on bringing his own drumsticks. When I asked him why, he told me very condescendingly, 'I'm a professional. My sticks are an extension of my hands. So where I go, they go.'
That's me told! I thought as he walked off. Rhino definitely didn't like me. But I wasn't about to burst out crying over it.
I'd insisted on getting out to get some air and stretch my legs. Really I just needed to get away from the lads and their talk of gigs past, present and future. They didn't seem to realize that each word was just making me more and more panicky.
The queue was beginning to build up so I thought I'd better join it and keep a place for the others. Five minutes later I was still waiting for the guys to turn up and I was almost at the front of the queue. Two lean, mean Cross bouncers, dressed in black suits and wearing discreet headsets, stood at the door, selecting who could go in and who couldn't. One of the bouncers had on a purple shirt; the other one's shirt was dark blue but they both looked remarkably similar. Was it some kind of bouncer uniform then? Looking around, I couldn't help noticing though that the queue consisted solely of Crosses, except for the occasional Nought girl.
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