One of my feet was on the ground, but I was ready to cycle away like crazy if I had to.
'Who are you?' I asked, still keeping my distance.
'Well, I asked you first!' the man smiled. 'D'you know where Sephy Hadley lives?'
'Are you a friend of hers?' I asked.
The man sighed and shook his head. 'Not really. You see, Sephy and I had a quarrel a long, long time ago and we haven't spoken since. And now I really want to make it up to her – and Callum. I want, more than anything, to put the past behind me.'
'Oh, I see,' I said. I slowly took my foot off the pedal and put it back on the pavement. 'Well, you can't see Callum. He died before I was born.'
'Callum's dead?'
The man stumbled back as if my words had just knocked him off his feet.
'Are you OK?' I asked.
'Yes . . . no . . . I . . . I can't believe Callum's dead. How did he die?'
'In a car accident,' I told him.
The man looked stunned, then his eyes narrowed briefly.
'Who told you that?' he asked sharply.
'My mum. Callum McGregor was my dad,' I replied.
The man stared at me. 'You're Callie Rose?'
'Yeah . . .' I put my right foot back on the pedal.
'And Callum's dead?'
'That's right.'
'And who told you he died in a car accident?'
'My mum. Why?'
'I just wondered,' said the man.
The way he was looking at me was making me feel uncomfortable. 'Who are you?' I asked.
The man replied, 'My name is Jude.'
twenty-five. Jude
There was no trace of recognition on her face when I told her my name. So not only had Sephy failed to mention me, but my mum hadn't bothered to talk about me either. No matter. I can use that. Three weeks of skulking in shadows and watching my mum's house had finally paid off. And not a moment too soon as I was beginning to despair of ever getting a chance to talk to Sephy's bastard alone. Seems like I used the right ploy. Pretending not to know about Callum's death made her relax slightly. And that nonsense about my brother dying in a car crash . . . They've hidden the truth from this girl. I can use that as well. But don't rush it, Jude. You've got plenty of time. Now that she's old enough, I can start grooming her. Nice and easy does it. This little girl is going to play a big part in my future plans. A very big part.
And no one is going to stand in my way.
I'll make sure of that.
twenty-six.
Rose is 10
The man held out his hand, but if he thought I was going to take it, he had two screws and a hinge loose in his head. I wasn't that stupid. I watched as his hand dropped to his side.
'How come you know my mum and dad?'
'Callum is . . . was my brother.'
'You're my uncle?' Something like a firework burst inside of me. But I deliberately stopped any more from going off. Be careful, Rose. Was this man really my uncle? Jude . . . I remembered now. When I was eight or nine, I asked Nana Meggie if I had any aunts or uncles apart from Aunt Minerva. Nana told me I used to have an aunt called Lynette but that she died very young, before I was even born. That made me start to cry, because Nana had lost both my dad and her daughter and it was so sad. That's when Nana told me about my Uncle Jude. He was Dad's older brother. But Nana said I couldn't see him because he was so far away.
But now he was back – if this really was him . . . I had to be careful.
'Yes,' the man replied with a brief smile. 'I'm your . . . uncle.'
'What's your sister's name?' I asked.
'Lynette,' the man replied at once. 'She died a long time ago.'
'What's Nana Meggie's middle name?'
The man frowned at me, then his expression cleared. 'Oh, I see. Well, my mum doesn't have a middle name. Her name is Margaret McGregor although she hates the name Margaret and never uses it.'
A smile covered my entire face. It was my uncle!
Yahoo! Dad, look! It's your brother. My uncle. Does he look like you? Uncle Jude has lovely, dark eyes and a friendly smile. I'm afraid to blink in case he vanishes before I can drink him in. I want to memorize everything around him and about him. Dad, look! It's your brother!
'Hello, Uncle Jude,' I grinned.
'I don't know what to say.' Uncle Jude shook his head. 'I . . . I'm so happy to meet you – but to hear that my brother is dead
'I'm sorry,' I said, my smile vanishing. How horrible was that? To hear that his brother had died and he hadn't even known it. 'Nana Meggie's not home, but come and see my mum. I'm sure she'd love to meet you again.'
'I . . . I don't think so.' Uncle Jude shook his head. 'Not now I know about my brother.'
'Why not?'
'As I said, Sephy and I had a quarrel a long time ago. I'm sure I'm the last person she wants to see.'
'Oh but—
'No, Callie. Maybe some other time. I've just found out what happened to my brother . . . I need some time alone.'
Uncle Jude turned to walk away.
'Am I going to see you again?' I asked eagerly.
'Would you like to?'
'Yes, please.' I would love that.
'On one condition,' said Jude seriously.
'What?'
'I'd rather you didn't say anything to anyone about my visit yet.'
'Why?'
Uncle Jude looked so sad. 'I need to think of a way to heal this rift between your mum and me. We both said some things . . . Anyway, if I were to turn up now or if she heard that I'd contacted you without her permission, then your mum and I will never make up and be friends.'
'Then I won't tell her. Not until you say I can,' I said.
'D'you promise?'
'I promise.'
'Are you a girl who keeps her promises?' asked Uncle Jude.
'Always.'
Uncle Jude tilted his head to one side to watch me. I didn't look away, I looked him straight in the eyes. I wanted him to know that I meant it. I'd never break my promise to him. Never, ever.
'I might not be in touch for a while, maybe even a few months, but you mustn't tell my mum or your mum or anyone else that you saw me. OK?'
'I won't. Not a word.'
'Good girl. I have a good feeling about you, Callie Rose. I think you can be trusted to keep our very grownup secret.'
If I nodded any faster, my head would fall off. At last I'd found someone who realized that I was ten years old, not ten months. And I would show Uncle Jude I was the best secret-keeper in the whole wide world.
'Bye, Callie Rose. See you soon.'
'Bye, Uncle Jude.'
Uncle Jude strode away from me. His back straight, but his head bent.
Did you walk like that, Dad? Did you talk like Uncle Jude. I bet you're the one who brought my uncle back into my life. Thank you so much, Dad. You do look out for me.
twenty-seven. Sephy
Rose has been in a very quiet mood over the last couple of weeks. At first I thought she was sulking over not going to the same school as her friend Nikki. But I'm not so sure any more. I think it's something deeper than that. I've asked her what's wrong countless times but all she says is, 'Nothing!' I am so sick of that word.
Nothing.
Don't tell me it's nothing when I can see that it's something.
Oh well. I'll just have to trust that when Callie Rose is good and ready, she'll tell me what's on her mind.
twenty-eight.
Rose is 10
'Rose, stop bouncing on the bed before you end up bouncing out of the window.'
Whilst my feet were off the bed and up in the air, I drew my knees up even higher towards my chest, the way they'd taught us in my trampoline lessons. I bent my knees as I hit the bed and whoosh, I was back in the air again, even higher than before. Yahoo!! 'Rose, am I speaking Martian?' 'But Mum,' I grinned. 'This is fun!' 'Rose, don't make me have to tell you again.' I looked at Mum as I sailed up, spinning my arms like a watermill. She looked irritat
ed but not annoyed. I reckoned I had a few more bounces before she started shouting.
Up and down! Up and down! Mum's bed is the best bed in the whole house for trampolining. I did a straddle jump, then a pike, then a seated drop which was quite good, even if I do say so myself.
'Callie Rose, get down,' Mum insisted.
I had time for one more bounce. This one was going to be the highest one ever. So high, I'd touch the ceiling. I bounced forward, ready to hit the ground running the moment Mum started to yell. But then it all went wrong! My foot slipped on one corner of the bed and I slid onto the floor faster than a thought. My back hit the corner of the bed and scraped all the way down it as I landed smack on my bum.
I opened my mouth – and howled.
Mum was at my side in an instant. 'Are you OK?' She squatted down. 'Rose, are you all right?'
My back was on fire. I tried to open my mouth to speak but all I could do was scream. I opened my arms to be picked up. Mum began to open her arms as well, but then she took hold of one of my hands and held it in both of hers.
'Rose, calm down, love. Where does it hurt? Show me.'
The door was flung open and Nana Meggie came running in. 'What the hell was that? It sounded like the whole ceiling was coming down.'
Nana took one look at me sitting on the floor and bawling before sweeping me up and closing her arms around me like the Venus flytrap we saw at the botanical gardens. My face was buried in the folds of her powder-blue dress which smelled of flowery perfume and chicken. Nana had her hands pressed against my back, right where it was hurting the most. And she was hugging me so tight I had to turn my face to the side just so I could breathe.
'Nana, I fell off the bed and hurt my back,' I cried. Nana hugged me tighter, which made me cry harder. 'You're hurting me.'
Moving her hands off my back, Nana Meggie bent over to kiss the top of my head and each of my wet cheeks.
'It's OK, love. Nana's here. Let's have a look see, shall we?' She lifted up the back of my T-shirt while my face was still buried in her dress.
'Goodness! You've already got some swelling under one of your shoulder blades,' said Nana. 'You're going to have a beaut of a bruise there tomorrow.'
'She needs an ice pack on that to reduce the swelling,' said Mum from behind me.
I pulled away from Nana Meggie and turned to Mum, my arms outstretched. 'Mum, it really hurts.'
Mum took hold of my hands. 'Come on, love. Let's get that bruise sorted out.' And with that, she led the way past Nana Meggie.
'Will you carry me, Mummy?'
Mum looked down at me. 'You're too heavy, Rose. Besides, I might make your back hurt worse. You'd better walk.'
So we walked to the bathroom further along the landing. Mum dampened a face flannel, wrung out the water and, lifting up my T-shirt, put the flannel very carefully on my back. She didn't hurry, she didn't rush, she was very careful. I watched her, the tears drying on my face.
The cool flannel made my back feel a little better, but it still hurt. I was still sniffing, trying to stop myself from crying. Mum didn't like it when I cried.
I held my arms out again. Mum smiled and kissed the top of my head.
'Don't you think you're a bit old to have a cuddle every time you scrape your knee or stub your toe?' said Mum.
I looked at her, my arms dropping to my sides. 'Yes, Mum.'
'Good girl,' said Mum. 'You've scraped your back quite badly and a bit of it is bleeding but it doesn't need a plaster.'
'Yes, Mum.'
'What's the matter?'
'Nothing, Mum.'
I looked down at the ground then. I didn't want Mum to see my face. My back was throbbing now. Mum turned me round so that my back was towards her and stroked over my bruise very gently, so gently that it hardly hurt. Then to my surprise, she kissed my back just where it was hurting.
'There you are, love. Does that feel better?'
I spun around and put my arms around Mum's neck.
'Oh yes, Mummy. Much better.'
'I'm glad.' Mum stroked my arms before pulling them from around her neck. 'You're strangling me, Rose.'
'Sorry.' I let her go.
By now my back was only aching instead of throbbing. But something inside my chest was hurting worse.
Mum kissed my forehead. 'Come and have some ice cream for being so brave,' she said. 'Not many people know this but ice cream is very good for bruised backs.'
So Mum got me some chocolate ice cream and it was yummy.
And after a while the pain in my back faded away until I could hardly feel it any more.
But the pain in my chest took a lot longer.
twenty-nine.
Rose is 10
Tobey was in a funny mood today. And I don't mean funny-haha either. Mum and me visited Nana Jasmine's and as Tobey was round our house yet again, Mum invited him along.
'We're off to see my mum, Tobey,' said Mum. 'Wanna come?'
'Yes, please,' he said straight away. But the moment he said it, he got this very strange look on his face, like his mouth had run away from his brain and now his brain was regretting it. He'd never been to Nana Jasmine's house before, but I'd certainly told him enough about it. Maybe that's why he wanted to see it, but then got nervous thinking about what it must be like and meeting my nana. After we got permission from his mum, we set off. He was really quiet whilst Mum drove us to Nana Jasmine's. I tried to talk to him loads of times, but he just shrugged or said yes or no, so after a while I gave up and chatted to Mum instead.
'Are you OK, Tobey?' Mum asked more than once.
'Yes, thanks, Miss Hadley,' said Tobey. But that was all he said.
'Rose, stay in the house for at least ten minutes before disappearing off with Tobey,' warned Mum as we got out of the car.
'Yes, Mum,' I sighed. We had this conversation about me running off to the garden or down by the beach, every time we visited Nana Jasmine. Mum reckoned it looked bad to greet Nana Jasmine with, 'Hi, Nana. Can I go away and play now?'
We sat down in Nana Jasmine's huge living room. Nana Jasmine called it her drawing room, which made it sound like it should've been more fun than it was. Drawing room sounded like a room you should be able to paint in and draw and make a mess. Just goes to show, doesn't it? Nana Jasmine's two sofas cost more than Mum's car (so Mum said) and I had to be very careful not to touch any of Nana's ornaments or walk on her rug with my shoes. Mum won't let me drink anything more colourful than water in Nana's drawing room even though Nana Jasmine says she really doesn't mind what I eat or drink in there.
'That's not what you used to tell me,' Mum said once. 'You wouldn't let me drink tea or orange juice or anything else in this room.'
'That was a long time ago,' Nana told her. 'Times change. People change.'
'Not that much,' Mum scoffed.
'Sephy, you should have more faith in people,' Nana told her.
'How do I do that?' asked Mum.
'You start by having more faith in yourself,' said Nana.
Then Nana looked down at me as if she'd just remembered I was there.
'Young ears are flapping,' said Nana Jasmine. Like I wouldn't know what that was supposed to mean!
So there I was, perched on the sofa, trying to look like all the little crystal figures Nana Jasmine had in her cabinet were actually interesting. I counted to one hundred before I thought my head would turn inside out if I stayed there one more moment. I turned to nudge Tobey, who was sitting next to me. But he wasn't paying any attention to me. His eyes were here, there and everywhere, taking in everything in Nana's room. What was so fascinating? I looked around, trying to see the room through Tobey's eyes as if I was seeing it for the very first time. The room was big, as big as our kitchen, living room and conservatory at home all rolled into one. But it was still too neat and tidy.
'Nana, can Tobey and me go down to the beach?' I asked, ignoring the frown Mum was sending in my direction.
'Tobey and I,' Nana corrected.
'Can Tobey and I go down to the beach?' I asked.
'You could,' said Nana Jasmine. 'But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you!'
Tobey was getting all embarrassed next to me, but for the wrong reason. I sighed and tried again.
'May Tobey and I go down to the beach?'
'Yes, but be back in time for lunch.'
'Yes, Nana.' I sprang up, grabbing Tobey's arm before Mum could have a go.
I pulled him out of the room and into the kitchen.
'Fancy a game of beach tennis?' I asked.
'What's that?' said Tobey.
'Tennis on the beach.' Duh!!
'OK.'
I led the way into the conservatory. A medium-sized cupboard held all the garden and beach games like croquet and boules and plastic tennis rackets. I grabbed two and a couple of tennis balls and ran out into the garden.
'This way,' I told Tobey.
We ran all the way across Nana's garden. I stopped for a moment when we got to the rose garden. Nana Jasmine had told me that the whole rose garden used to be under glass, like in a huge greenhouse – but after her divorce she'd had it removed. When I had asked her why, she said, 'I wanted the flowers to enjoy the wind and the rain. Flowers should know winter and summer, it makes them stronger. It doesn't do to keep plants too cosseted. Or people for that matter.' And although I'd asked her the question, Nana Jasmine had looked at my mum as she answered.
It was strange to think that my dad used to work in the same spot before I was even born. And his ashes had been scattered here too. I knew they'd be long gone, but it was still kinda lovely to think that Dad could be swirling around me at that very moment – in the fresh air I breathed, in the flowers I saw and could smell, even in the birdsong I could hear. After all, birds ate worms and maybe a worm ate some of Dad's ashes years and years ago and then a bird ate the worm and now it wasn't really a bird singing, but Dad! (How long did birds live anyway?) Every time we visited Nana Jasmine, I'd go out to the rose garden. I know it sounds silly but I really felt closer to Dad there.
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