Checkmate

by Malorie Blackman

  'And what happened?'

  'You did,' I said truthfully. 'For a long time I felt like I didn't deserve to be loved or to love anyone. I thought . . . I thought our relationship was mostly propinquity – oh, not from my point of view, but yours.'

  'Thanks a lot,' Sonny said bitterly.

  'I'm just being honest,' I said.

  'If that's all you thought it was, why did you let me in your bed?'

  'I was fond of you and grateful that . . . that you wanted me. I didn't realize how desperate I was for someone to want me.'

  'So you put up with me touching you out of gratitude and you thought all I wanted was sex?' Sonny spoke as if the words were hot ashes in his mouth.

  'No. Of course not,' I sighed. 'I'm not explaining this very well. It was more than just sex. You could've had sex with anyone, but you wanted me. You wanted to be with me. Not Kamal Hadley's daughter, not Callum McGregor's lover, not Callie Rose's mother. Me. I started to see myself the way you saw me, as someone worth holding onto instead of someone dead inside.'

  'And then I asked you to marry me.'

  I looked down at the cushion on my lap, worrying the corner of it with restless fingers.

  'And then you asked me to marry you,' I repeated.

  I forced myself to look at Sonny. I wanted to say so much, but I could tell from the look on his face that I didn't have to.

  'And where are you now?' asked Sonny.

  'I'm beginning to remember who and what I am and what I want,' I said. 'It's like waking up inside. Does that make sense?'

  Sonny didn't answer.

  'I'm sorry for the way I treated you Sonny. You deserved better.'

  'And now?' asked Sonny.

  'And now you have Sherona.' I forced a smile. 'And I wish you only good things.'

  'I see,' said Sonny.

  He stood up. I did the same, dropping the cushion back in the chair.

  'D'you . . . still want to work together? I'd like to . . .'

  'I don't think that's a very good idea,' Sonny said quietly.

  Who would've thought that words could weigh so much? They sat on my chest, crushing my heart.

  'OK.' I nodded. 'You're probably right. And your girlfriend would never trust the two of us together now.'

  'Sherona isn't

  'Isn't what?'

  'Isn't very forgiving. So I think it'd be better if we didn't see each other any more – just for a little while.'

  'I understand. Don't forget to say goodbye to Rose.'

  'I won't.'

  We went out into the hallway just as Rose emerged from the kitchen.

  'Are you staying for dinner?' she asked.

  'No, Callie Rose. I have to go now,' said Sonny.

  'When are you coming back?'

  'I'm not sure,' said Sonny. 'I have to do a lot of travelling in the next few months. I'm not sure when I'll be round this way again.'

  'Oh,' said Rose, her face wilting. 'Don't you like me any more?'

  'Callie Rose, I love you,' said Sonny, getting down on one knee. 'Don't you ever think anything else.'

  'Then why're you going away?'

  'I have to, Callie Rose. I wouldn't leave unless I had no other choice.'

  'Will you come and see me when you get back?'

  'I promise. Just as soon as I can,' said Sonny.

  I watched as Sonny and Rose hugged each other, her arms around his neck, his arms around her waist. I had to force myself not to look away. Sonny stood up.

  'Bye, Callie Rose. Be good.'

  Rose sniffed but didn't answer.

  'Goodbye, Sephy,' said Sonny.

  'Bye, Sonny.'

  I watched him open the door and leave, shutting the door carefully behind him.

  'What did you do?' Rose rounded on me immediately.

  'Pardon?' It took me a couple of seconds to tear my gaze away from the closed door.

  'You sent him away, didn't you?' Rose exploded. 'You ruin everything. You hate everyone and everything and you drove him away.'

  'Rose,' I said, stunned. 'I didn't send him away.'

  'I don't believe you. You just want everyone to be as miserable as you are,' Rose shouted. 'Well, I am. Are you happy now?'

  Rose sprinted upstairs, leaving me drowning in her wake.

  fifty. Jasmine

  Go away!

  When would the person on the phone get the hint and ring off? I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wasn't in a sociable state of mind. Besides, my chest was hurting again. I really would have to go and get it checked out. But I hate doctors and all things medical. Doctors are like the police, they only deal in bad news. Maybe I'd ask Sephy to go with me this time. She'd be more than willing to do it. I just wish . . . My poor Sephy.

  In another lifetime, months had turned into years when all I had cared about was my next drink and being the perfect wife. I'd been too coiled around the nearest wine bottle to pay attention to my children, far less worry about them. But I was making up for that now with a vengeance. Minerva was settled, though we didn't speak very often. A fortnightly phone call to exchange platitudes. A visit every two or three months to show my face. Minerva and her family very rarely come to me, but I don't mind that. This house holds bad memories for Minerva. She spent years cleaning up my vomit and washing me off and putting me to bed when I was too drunk to do it for myself. Things that no child should have to do. And she managed to hide what she was doing for me from Sephy for so long. So long. I robbed Minerva of a normal childhood, I know that.

  But Sephy . . . Sephy had her dad and Minerva and me all looking out for her, but it didn't help. It's as if when she became a teenager, she left all her happiness behind in her childhood. I don't blame Callum for that any more. I don't blame anyone really. Maybe myself, maybe the fates. But Sephy deserves some happiness now. After all these years that's not too much to ask. I thought she'd get that with Sonny but they've broken up. Sephy tells me that it's for good but I can't believe that. Maybe I just don't want to believe that. And Meggie and Sephy are still wary around each other. And Sephy and Callie Rose are arguing more and more these days.

  Go away! The phone was still ringing!

  'Oh, for heaven's sake!' I snatched it up off the occasional table and barked into it, 'Hello?'

  'Mother? It's me, Sephy.'

  'Sephy? Is everything OK?'

  'No . . . we've been burgled.'

  I stared down at the ground. 'You're joking . . .'

  'It's not something I'd joke about,' Sephy told me.

  'Did they take much?'

  'The TV, the DVD player, the music centre, a couple of cameras, stuff like that.'

  'Are you insured?'

  'Yes, but—'

  Silence.

  I moved forward to sit at the edge of my seat. 'What is it, love? What're you not telling me?'

  'Mother, they took Callum's last letter to me.' I could hear the tears in Sephy's voice.

  I counted to ten before I spoke. I'd been about to launch in with 'Good riddance' but thank goodness my brain kicked in before my mouth. That was the last thing Sephy wanted to hear, I could tell that much from her voice.

  'Persephone, why did you hold onto that letter? I never saw it, but from what you told me it was pure poison.'

  'I know, but I . . . I didn't know how to let it go. I should've torn it up or burned it years ago but every time I tried, I couldn't bring myself to do it,' Sephy told me. 'I had it hidden where I thought no one would find it.'

  'Where?'

  'You know the shoe boxes stacked up at the back of my wardrobe? I kept the letter in the bottom box, inside one of the shoes.'

  'And the burglars found it there?' I asked, aghast.

  'I know,' said Sephy. 'That's what's worrying me. I had my jewellery box in front of the shoe boxes and they didn't touch that.'

  'They left all your jewellery to rummage through your shoe boxes?' My frown deepened considerably.

  'See! You think it's just as strange as I do.'

  '
It's probably nothing,' I said, trying to soothe my daughter.

  'But suppose it's something, Mother? Suppose they sell the letter to the newspapers and the whole thing gets dragged into the public arena again? I can just see some hack journalist reading out the juiciest phrases – Sephy, I don't love you. I never did. You were just an assignment to me. A way for all of us in our cell of the Liberation Militia to get money – a lot of money – from your dad. Or suppose someone shows the letter to Rose? I couldn't bear that.'

  'Sephy, calm down. You're getting a bit ahead of yourself here. The thieves probably thought it was something valuable and were interrupted before they could see that it wasn't. So they probably just took it with them and now it's lying in some dustbin somewhere.'

  'D'you really think so?'

  'Of course,' I smiled. 'Since when are burglars interested in personal letters?'

  'I guess you're right.'

  'I know I am. So stop worrying about it,' I told Sephy. 'In fact, if anything, the filching beggars have done you a favour. They got rid of that thing for you.'

  'I suppose so,' said Sephy, not entirely convinced.

  'D'you want me to come over?' I asked.

  'No, 'course not. There's nothing you can do,' Sephy dismissed. 'I was just a bit worried, that's all.'

  'You've got nothing to worry about, love.'

  'OK. Thanks, Mother.'

  'You're welcome. Just phone me if you need money or anything else.'

  'I will. Bye.'

  I put down the phone slowly, my smile fading rapidly. Why would burglars take a personal letter? In spite of what I'd said to Sephy, I was concerned. If that letter made its way into the wrong hands . . . Or if, God forbid, my Callie Rose should see it . . .

  I shook my head. Just how many more lives was that letter going to destroy?

  fifty-one.

  Callie Rose is 12

  I got to school late – again. I took a deep breath and opened the door. I don't know what I was hoping for. Maybe if I strode to my seat with dignity and purpose, Mr March wouldn't have a go at me. And to mutilate a line from the play we were currently doing in English: 'Is this a flying pig I see before me?'

  'Callie Rose Hadley, what time is it on the planet you live on? Do you even occupy the same space-time continuum as the rest of us?' asked Mr March in his usual convoluted way.

  'Pardon, sir?' I pretended ignorance.

  'Why can everyone in this class get to school on time except you?'

  'Sorry, sir,' I mumbled. I kept my head down and headed for my desk.

  'Sorry doesn't cut it,' said Mr March.

  I could tell from his voice that he wasn't going to give me a break. He'd be on my case all day now. I stopped short about a metre from my desk. A Cross boy sat in what had been the free seat next to me. He had collar-length, jet-black locks and the biggest, darkest eyes I've ever seen. He was a bit plump, although it looked like he was trying to hide it by slouching in his chair. He was quite good looking actually – as boys go. I frowned at him. He looked at me, then turned to face the front. I sat down. When had this new boy arrived then?

  'Callie Rose, see me after class,' said Mr March.

  'Yes, sir.' I sighed inwardly. I'd probably get a letter home now – as if Mum needed another reason to be disappointed in me. Mr March turned back to the whiteboard to continue the lesson. I turned to the new boy.

  'I didn't catch your name,' I whispered.

  He looked at me. 'That's 'cause I didn't throw it,' he replied. And he turned to face the front again.

  Be like that then, I thought, eyebrows raised.

  And we didn't exchange another word for the rest of the lesson. But I found out his name when Mr March asked him a question.

  Amy as.

  fifty-two. Sephy

  I was very pleased with the way my new song was coming along. This one almost wrote itself. I'd recorded the guitar and bass guitar tracks. Now I just needed to use my keyboard to lay down the piano and drum fillers. But I couldn't make up my mind whether or not to start with a saxophone intro or strings. After giving it some more thought, I decided to try each in turn and see which one sounded better. I hadn't sold my last two songs but I was hopeful that this one would do better. I could certainly use the money.

  A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my reverie. I saw Callie Rose mouth my name. I took off my headphones.

  'Yes, dear?'

  'Mum, I . . . I went to the toilet and I . . . I think I've started my period

  'You have?' A grin burst across my face. 'My baby! Come here!'

  I was about to give Callie a hug, but I caught myself in time. I gave her a pat on the head and a kiss on the forehead instead.

  'Mum, I'm not a dog who just retrieved a bone, thank you very much,' Callie complained. 'And it's nothing to grin about either. It's yuk and messy. And how come boys don't have to go through this? It's not fair.'

  'I know, dear. But you've got the next forty-odd years to get used to it,' I smiled. 'Besides, now you're in tune with nature. You have a season, a rhythm, like the moon and the tides. You're linked to the cosmos—'

  'What a load of crap!' said Callie.

  'I beg your pardon!' I admonished, trying not to laugh. 'Language, Callie! Though I must admit, I thought the same when my sister Minerva told me that when I had my first period.'

  'Aunt Minerva?' Callie said surprised. 'How come you told Aunt Minerva and not Nana Jasmine?'

  I could feel my face begin to get warm. 'I can't remember. Maybe Mother was out somewhere.'

  Yeah, out like a light.

  'Callie, come with me.'

  I took Callie into my bedroom and fished out the assortment of sanitary protection I'd been hoarding over the last few months. When I caught Callie scowling at me, I quickly wiped the smile off my face, even though I felt so . . . so proud inside. I took Callie through the use of each one, telling her the pros and cons of each product. When Callie made her selection, I watched her leave my bedroom, still grumbling about how unfair it was that boys had it so much easier than girls.

  Look at our baby, Callum. She's growing up.

  I just had to tell someone! I phoned my sister, Minerva.

  'Hi, Minnie, it's me. You OK?'

  'I'm fine,' Minerva said, surprised. I didn't phone her very often.

  'Guess what? Callie Rose has started her period!'

  'Already?' said Minerva. 'She's a bit young, isn't she?'

  'She's twelve, nearly thirteen,' I pointed out.

  'That makes me feel ancient,' Minerva complained. 'I still think of my niece as being five or six.'

  'Hardly. In fact—'

  'Why did you phone Aunt Minerva just to tell her that?' Callie shouted from my bedroom door. 'My period is my private business. Why don't you just put an ad in Aunt Minerva's newspaper and tell the whole world!'

  And she marched off in a real huff.

  'Minerva, I'm going to have to call you back,' I sighed.

  'I heard,' Minerva laughed. 'She's so like you, isn't she?'

  That made me pause. 'What d'you mean?' 'She speaks her mind, that one. No messing about.' 'I guess,' I said. 'Talk to you soon.' 'Good luck,' said Minerva, still laughing. And she hung up.

  Now to find my daughter and apologize profusely!

  fifty-three.

  Callie Rose is 12

  'The new boy is soooo cool!'

  Was I the only one in our group who hadn't totally lost her mind? 'You're not still talking about Amyas, are you?' I asked.

  'Even his name is way cool!' said Sammi.

  I mean – please! Amyas was about as cool as an erupting zit.

  'What's so cool about him?' I asked, sourly. 'I must've blinked and missed it.'

  'Callie, don't your eyes work?' said Rafiya.

  'My eyes work just fine, thank you?'

  'Look! There he is!' Sammi drooled. 'Yummy!'

  I shook my head. If Rafiya and Sammi were going to dribble on about Amyas all lunch time then I was off. I h
ad far better things to do than talk about that rude fart.

  'He's looking this way! He's looking this way!' Rafiya cried out.

  For the last ten minutes they'd been looking out for Amyas, just dying for him to notice them. And the moment he did, Sammi and Rafiya immediately looked away. What was the point? I glared at Amyas, still remembering what he'd said to me in our first lesson together. Unfriendly twerp!

  'Is he still looking? Callie, is he still looking?'

  'Yes, he is,' I replied. I stood up. Enough was enough. Reading horoscopes in the library would be better than this and horoscopes were the dregs. 'And I'm off. You'll have to dribble over him by yourselves.'

  'Callie Rose, you are so immature,' Sammi told me loftily.

  'Girls should check out the boys. What's the point of being a teenager otherwise?' said Rafiya.

  'I'm not a teenager yet,' I pointed out. 'I'm only twelve. And if turning thirteen means that I salivate over a moron like Amyas then I'll just skip ahead to twenty.'

  'So childish!' Rafiya called after me as I marched off.

  I spun around. 'Boys go to Jupiter, to get more stupider! Girls go to college to get more knowledge!'

  I was very pleased with myself. Huh! Me? Childish?

  Rafiya raised an eyebrow. 'Actually, boys go to Venus, to play with their—'

  'Rafiya,' Sammi interrupted in a fit of giggles.

  Sammi and Rafiya had become too silly for words. I flounced off. At least I didn't sit on the bench in the school courtyard making a fool of myself over some boy.

  And what's more, that was never, ever going to happen.

  fifty-four. Jasmine

  Please, God, let me be mistaken. Please.

  Take a deep breath, Jasmine, and calm down. It's probably your mind just playing tricks on you. That's all it is. Use your fingertips the way the doctor showed you at your last check-up and work your way around the . . . area. And even if it's something, it's probably nothing. Why should it be something? The last time, the lump disappeared all on its own. The last time it was probably just hormones or a bruise maybe or something that your body could sort out for itself. The last time, it was nothing.