Noughts and Crosses, Malorie Blackman [types of ebook readers .txt] 📗

like a cold rice pudding. The man was seriously ticked off. I only noticed because I was looking at the faces of every male that passed me, wondering if this boy looked like my brother, or if that boy had the same eyes, the same nose, the same mouth as my brother. I’d been at it all day. I’d been at it ever since I’d heard I had a brother. My brother. I turned the corner and saw Callum standing in the doorway of our classroom. I was ready to tell him my news now. Quickly checking up and down the corridor to make sure we were alone, I said, ‘Callum, guess what? You’ll never believe what I found out from eavesdropping on Mother and Dad . . .’

‘Not now, Sephy.’

‘But Callum, this is important . . .’

‘Sephy, I said not now. Can’t you think of anyone else but yourself for a change?’ Callum snapped.

And he strode off, in the opposite direction to Mr Jason. But not before I realized that the expression on his face mirrored that of Mr Jason. Exactly.

thirty-six. Callum

We were all sitting down for dinner and not one of us spoke. No-one had anything to say. Lynny kept her head bowed and concentrated on her plate of sausages and chips. Jude had the same sour, sullen look on his face that he’d worn since he and Lynny had had their fight. Dad’s face was sad. Mum threw down her knife and fork, the clatter making us all jump.

‘Goodness me! What’s the matter with everyone?’

‘Meggie . . .’

‘Don’t Meggie me.’ Mum frowned at Dad. ‘There’s been a funny atmosphere in this house for a while now. What’s going on?’

‘I’m going for a walk.’ Lynny sprang out of her chair.

‘Lynny?’ Mum wasn’t the only one who was surprised. This was the first time Lynny had shown the slightest interest in leaving the house by herself since I don’t know when.

‘It’s OK, Mum. I’ll only be gone for a little while.’

‘Where’re you going?’ asked Mum.

Lynny smiled gently. ‘Mum, I’m a big girl now. Stop worrying.’

‘Want some company?’ I asked.

Lynny shook her head. She turned abruptly and headed upstairs.

‘I thought you were going for a walk?’ Mum called after her.

‘I want to do something first,’ Lynny called back.

I carried on eating my dinner for the want of something better to do.

‘I’m going now. I’ll see you all later,’ said Lynny, when she finally came downstairs again.

And she grabbed her wraparound jacket and headed out of the door with all of us watching her. Lynny turned round. Mum half stood up, but then she sat down again, never taking her eyes off my sister.

‘Bye, everyone,’ Lynny smiled softly, the saddest, loneliest smile I’ve ever seen. And then she shut the door behind her and was gone.

‘Ryan, I want to know exactly what’s going on – and don’t say it’s nothing. That won’t work this time. One of you had better start talking – and fast.’

Jude lowered his head. I looked at Jude. Dad looked at Mum.

‘Meggie, it was when you last went to visit your sister,’ Dad said at last.

‘I’m listening,’ Mum prompted sombrely.

And, as Dad told her exactly what had happened, we waited for the storm to hit.

Mum sat glaring at each of us in turn. I knew she was still doing it, even though I didn’t dare look at her. After a lot of shouting, she’d spent the last three and whatever hours staring and glaring and scowling, until I don’t know about the others, but I felt like a withered worm, twisting for her contemptuous inspection.

‘Ryan, where’s my daughter?’ asked Mum for the umpteenth time.

Dad didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just continued to hang his head.

‘Jude and Lynette fighting . . . Ryan, I can’t believe you let it happen. You are the most ineffectual useless man it’s ever been my misfortune to come across,’ Mum said with deep reproach.

‘It’s not Dad’s fault, Mum,’ Jude tried.

‘And you can shut right up.’ Mum turned on him like a cornered rat. ‘I’m sick to the back teeth of this belief you have, that you and your opinions are always right and everyone else is wrong. You’ve been picking on your sister and goading her for months now.’

‘Well, you’ve been doing the same to me, so that makes us about even,’ Jude shot back bitterly.

‘I’ve been picking on you – as you call it – because you’re not doing anything with your life. You could work with your dad in the lumberyard or do an apprenticeship with Old Man Tony but . . .’

‘Old Man Tony is always bombed off his trolley! Light a match in front of his mouth and the whole street would go up in flames. And I don’t want to work in his ruddy bakery!’ Jude shouted. ‘If I get into that, I’ll never get out again. I’ll be covered with flour and baking bread till the day I die.’

‘It’s an honest job.’

‘I don’t want an honest job!’

‘You don’t know what you want,’ Mum dismissed with a snort.

‘Yes, I do. I want to go to school.’ The words came out in a rush.

I stared at Jude. Since when had he wanted to go back to school? He’d always scorned me for having my nose in book after book. When I’d been studying for the Heathcroft High entrance exam, every word, every syllable he’d directed my way had dripped with sarcasm and contempt.

‘Jude, we’ve been through this before,’ Mum sighed her impatience. ‘We didn’t have the money to keep you in school. I lost my job – remember?’

‘But you found the money for Callum to go to school,’ said Jude. ‘Every bit of care and attention in this house goes to Lynette and Callum. When is it my turn?’

‘Boy, stop talking nonsense,’ Mum snapped. ‘You’re our son and we love you – just the same as the others – but at this precise moment I don’t like any of you very much.’

‘Then