Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman (historical books to read TXT) 📕

towards me, her school bag slapping up and down against her side.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Have you heard?’ Shania puffed.

‘Heard what?’

‘About Sephy?’

‘What about Sephy?’

‘She’s been beaten up,’ Shania said with relish. ‘She was found crying in the girls’ toilets, the ones next to the library.’

My heart stopped. I swear it did. Just for a second, but it did stop. I stared at Shania. I couldn’t have said a word then if my life had depended on it.

‘Serve her right!’ Shania said with glee. ‘Coming over to our table and acting like the big “I am”.’

‘She didn’t. It wasn’t like that.’ Was that really my voice, so hollow and cold?

‘Of course it was. She wanted to lord it over us, a little kid like that sitting at our table. Well, we didn’t have to teach her a thing or two; her own kind did it for us.’

I shook my head. ‘What’re you talking about?’

‘Just ’cause her dad’s in the government, that Sephy Hadley thought she’d play Lady Magnanimous and sit with us. I bet she went and scrubbed her hand after I shook it.’ Shania sniffed.

‘W-where is she now?’

‘They sent for her mum but no-one knew where she was so the chauffeur came to pick her up instead. Her mum was probably having her nails . . .’

I didn’t bother to listen to any more. I walked away whilst Shania was in mid-sentence.

‘Hey, Callum. Wait for me. D’you fancy an ice-cream at the . .?’

I started to run until my legs were moving so quickly, my feet scarcely touched the ground. I ran and ran and I didn’t stop until I was at the Hadley’s. I pressed on the bell and kept my finger on it for the fifteen or twenty seconds it took for someone to open the front door.

‘Yes?’ Sarah Pike, Mrs Hadley’s secretary, opened the door and glared at me with angry suspicion.

‘I want to see Sephy – please.’

‘I’m afraid the doctor said she’s not to be disturbed.’ Sarah tried to shut the door in my face. I stuck my foot in the door.

‘I want to see Sephy. Is she all right?’

‘She’s badly bruised and very upset. The doctor has advised that she be kept at home for the rest of the week.’

‘What happened? Why . .?’ I didn’t get any further.

‘Who is it, Sarah?’ At the sound of Mrs Hadley’s voice, Sarah almost broke my foot in her haste to shut the door. I pushed back and Sarah had to spring back to stop the door from walloping the side of her head. Mrs Hadley stopped on the stairs when she saw me. She recognized me at once.

‘You’re the McGregor boy, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right, Mrs Hadley.’ She didn’t have to say that. She knew who I was all right.

‘What can I do for you?’ Her voice dripped with frost.

‘I just heard what happened. I’d like to see Sephy, please.’

‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough.’ At my blank expression, Mrs Hadley went on, ‘I believe my daughter was beaten up for sitting at your lunch table yesterday. You must be so proud of yourself.’

I shook my head. The words wouldn’t come. I tried to think of something, anything to say – but what?

‘And as I understand it, you turned your back on her and told her to go away,’ said Mrs Hadley. ‘Is that right?’

Mrs Hadley didn’t understand. No-one understood. Not even Sephy. ‘Should I have let her sit at our table for longer then? I knew this was going to happen. That’s why I didn’t want her sitting with us. That’s the only reason.’

‘So you say.’ Mrs Hadley turned around and started to go back up the stairs.

‘If I’d welcomed her on to our table with open arms, you’d have been the first to condemn her and me as well,’ I shouted after her.

‘Sarah, see this . . . boy out. And make sure he doesn’t set foot in my house again.’ Mrs Hadley issued her orders without even turning around. She just carried on walking up the stairs in her ladylike, unhurried fashion.

‘Please let me see Sephy,’ I begged her.

‘You’re going to have to go now,’ Sarah told me apologetically.

‘Please . . .’

‘I’m sorry.’ Sarah gently but firmly kicked my foot back and shut the door.

I rubbed a weary hand over my face which was dripping with perspiration. No-one understood. No-one.

Least of all – me.

seventeen. Sephy

There was absolutely nothing on the telly. What a choice! Silly cartoons, a brainless quiz game, the news or a war film. With a sigh I plumped for the news. I looked at the screen without really watching it. The newsreader finished the story of a banker who’d been sent to prison for fraud and was now talking about three nought robbers who’d smashed in the front of an exclusive jewellery store and made off on motorbikes with gems and jewellery and watches worth close to a million. Why was it that when noughts committed criminal acts, the fact that they were noughts was always pointed out? The banker was a Cross. The newsreader didn’t even mention it.

‘Who did it?’

I turned to face my sister, Minnie.

‘Who was it, Sephy?’ she repeated. ‘Who beat you up? ’Cause whoever it was, I’ll kill them.’

I shook my head, switching off the telly before turning away. Go away, Minnie, I thought.

Her outrage was comforting, if more than a little surprising. But all I wanted was to be left alone. There were about three eyelashes over each eye that didn’t hurt. The rest of my body ached like blazes. And the last thing I wanted to do was open my sore, bruised lips to speak.

‘How many of them were there?’

I held up three fingers.

‘Would you recognize them if you saw them again?’

I shrugged.

‘Would you?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Go away.’ I was talking like my mouth was full of stones – and sharp, jagged ones at that.

‘No-one thumps my sister and gets away with it. No-one.’

‘Well, they did, and they have.’

‘I’ll find out