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

Mother and Dad then I would’ve. But one person, especially someone like me, never made a difference to a ruddy thing. At last I found the remote and sat back down on the sofa, growing more angry with each passing second. Minnie drove me nuts with her constant moods and her sulky behaviour. In fact, if she thought . . .

‘Sephy, phone for an ambulance. Quick!’

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I took the stairs, two and three at a time, following the sound of Minnie’s voice. I ran into Minnie’s bedroom but it was empty. I dashed into Mother’s bedroom across the landing and stopped suddenly like I’d hit an invisible brick wall. Mum was slumped on the floor, a tablet bottle by her side with a few scattered pills on the carpet. A very few pills. Minnie cradled Mum’s head on her lap, frantically stroking her hair and calling her name.

‘An ambulance. Now!’ Minnie screamed at me.

I ran along the landing to the phone, shock freezing my eyes wide open. Mother had tried to kill herself.

My mother had tried to kill herself . . .

thirty-eight. Callum

There was something wrong with me. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I sat on my bed and stared into nothing and I couldn’t cry. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head – and nothing. I lay on my stomach, burying my face into my pillow, waiting for the tears to start. But they didn’t. My sister was dead and I couldn’t feel a thing. My head still buried in my pillow, I clenched my fists and stuck them under it so I wouldn’t do something silly like punch the wall or the headboard. My fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. I sat up and lifted up my pillow. There was an envelope with Callum written on it in my sister’s neat, tiny writing. Shock, hot and electric, shot through me. I picked it up. The letter dropped to the floor. I stared down at it, unable to believe my eyes.

‘Lynny?’ I whispered, confused.

I looked around, expecting to see her standing in my bedroom doorway, smiling at me, ‘Gotcha!’ all over her face. But the room was empty. What should I do? I bent down and picked up the letter between two trembling fingers. I was desperate to know what it said, but at the same time, I was terrified. Count to three and then do it. I got to two, then tore open the letter. My heart hammering, I began to read.

Dear Callum,

This is a very hard letter to write but I wanted you of all people to know the truth. By now, if I’m very lucky and God is very good, I won’t be around any more. I’m tired and I want out, it’s as simple as that. I’ve tried to think of the best way to do this and I think walking in front of a bus or a tram or a train is the easiest. A car is too hit and miss! See! My sense of humour has come back, along with my sanity. The return of my sanity, I can stand. It’s the return to reality that I can’t cope with.

I’ll try to make it look like an accident so that I don’t shame Mum and Dad but I wanted you to know the truth. I’m not ashamed of who I am any more, but I don’t want to live in a world where what I am isn’t good enough, where nothing I do will ever be good enough because I’m a nought and I always will be and nothing will ever change that. I hope you and Sephy have more luck than Jed and me – if that’s what you want. Take care of yourself. And whatever life throws at you, be strong. Be strong for both of us.

All my love,

Lynette

Lynny . .

I stared down at the letter in my hand. The words blurred and swam before me. I didn’t have to read it a second or a third time. Once was more than enough. Crumpling the letter in my hand, I squeezed it smaller and smaller. I squeezed it like my heart was being squeezed. I sat perfectly still, for a minute, an hour, I don’t know how long. Long enough for the pain in my throat to subside. Long enough for my eyes to stop smarting. And only when I could trust myself not to hurt so much, only then did I move. I tore the letter into a hundred pieces and let them fall to the floor like paper rain.

For the first time in my life I hated my sister. Hated her. She’d given in. She’d given up on life and left me to live it for the both of us. All my love . . . Was that all love did for you? Made you give up and give in? Left you open to pain and hurt? If it was, I swore that nothing would ever make me do the same as her.

Nothing.

thirty-nine. Sephy

Minnie and I sat together, her arm around my shoulder.

‘Minerva . .?’

‘Shush!’ Minnie whispered. ‘Mother will be all right. You’ll see. She’ll be fine.’

I looked up and down the carpeted corridor. The place looked more like a hotel than a hospital. Did they really know what they were doing? And where was Mother? They’d only let us in the ambulance because Minnie had insisted and kept her hand in Mother’s all the time. And the moment we arrived, Minnie and I had been ushered to a waiting area whilst Mother was put on a trolley and wheeled off somewhere else. The minutes ticked, ticked, ticked by – and still nothing. No word, no nurses, no doctors, nothing.

I looked down at my twisting hands in my lap.

Please, God . . . Please . . .

‘Minerva? Persephone? Ah, there you are,’ Juno Ayelette,