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

which I don’t believe for one second – that doesn’t mean that Callum . . .’

‘Oh, Persephone. Grow up.’ The rebuke didn’t come from my sister. Mother shook her head at me before she stood up and left the room.

‘You haven’t a clue about the real world, have you?’ Minnie said, her voice dripping with contempt.

‘Congratulations! You sound just like Mother,’ I took malicious delight in telling her.

Minnie said something incredibly unladylike and flounced out of the room. I smirked at her disappearing back until the door was shut. Then my smile faded. I stared at the closed door, feeling totally alone. What was it about me that made everyone do that? Walk out. Leave. Abandon me. After dismissing me. Why did what I said and did invariably drive everyone away.

Mother. Minnie. Even Callum.

But I was right about this one. Callum’s dad wasn’t the Dundale bomber.

Mother and Minnie were wrong. And I was going to prove it. I just had to figure out how.

sixty-two. Callum

After only about five minutes of waiting, Mum and I were shown in to Mr Stanhope’s plush office. His secretary had told Mum that it was ‘urgent’ and ‘about the case’ but that was all she said. Mum and I both had the same question – ‘What case?’ The last time we’d seen Mr Stanhope, which was three days ago now, he’d told us quite categorically that he wasn’t going to take the case.

‘Mrs McGregor, Callum, please take a seat.’ Mr Stanhope was all smiles from the moment we set foot inside his hallowed walls. One look at his face and my heart began to thump with painfully suppressed hope.

‘You have some news?’ Mum asked eagerly. ‘Are they going to let Ryan go?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ Mr Stanhope’s smile faded slightly, his voice full of regret. ‘Your husband still insists that he’s guilty.’

And just like that the hope inside was all but snuffed out. Again. Why had he asked us here then?

‘I’ve been trying to get in touch with you at your home address but there’s been no reply,’ Mr Stanhope told us.

‘We’re not at our house any more,’ Mum glanced at me. ‘We’re staying with my sister, Charlotte, on the other side of Meadowview.’

‘You’ve been getting hate letters?’ Mr Stanhope asked sharply.

‘Amongst other things,’ I scoffed. Like bricks through the window and death threats.

‘Well, I’m happy to tell you that I will now be able to take on your husband’s case,’ Mr Stanhope told Mum. ‘And the really good news is, I’ve persuaded Kelani Adams QC to take the case – not that she took much persuading.’

‘Kelani Adams!’ Mum was astounded. And she wasn’t the only one. Kelani Adams was not just a nationally renowned but a world-renowned barrister. A Cross barrister. Why would any Cross take on Dad’s case? ‘I can’t afford a lawyer like Kelani Adams.’ She shook her head.

‘Don’t worry about that. That’s all taken care of.’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked, before Mum could.

‘It means, it’s all taken care of,’ Mr Stanhope frowned at me.

Mum and I exchanged a long look.

‘I’d appreciate it if you answered my son’s question properly,’ Mum said.

‘An anonymous benefactor has stepped forward with a very generous sum of money, and a promise of however much more is necessary to ensure that your husband gets the fairest trial possible.’ Mr McGregor picked his way carefully through the words.

‘We don’t take charity, Mr Stanhope,’ Mum said, tightlipped.

‘It’s not charity,’ Mr Stanhope shot back. ‘I was told to inform you of that in the strongest possible terms.’

‘By who?’ Mum asked.

‘As I said, I received a banker’s cheque and a typewritten, unsigned note with certain instructions,’ said Mr Stanhope.

‘May I see the note?’

‘I’m afraid not. One of the conditions on it was that you shouldn’t be allowed to see it.’

‘I see.’

I’m glad she did, ’cause I sure as hell didn’t.

‘Mrs McGregor, this is your husband’s one and only chance to emerge from this case a free man. I would strongly advise you to take it.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ Mum said slowly. ‘The only reason you’re still involved in this case is because someone has paid you to stay involved – is that right?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that . . .’

‘And the only reason Kelani Adams is involved is because she’s being paid a great deal of money – is that right?’

‘No,’ Mr Stanhope said at once. ‘The money allowed me to approach the best and she’s it. The best does not come cheaply. Once she’d read your husband’s file, she was more than prepared to take the case.’

‘And I’m meant to be grateful for that, am I?’

‘If gratitude is too much to ask, then your acceptance of the situation is all that will be required,’ said Mr Stanhope.

Mum turned to me. ‘Callum?’

It was hard to be asked for my opinion. Part of me wanted to leave it all down to Mum. Lynette was gone, Jude had disappeared, Dad was in prison and Mum and I were left floundering on our own. I wanted Mum to turn to me and tell me that everything would be OK again. I wanted her to make all the decisions, even the wrong ones. Especially the wrong ones.

‘Mum, I think we should do whatever it takes to get Dad out of prison,’ I said at last.

‘OK then,’ Mum said to the solicitor. ‘I’ll go ahead with whatever you and Ms Adams suggest. But first of all I’d like to speak to my husband as soon as possible.’ She looked from me to Mr Stanhope. ‘Alone.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ came the solicitor’s reply.

And all I could do was hope that Mum and I weren’t making a big, big mistake. Not just for our sakes – but for Dad’s as well.

But for me the most sickeningly humbling thing of all was I knew who had sent the money to Mr Stanhope.

Sephy.

I had no idea how she’d done it. And I had even less idea how I