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

was ever going to thank her, never mind repay her. But I would. I sat in Mr Stanhope’s office, on his expensive brown leather chair and swore an oath before God that I would pay her back. If it took me every penny I earned for the rest of my life, I would repay her.

sixty-three. Sephy

I came home from school and got the shock of my life. Dad’s suitcases were in our hallway.

‘Dad? DAD?’

‘I’m in here, Princess.’

I raced into the family room, following Dad’s voice like I was tied to it.

I leapt into his arms.

‘Dad! I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Dad swung me around – at least he tried to. ‘Good grief! What have you been eating?’ he exclaimed, dropping me. ‘You weigh a ton!’

‘Thanks!’ I giggled with pure joy. Dad was home. Dad was back. ‘Are you staying for good?’

‘For a while at least,’ Dad nodded.

But not in my direction. For the first time I saw that we weren’t alone.

Mother was sitting in her rocking-chair, moving slowly backwards and forwards as she watched us.

‘What . . . what’s going on?’ I asked.

‘Ask your father. He has all the answers,’ Mother replied.

I clicked then. Clicked on and died inside. Dad wasn’t back for Mother. He wasn’t back for any of us. Ryan McGregor and politics were the ones who’d brought him home – nothing else.

‘You’re only here until after the trial, aren’t you?’ I asked Dad.

‘The trial of the century’ was what the newspapers and the telly were calling it. They should call it the miracle trial of the millennium if it managed to bring Dad back home.

‘It’s all up in the air,’ Dad smiled, stroking my cheek. ‘Nothing’s decided.’

I took one look at Mother and I knew that was a lie. At least, she believed it was a lie, which was probably the same thing.

sixty-four. Callum

‘Ah, Callum. Come in.’

I was seeing a lot of plush offices this week. First Mr Stanhope, now Mr Costa, our headmaster. It was only the second time I’d been in Mr Costa’s office. Crosses seemed to be big on mahogany! And his carpet was like walking on spring grass, soft and bouncy and lush. Mr Costa sat down behind his mahogany desk and leaned back, then leaned forward, his elbows on his table as he tried to figure out which would be the most favourable position. His chair was more like a throne than otherwise, making the headmaster seem even more imposing. The sunshine shone through his crystal-clear windows behind him, making him even darker, like he was a powerful silhouette.

‘Sit down please.’

I sat down in one of his squeaky leather chairs.

‘Callum, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to get right to the point.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Until the matter regarding your father is satisfactorily resolved . . .’

The alarm bells now pealing in my head were deafening.

‘The governors and I have decided that it would serve everyone’s best interests if you were suspended for a while.’

So that was that. I was out.

‘I’m guilty until my dad’s proven innocent? Is that the way it works?’

‘Callum, I do hope you’re going to be reasonable about this.’

‘Should I empty my locker now or will the end of the day be soon enough?’

‘That’s entirely up to you.’ Mr Costa folded his arms and sat back in his chair.

‘You must be so thrilled,’ I told him bitterly. ‘Three down, only one more to go.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning Colin has gone and you couldn’t wait to get rid of Shania and now it’s my turn.’

‘Shania was expelled for gross misconduct,’ Mr Costa said haughtily.

‘Shania only slapped Gardner Wilson because he hit her first,’ I shouted at him. ‘And everyone knows that, including you. How come Shania gets expelled and Gardner gets away with a telling off? Why isn’t it gross misconduct when a Cross does it?’

It was the same story up and down the country. In the few schools into which us noughts had been allowed, we were dropping like flies. Expelled, or what the authorities euphemistically called ‘excluded’, for those things which would get Crosses detention or a severe telling off. The odd Cross or two may even have got suspended once in a while. But they certainly weren’t being expelled with anything like the frequency we were.

‘I have no intention of justifying school policy to you.’ Mr Costa stood up. Our meeting was at an end. ‘We’ll be happy to review your situation once the dust from all this clears.’

But the dust was never going to clear, was it? And we both knew that.

‘Good luck to you, Callum.’ Mr Costa held out his hand.

‘Yeah, right!’ I looked at his hand with disdain.

Good luck to me, as long as it was somewhere else. The further away the better. As far as Mr Costa was concerned, I had already gone. I stood up and marched out of the room. I wanted to slam the door shut behind me, bring it off its hinges, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying, ‘See! I was right about him. Behaved just as I thought he would.’

And then I thought better of it. I turned back and slammed the door as hard as I could. I only just got my fingers out of the way in time but it was worth it. It was a futile gesture, but it made me feel good.

I strode down the corridor. Mr Costa came thundering out of his room.

‘Callum, come here.’

I carried on walking.

‘I said, come back here,’ Mr Costa called after me, furiously.

I smiled – and carried on walking. I wasn’t part of his school any more. I didn’t have to do what he said. I wasn’t part of the whole Cross way of life. Why should I do what any of them said? Only when I heard Mr Costa slam back into his office did I slow down. My throat had swollen up from the inside out. I was being