Checkmate (26 page)

This hotel room was beginning to feel oppressive. It almost felt like Jude and I had been swallowed whole and could do nothing but watch each other and wait to see who dissolved first. So here we both sat, bathed in a silence so stony it was bruising my nerves. And I was hurting. I had to concentrate on not moving a muscle each time the next wave of pain crested inside my body. To move would be to cry out, to scream out against this invader, devouring me from the inside out.

So I did nothing but blink. One blink for each wave of pain.

Blink. Blink.

Focus on Jude.

Don't say a word.

Don't move a muscle.

Except to blink.

I watched without interest as Jude scratched at his calf. The man had tied his shoelaces twice and scratched and rubbed his calf at least three times. What was his problem? He was watching me watching him. I had no intention of taking my eyes off him for a single second. He really was too creepy for words.

'What the hell are we waiting for?' Jude suddenly leaped to his feet to shout at me.

I admit it, he made me jump. I started to my feet, only to change my mind. The less I moved the better. I was hurting too much.

'Sit down, Jude.'

'You know what, I've had enough of this.'

'I said, sit down,' I ordered.

'Suppose I told you to do your worst?' Jude challenged. 'Suppose I don't think you'll really press that switch?'

I regarded him. 'Suppose you don't try your luck, then who knows, you might just make it out of here alive.'

'I thought the outcome of this . . . this farce was a foregone conclusion,' said Jude, through narrowed eyes.

'In my experience, there's no such thing,' I told him.

He flopped down in his chair and sat back, frustration at not having the upper hand gnawing away at him like a ravenous rat.

'When is this company you were talking about going to arrive?'

'Soon,' I replied.

With perfect timing, there came a sharp rap at the door. In the silence of the room, it resounded like machine-gun fire. I almost turned my head to look in the direction of the door.

Almost.

Three sharp taps, followed by two, then one. The prearranged signal. I struggled to my feet, my finger never leaving the switch.

'Jude, could you get that please?'

Eyeing me carefully, Jude got to his feet. I kept half an eye on his face and one and a half eyes on what his hands were doing.

'Put your hands on your head please until you reach the door.' I was most polite – which was more than this creature deserved.

Jude complied. He walked before me, his hands on his head. With his back towards me, I slipped my free hand into my left jacket pocket and fished out a couple of the morphine sulphate painkillers I'd emptied into my pocket earlier. I wasn't due to take one for at least another hour, but what the hell! As he reached the door, I said, 'Keep one hand on your head and use the other to open the door. When the door is open, put your free hand back on your head. And no funny business. I'm really not in the mood.'

Jude did as I asked but his free hand slowed and stilled on its way back to the top of his head when he saw who was at the door.

'Hello, son,' said Meggie.

'Mum?'

What was she doing here? Very rarely did she turn up at my hotel room unannounced. What a moment to break the habits of a lifetime.

'Hello, Meggie,' Jasmine said from behind me. 'Jude, could you move back to your previous seat please?'

But I hardly heard her. Mum was standing in the doorway. And though I hadn't seen her in a while, she'd hardly changed. A few more lines around her eyes, a few more white hairs perhaps.

'Jude, could you return to your chair please?' said Jasmine.

'Let me in, Jude,' said Mum.

My hands still on the top of my head, I returned to my seat. Now what? What was Mum doing here? Whatever the reason, she was more than welcome. No way would Mum let mad-cow Jasmine harm me. No way. Mum was a McGregor. And when it came to the McGregors against the Hadleys, there were no grey areas, no blurred lines. Mum knew that. She might dote on Callie Rose, but Callie Rose wasn't here
–
and I was.

Now I just had to wait for the right opportunity to present itself. I'd strike and Mum would be right behind me. Letting Mum in was the first mistake Jasmine had made. It might very well prove to be her last.

The noise in the food hall was cacophonous. And I loved it. I loved the sound of busy and bustling. I let it wash through me as I picked at my soggy cabbage and overcooked potatoes. I loved loud. At home, when I was doing my homework, I played my music just as loud as I could get away with. Loud enough to drown out any unwelcome thoughts that might try to swim to the surface. And there were a lot of those at the moment.

'The article in the
Science Today
journal said that the military tried to develop a chemical agent they could spray into the air which would cause Noughts to have nose bleeds but nothing would happen to Crosses . . .' Tobey was droning on and on about the latest edition of his monthly science magazine.

I sighed inwardly. I was beginning to dread the arrival of Tobey's ruddy magazine. He'd spend a day reading it, followed by a week of discussing each and every article with me like I gave a monkey's fart what the thing said. I looked around. Amyas was at the front of the food queue. He was so tall now. I couldn't believe how much he'd shot up in the summer holidays. His face was leaner and longer and it suited him, and the rest of his body wasn't too bad either. He was certainly tastier than the washed-out cabbage I was pushing round my plate.

'Rose, are you listening to me?' said Tobey.

'Don't you think Amyas is lush?' I asked Tobey, my eyes still on the food queue.

'Can't see it myself,' Tobey said sourly.

'That's 'cause you're not looking,' I told him, still studying his lushness.

'How many fingers am I holding up, Rose?' asked Tobey. For the first time since I'd spotted Amyas, I looked at Tobey, only to instantly regret it. He was using his fingers to be his usual charming self.

'What's your problem?' I asked.

'Oh, for God's sake!' Tobey snapped. 'If you could tear your eyes away from Mr Bumface for two seconds you might discover what time of day it is.'

I glanced down at my watch. 'It's one forty or thirteen forty hours.'

'What's happened to you?' asked Tobey. 'You never used to be all "girlie"!'

'It's called growing up, Tobey. It's called
hormones,'
I told him loftily.

It's called needing something, someone, anyone to dream about.

'Stuff this!' Tobey sprang up. 'If you think I'm going to sit here and watch you bat your eyelashes at that cretin, then you've got another think coming.'

Tobey picked up his tray and strode away from me in a right strop. What was up with him? What was up with
us
come to that? The older we got, the less I understood him. Was this something to do with getting older or were we just drifting apart?

'Hi, Rose. Lost your shadow then?'

'Huh?' I stared stupidly at Lucas, who appeared from nowhere to stand in front of me with some of his friends, Axel and Jack – and Amyas. Inside I groaned. His Chronic Lushness was standing before me and all I could say was – huh!

Tobey Durbrain. He
is
your shadow, isn't he?'

'They're in love!' said Axel. What an idiot!

'Don't be ridiculous. As if I'd ever have Tobey as my boyfriend. We're just friends, that's all – and barely that at the moment.' The words were more dismissive than I'd meant them to be, but I didn't want Amyas to get the wrong idea. Then Lucas, Amyas and the others started laughing, but it wasn't directed at me. My antennae started to quiver. I turned sharply, just in time to see Tobey turn away. And though I only caught his face in profile, I saw enough.

'Tobey, wait.'

With the laughter of Lucas and the others pushing me forward, I ran after Tobey.

'Tobey, I didn't mean that the way it sounded,' I said.

'Thanks for sticking up for me, Callie Rose. I really appreciate it,' Tobey said, with quiet bitterness.

At that moment, I felt I'd have to stretch up to scratch an amoeba's kneecaps.

'I just meant we're always arguing these days,' I tried to explain. 'That's all I meant.'

'And you think that's why I'm upset?'

'Well, yes. What else have you got to be upset about?'

'You really don't know, do you?' said Tobey.

'What have I done?'

'Nothing,' said Tobey. 'You haven't done anything or said anything. And I didn't expect anything else.'

'I don't understand.'

'I know you don't,' said Tobey. 'That's the problem.'

And this time when he walked away from me, I let him go. Because I was wrong about the tone of his voice and the look on his face. It wasn't bitterness he was directing at me. It was something far stronger and much deeper.

'You do realize that Jordy Carson is never going to leave you alone,' I said, sweeping up the last of the glass. 'I know his type. He's got the scent of blood in his nostrils and he's not going to stop.'

'Now tell me something I don't know,' said Nathan with understandable tetchiness.

'So what're you going to do about it?'

Nathan emptied his dustpan full of broken glass into the large cardboard box, liberally lined with crumpled newspapers. I looked around Specimens. Jordy's cronies had done a better than average demolition job on the place. The last time they'd done this, we were up and running again in a couple of days. This time it would take longer. And Jordy's tactics were beginning to work. This was the third time there'd been a 'break in' at Specimens where nothing had been stolen but the place had been trashed. It was getting almost impossible for Nathan to get insurance on the place any more. And his staff turnover rate had to be eligible for entry in
The World Book of Records.
Jordy Carson had been very clever. This way he got the best of both worlds. Nathan was going broke rapidly, losing days having to fix up the place, some of our regular clients were staying away and the staff were leaving anyway. And it was so frustrating to sit at my piano, sing cover versions and watch it all happen.

I slowly became aware of Nathan watching me.

'Sephy, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to let you go.'

'What? Why?'

'Look at the place.' Nathan indicated. 'It's not safe. And I don't want you in the middle of this.'

'I'm a big girl now,' I told him. 'I can take care of myself.'

'Not against the likes of Carson and his lot. They don't play by any rules you've ever heard of.'

'I'm not leaving, Nathan.'

'Then you're fired.'

'Then I'll sing just inside the restaurant door or sing from the toilets as a patron if I have to. You can't stop me doing that.'

'I could have you thrown out as a nut job!'

'If you throw me out, I'll come straight back in.'

Nathan stared at me. 'Are you serious?'

'What d'you think?'

'God, you're stubborn.'

I grinned at him. 'I know.'

'Persephone, listen. Bless you for wanting to stick by me but this place is just bricks and mortar—'

'And years of your life and sweat and tears,' I interrupted.

'But there's nothing here that I couldn't walk away from if I had to. I'll just move to another town and open up a new bar and restaurant. Everything here is replaceable. You're not,' said Nathan.

Surprised, I regarded Nathan. The last thing I wanted was for him to capitulate to a low-life, pond-slime weasel like Jordy Carson because of me.

'You're worrying too much—'

'It's not just you. All my staff are irreplaceable and I'm not going to take any more chances. Sooner rather than later, Jordy Carson is going to move on from breaking the furniture and start breaking bones,' said Nathan. 'If I don't let Jordy have what he wants, someone is going to end up on a slab.'

'But you can't just let him win,' I urged. 'You can't just let him have it all without a fight.'

'Don't worry, Sephy. I still have a trick or two up my sleeve.'

'As long as your tricks don't—' My mobile phone started to ring.

Impatiently, I flicked it open. Minerva was phoning me. It had to be serious then. My sister never phoned just to chat. I pressed the button to answer the call.

'Hang on, Nathan. It's my sister,' I told him before talking into the phone. 'Hi, Minerva. What's up?'

Our conversation lasted less than five minutes. But they had to be amongst the worst five minutes of my life.

'Sephy? What is it? What's happened?' asked Nathan. 'Your face has gone ashen.'

'I have to go, Nathan,' I said. I propped my broom against the bar in a daze.

'Has something happened to Callie Rose?' Nathan took hold of my arm and turned me round to face him.

I shook my head. My head felt so strange, like I had sleepwalked my way into a new world and I couldn't understand anything that was going on.

'I have to go . . . ' I said.

'I'll take you,' said Nathan.

'No, I—'

'You're in no fit state to drive,' Nathan insisted. 'Has your sister had an accident?'

I shook my head again. 'It's not Minerva, it's Mother. She's in hospital.'