Double Cross (34 page)

Dropping my letter in the postbox outside the hospital, I
headed into the building. Five minutes later, I took a deep
breath and walked into Callie's room. Every cell in my
body told me this was a bad idea, but I needed to see her.
Her head was turned away from the door. She was looking
out of the window towards the park beyond. I stood in the
doorway, watching her, drinking in her stillness. Apart
from the occasional blink, no other part of her body
beneath the bedcovers moved.

'Hello, Callie,' I said softly.

'Hello, Tobey,' Callie replied without looking at me.

That hurt. I swallowed hard before I could trust myself
to speak again.

'May I come in?'

Callie nodded.

I entered the room and sat in one of the chairs by her
bed. She still wasn't looking at me.

'How're you feeling?' I asked. 'Have you remembered
a bit more?'

Like the night we spent together?

Please remember being with me, Callie. Please
remember making love with me. Otherwise I'll start to
doubt my own memories. I'm already beginning to
wonder. Maybe the whole thing was a dream, wishful
thinking, nothing more than a fantasy.

Callie shrugged. How I wished she'd look at me.

'How's Rebecca?' she asked.

All kinds of explanations raced through my head. But
that's where they stayed.

'She's fine,' I replied. 'We're having dinner once I leave
here.'

Godsake! Why did I say that? To get a reaction? Because
I have a big mouth? Or, God help me, to get back at Callie
for not remembering our night together?

Callie turned to look at me. I had to force myself not to
look away.

'Will I get to meet her?'

I shrugged. We regarded each other.

'My doctor says I can go home later today,' said Callie.
'Once I'm strong enough, maybe you, me and Rebecca
can get together.'

'OK,' I agreed, knowing full well it'd never happen.

Rebecca wasn't stupid. One look at Callie and she'd
know which way the wind was blowing. Head bent,
Callie laced her bedsheet in and out of her fingers. She
wasn't the only one who was nervous.

'I've got most of my memory back now,' she said,
looking at me again. 'I still don't remember the time
around the shooting. But I remember everything else.'

'Oh.'

The time around the shooting? How did Callie quantify
that? Two minutes before the shooting, or two hours or
two days or two weeks before?

'Is that it?' she asked. 'Is that all you have to say?'

'What would you like me to say?' I asked.

Silence. The tension between us expanded like a
balloon too full of air. An explosion was about to happen.
I didn't have long to wait.

'Tobey,' My name burst from Callie's lips. 'Why did
you—?'

Sephy and Meggie chose just that moment to walk in.
Thank goodness for bad timing. Callie's look of frustration
didn't go unnoticed. Sephy kissed her daughter's forehead
before sitting down. Meggie did the same.

Sephy glared at me, her brown eyes giving me frostbite.

'Hello, Tobey,' said Meggie.

'Hello.' I wasn't sure what else to say.

I knew I should leave, but I didn't want to. Not now.
Not yet. Meggie looked from Callie to me and back again.
She sighed.

'Callie, I . . . I have something to tell you,' she began.
'And I don't want to put it off any longer.' She and Sephy
exchanged a look before she continued. 'It's about . . . Jude.'

Callie flinched as if the word was a physical thing that
had struck her.

'Tobey told me that you're . . . worried my son is alive
and that he'll come after you.'

Though Callie didn't reply, Meggie had her full
attention. I watched Callie avidly.

'Tobey, could you wait for us outside, please,' said
Sephy. And it wasn't a request.

'No, Mum. I want Tobey to stay,' said Callie.

'But this is private family business,' Sephy began.

'I have no secrets from Tobey.' Callie looked at me as
she spoke, her expression sombre. The words were said
almost in a monotone, yet she still managed to make it
sound like an accusation. Then she sighed. 'Will you stay,
Tobey?'

I nodded. I wasn't going anywhere. Not whilst Callie
needed me.

Meggie took a deep breath, closed her eyes momentarily,
then spoke. 'Callie, love, Jude is dead. He died in
the Isis Hotel bomb blast along with Jasmine.'

Callie shook her head. 'Uncle Jude isn't dead. The news
said some man called Robert Powers . . .'

'Robert Powers was the alias Jude used. My son was
infamous, notorious – and proud of it.' Bitterness hardened
Meggie's voice. 'He knew that he wasn't going to
die in bed of old age. He set up an alternate identity,
complete with dental and doctor's records, a driver's
licence, the works – and all under the name Robert
Powers.'

'But how could he get an ID card and driver's licence?'
asked Sephy. 'You have to produce a birth certificate to
obtain those.'

'The real Robert Powers was born in the same year as
Jude and killed over fifteen years ago in a road accident.
Apparently it's a well-known Liberation Militia tactic. Send
off for the birth certificate of someone who has died and
then use it to get all kinds of official documentation like
passports,' said Meggie. 'So that's who Jude became and I
was sworn to secrecy. He told me that if anything happened
to him, his false ID would make sure that I wasn't hounded
by the police and the press.'

'But the police must've had Uncle Jude's fingerprints.'
It was as if Callie was afraid to let herself believe it. 'They
had to be on a police database somewhere.'

'Callie, the explosion took out the top floor of
the hotel. Jude's body was too badly damaged to identify
using fingerprints. All the police had to work with
were some teeth to match to dental records,' said
Meggie. 'Please believe me, Callie, my son and Robert
Powers are . . . were . . . one and the same person. I
paid anonymously for Robert Powers's headstone. I even
visit his grave occasionally to lay some flowers. Jude
is dead.'

Meggie bowed her head. Sephy slipped an arm around
her shoulder and whispered some words of comfort into
her ear. I glanced across at Callie. Tears were flowing
down her cheeks like a waterfall. I sprang up to go to her,
but she shook her head, impatiently wiping the tears from
her face.

'I'm OK,' she told me. 'I need to do this, before I bottle
out.'

I knew what was coming. I moved to stand beside
Callie's bed. Sephy looked from me to Callie, suspicion
creeping into her eyes.

'Callie?' she prompted.

'Nana Meggie, you need to know something,' Callie
began, fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks. 'The bomb
that killed Uncle Jude and Nana Jasmine, I . . . I m-made
it.'

Meggie stood up slowly and bent to kiss Callie's
forehead. 'I know,' she said.

Callie stared at her. 'You . . . you know?'

'I've always known.'

'I don't understand.' Callie shook her head. 'Did Mum
tell you? Why did you never say anything?'

'Your mum never said a word.' Meggie hastened to
reassure her.

'Besides, what was there to say?' asked Sephy, as she
moved to stand next to Meggie. 'I didn't realize what
Mother was going to do until it was too late. I thought
. . . Well, it doesn't matter what I thought.'

'Nana Meggie, how did you know if Mum didn't tell
you?' asked Callie.

'Jasmine told me what my son was making you do,'
said Meggie. 'She got in touch with me . . . and
told me.'

'Do you know what happened that day?' Callie asked.
'Did Nana Jasmine decide to confront Uncle Jude? Did
the bomb go off by accident?'

Callie turned to me, uncertainty written on her face, so
she missed the swift look Sephy and Meggie exchanged.
But I didn't. Callie's mum and grandma were both hiding
something.

'Mum?' Callie prompted.

Sephy said gently, 'Love, I wasn't there. I was with you,
remember? But I'm sure it happened something like that.
Callie, you mustn't blame yourself.'

Meggie added, 'It was an accident, love.'

'You think so?' Callie whispered. 'You really think it
was an accident?'

Sephy and Meggie glanced at each other again. There
was so much shared history between them that all they
needed was a passing look to exchange volumes.

'Callie, we love you very much,' said Meggie. 'And
Jasmine felt the same. She went to confront my son
and . . . and the bomb went off. And the last person you
should blame is yourself. I knew what my son was. So did
Jasmine. He's responsible for what happened, not you.'

'But two people died . . .' Callie began.

'An accident. A tragic accident and not your fault,'
Sephy insisted.

'Mum, did you know what Nana Jasmine was going to
do when she left us in her house on my birthday?' asked
Callie.

'Of course not. I would've stopped her,' Sephy said.

Callie was too busy looking at her mum to notice the
look in Meggie's eyes at that question. With a start, I
realized that even if Sephy hadn't known what Jasmine
was up to, Meggie did. Meggie glanced at me. In that
instant I knew the truth. And Meggie knew I knew. But I
would never, ever tell Callie – and that was a fact.

'Mum, do you hate me?' Callie whispered.

'Oh, sweetheart, of course I don't hate you.' Sephy
swept Callie into her arms. 'I told you before, there's
nothing on this earth or beyond that could make me
hate you.'

Callie and her mum hugged each other for a long time.
When at last Callie let go, she turned to Meggie.

'Nana Meggie, I'm so sorry,' she said. 'I never meant for
Uncle Jude or Nana Jasmine to get hurt. I was so lost and
confused, I didn't know what I was doing.'

'I understand, dear,' said Meggie. 'All I want in this
world is for you to stop blaming yourself.'

'Easier said than done,' Callie told her.

'But you've got to try,' said Meggie. 'Jude is dead,
Callie. Don't let him ruin the rest of your life. You have
to do what I did and let him go.'

Meggie looked down at the bed, but her gaze was
somewhere in the past. An unhappy past. A couple of
blinks later and she was back in the present, but her eyes
still held a profound sorrow I was only just beginning to
understand. Sephy stroked her daughter's hair. Meggie
forced a smile. And though Callie tried to smile, it
wobbled precariously on her face.

She turned to me, and the look in her eyes made my
throat tighten so much I could hardly breathe. 'Tobey,
you're going to be late for your dinner date,' she said
quietly.

'I don't mind staying.'

'It's OK. I'm OK – or I will be. You should go.'

I knew a dismissal when I heard one. But even so, I
couldn't help asking, 'Are you sure?'

Callie nodded. 'I'll see you . . . when I see you.'

And she turned away from me. Deliberately. Sephy
watched me, a satisfied expression on her face.

I left Callie's room. Sephy followed me. Closing the
door behind her, she walked a few paces along the
corridor so that there was no chance of us being seen
through Callie's window.

'As you can see, my daughter is now awake,' she said.
'So you needn't feel you have to visit her any more. I
found out from one of the nurses that you've been here
almost every day, in spite of what I told you.'

'How could I stay away? Callie is my best friend—'

'Oh, please,' Sephy scoffed.

'She is. I'd do anything for her.'

The look Sephy gave me was withering.

'It's true,' I insisted.

'Tobey, how stupid d'you think I am? D'you really
think I'm going to stand idly by and watch you hurt my
daughter?'

'I'd never do that—'

'But you did, Tobey. And you're still doing it. Don't
forget, I saw you and your new girlfriend.'

'And you told Callie?'

Sephy's eyes narrowed. 'I didn't tell my daughter a
damn thing. You did enough boasting about your new
girlfriend on your own.'

'Rebecca isn't my girlfriend.'

'Tell that to her tongue and her tonsils,' Sephy replied
with sarcasm. 'What is it with you? Off with the old and
on with the new? Then keep the old as backup? Well, not
where my daughter is concerned.'

'If you'd just let me explain . . .'

'Go on then.' Sephy folded her arms as she waited.

But I had nothing – at least nothing that was safe to
share. No explanations. No excuses. No reasons. Nothing.

'That's what I thought.' Sephy's voice dripped with
contempt. 'Tobey, you obviously don't feel the same way
about my daughter as she does about you. So do us all a
favour and leave her alone.'

'That's not true,' I said. 'I . . . I do care about
Callie.'

'Oh, spare me your lukewarm protestations.' Sephy
raised both hands, her palms towards me as if she was
warding me off. 'You know what, Tobey? I'm not getting
into a debate with you. Callie doesn't need your
guilt-inspired visits. I believe my daughter just made her
feelings clear on that subject. I know I have.'