Knife Edge (30 page)

A sudden, strange, sad fatigue swirled round me like a gossamer shroud. I stood up abruptly.

Shake it off, Callie Rose. Get it together.

'Are you all right, love?' Nana Jasmine frowned.

I nodded. 'Just got one or two things on my mind, that's all.'

'Well, help me bring up the bottles from the cellar and then I'll leave you in peace,' smiled Nana. 'Give me a hug first.'

I was about to argue – why did I need to hug her before bringing up a few wine bottles? But then I remembered . . . How could I have forgotten? Nana Jasmine stood up and put her arms around me. For once, my arms didn't dangle at my sides like overcooked spaghetti. I hugged her back, breathing her in.

Saying goodbye.

Leaving my bag on the floor, I let Nana lead the way across the kitchen and down the stairs to the cellar. My bag would be safe enough with both of us in the cellar together. The cellar door was already unbolted. Nana Jasmine pulled on the handle with both hands, her lips a thin line with the effort it cost her to move the heavy door. I placed my hands beside Nana Jasmine's and opened the door with her. It didn't creak or groan. The door, like the rest of Nana Jasmine's household was too well oiled to make any kind of vulgar protest. To squeak would've been 'bad grammar'. And Nana Jasmine wasn't into that. The door itself was solid oak, nearly three metres tall. Snaking, almost sneaking across the door from the wrought-iron hinges, was black iron scrollwork. Nana Jasmine stood to one side so that I would walk past her.

'So where are these bottles?' I asked.

'The Chateau D'Azonama 'ninety-five is at the other end of the cellar,' said Nana. 'Four. . . no, five bottles should be enough. Let's go and get them.'

I headed down the narrow aisle between rack upon rack of vintage wine on either side of me. The racks were lined up like elemental soldiers, with the wine bottles lying prone. But as I approached the far end of the cellar, I got the shock of my life. Someone came out from behind one of the tall racks of wine. I recognized her even before she turned to face me. I stopped abruptly. What the hell was she doing here? I'd sworn never to even stay in the same room as her again and I meant it. I spun round, ready to make for the door – only to stop abruptly for the second time.

Nana Jasmine was pushing the cellar door shut.

'Nana . . . ?'

'I'm sorry, love, but I can't let you do any more of Jude's dirty work,' said Nana Jasmine as the door continued to close. 'I love you, Callie Rose McGregor. Don't ever forget that.'

And in the next instant the cellar door was closed. I sprinted for the door, practically diving for the door handle just as the bolts were being slid home from the outside. The sound of the bolts was more final, more resounding than the peal of funeral bells.

I was too late. Panic rose up, searing and unstoppable like erupting lava.

'NANA JASMINE, OPEN THIS DOOR!' I pushed down the large metal handle, then pushed at the door, but I was wasting my time.

'LET ME OUT!' I screamed.

Beyond the door, I could hear nothing but silence. Not even footsteps walking away from me. The door was too thick, too solid. I spun round to glare at the woman I hated most in all the world.

My mum.

This whole thing was a set-up. A ridiculous scheme to stop me from following Uncle Jude's orders.

Uncle Jude's orders . . .

A groan ripped through my body as something worse occurred to me. Here I was, locked in Nana Jasmine's cellar with a woman I despised – and my carrier bag and its contents were out there, on the other side of the door.

Out there with Nana Jasmine.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

'Few writers can sustain a plot as well as Malorie Blackman'
Sunday Telegraph

'Blackman is becoming a bit of a national treasure'
The Times

MALORIE BLACKMAN is acknowledged as one of today's most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. Her first book about Sephy and Callum,
Noughts & Crosses,
won the Children's Book Award, the Sheffield Children's Book Award and the Lancashire Children's Book Award, whilst the second,
Knife Edge
was described by the
Guardian
as 'relentless in its pace and power . . . devastatingly powerful'. Her other books for the Random House Children's Books lists include
Hacker, Thief], A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E., Dangerous Reality, Dead Gorgeous
and
Pig-Heart Boy,
which was shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal and adapted into a BAFTA-award-winning TV serial. Both
Hacker
and
Thief!
won the Young Telegraph/Gimme 5 Award – Malorie is the only author to have won this twice – and
Hacker
also won the WH Smith Mind-Boggling Books Award in 1994. She has also written a number of tides for younger readers.

Malorie lives with her husband and daughter in Kent.

CHECKMATE

Can the future ever erase the past?

Callie Rose has a Cross mother and a nought father. But she knows virtually nothing about her father . . .

Until she is a young adult and unexpectedly discovers the truth. And how her father's family is tied up with the fight for equality for noughts.

Now Rose is drawn into a dangerous, deadly game – a game of very high stakes that can have only one winner. . .

A dramatic and intensely moving novel, the third in the award-winning
Noughts & Crosses
trilogy for older readers.

Available now in Doubleday hardcover

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