Read Online Checkmate by Malorie Blackman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Malorie Blackman
Tags: Ages 9 & Up
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truth? Was the cause of Meggie's antipathy towards him the fact that she thought I was looking for Callum's replacement? But that couldn't be right, could it? I mean, why would I wait all this time, almost nine years, if that was what I had in mind? Sonny and me? What a laugh! He didn't even think of me that way any more.
We entered the back bedroom, which had been my workspace since I'd paid for an extension to the back of the house. It wasn't huge and it'd made the small garden even smaller, but at least I had a place to work now and it'd extended the kitchen downstairs. The room had a digital piano in it, two re-upholstered chairs, a tiny self-assembly pine desk, a music stand and some books on the floor. The desk was scattered with music manuscript paper, notepads and pencils. A CD-radio player sat selfconsciously towards the back of the desk, plugged in but not turned on. I switched on the keyboard and loaded up the last song Sonny and I had been working on.
I was just about to sit down, but there was something wrong. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I spun round to see Sonny watching me. Lately I'd caught him watching me quite a lot.
'I meant what I said,' Sonny told me. 'You are the one and only. You've always been the one and only.'
And the way he said it . . . so solemn, so sincere. So utterly believable. I was really impressed. No wonder he had so many girlfriends. It took a real master of his game to fake that degree of sincerity.
'Sonny, you have a new girlfriend roughly every three months. You wine 'em, dine 'em, bed 'em and dump 'em – not necessarily in that order.'
'Safety in numbers,' said Sonny. 'I date lots of girls to stop myself brooding about the only one that matters.'
And all the while, his eyes never left mine. And all at once I was drowning in his gaze.
'Sonny, I—'
But I didn't get any further. Sonny took hold of my arms and kissed me. And to the surprise of both of us, I kissed him back. I closed my eyes and let myself get swept away on this fragment of time. Sonny's arms immediately went around me, holding me almost too tight. I clung to him. I was being kissed.
Someone wanted me.
Me.
After all these years.
And all I had to do was keep my eyes closed.
fifteen. Rose is 9
Hello, Daddy,
How are you, up in heaven? Mr Brewster, my teacher, said we had to write a letter to someone far away. So I immediately thought of writing to you. Nana Meggie said it was a good idea. I don't think Mum thought so though. Mum said I should write to my cousin Taj or make someone up. I don't see the point in writing to Taj when I could just phone him up or send him an email. Besides he's just a little kid, so it's not like I can have a proper conversation with him. And what's the point of writing a letter to a make-believe someone? That's just writing to waste paper. So I chose you. I had to ask Mum about it first. Can you hear what Mum and me say from up in heaven? Well, just in case you can't, I asked her, 'Mummy, where's my dad – exactly?'
'Your dad is in heaven. I've already told you.'
'I mean, where is he buried?'
Mum got that peculiar look on her face that she always gets when I start asking questions she doesn't want to answer. Her gaze always dances away from mine and her hands start to fidget and she lowers her head and shoulders before she speaks. I wonder what that's about?
'Your dad was cremated and his ashes were scattered,' she said at last.
'Scattered where?'
'I can't remember,' Mum said.
'How come you can't remember? If I had to scatter your ashes, I'd remember where I'd put them.'
'It was a long time ago, Rose.'
'Yes, but it's not like losing an umbrella or a glove, is it? Then I could understand if you couldn't remember where you put them. But these were Dad's ashes and—'
'Rose, his ashes were scattered in Nana Jasmine's rose garden,' Mum interrupted.
'But you just said that you couldn't remember where they were.'
Mum sighed. 'Callie Rose, am I going to need a
We entered the back bedroom, which had been my workspace since I'd paid for an extension to the back of the house. It wasn't huge and it'd made the small garden even smaller, but at least I had a place to work now and it'd extended the kitchen downstairs. The room had a digital piano in it, two re-upholstered chairs, a tiny self-assembly pine desk, a music stand and some books on the floor. The desk was scattered with music manuscript paper, notepads and pencils. A CD-radio player sat selfconsciously towards the back of the desk, plugged in but not turned on. I switched on the keyboard and loaded up the last song Sonny and I had been working on.
I was just about to sit down, but there was something wrong. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I spun round to see Sonny watching me. Lately I'd caught him watching me quite a lot.
'I meant what I said,' Sonny told me. 'You are the one and only. You've always been the one and only.'
And the way he said it . . . so solemn, so sincere. So utterly believable. I was really impressed. No wonder he had so many girlfriends. It took a real master of his game to fake that degree of sincerity.
'Sonny, you have a new girlfriend roughly every three months. You wine 'em, dine 'em, bed 'em and dump 'em – not necessarily in that order.'
'Safety in numbers,' said Sonny. 'I date lots of girls to stop myself brooding about the only one that matters.'
And all the while, his eyes never left mine. And all at once I was drowning in his gaze.
'Sonny, I—'
But I didn't get any further. Sonny took hold of my arms and kissed me. And to the surprise of both of us, I kissed him back. I closed my eyes and let myself get swept away on this fragment of time. Sonny's arms immediately went around me, holding me almost too tight. I clung to him. I was being kissed.
Someone wanted me.
Me.
After all these years.
And all I had to do was keep my eyes closed.
fifteen. Rose is 9
Hello, Daddy,
How are you, up in heaven? Mr Brewster, my teacher, said we had to write a letter to someone far away. So I immediately thought of writing to you. Nana Meggie said it was a good idea. I don't think Mum thought so though. Mum said I should write to my cousin Taj or make someone up. I don't see the point in writing to Taj when I could just phone him up or send him an email. Besides he's just a little kid, so it's not like I can have a proper conversation with him. And what's the point of writing a letter to a make-believe someone? That's just writing to waste paper. So I chose you. I had to ask Mum about it first. Can you hear what Mum and me say from up in heaven? Well, just in case you can't, I asked her, 'Mummy, where's my dad – exactly?'
'Your dad is in heaven. I've already told you.'
'I mean, where is he buried?'
Mum got that peculiar look on her face that she always gets when I start asking questions she doesn't want to answer. Her gaze always dances away from mine and her hands start to fidget and she lowers her head and shoulders before she speaks. I wonder what that's about?
'Your dad was cremated and his ashes were scattered,' she said at last.
'Scattered where?'
'I can't remember,' Mum said.
'How come you can't remember? If I had to scatter your ashes, I'd remember where I'd put them.'
'It was a long time ago, Rose.'
'Yes, but it's not like losing an umbrella or a glove, is it? Then I could understand if you couldn't remember where you put them. But these were Dad's ashes and—'
'Rose, his ashes were scattered in Nana Jasmine's rose garden,' Mum interrupted.
'But you just said that you couldn't remember where they were.'
Mum sighed. 'Callie Rose, am I going to need a
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