Knife Edge (27 page)

Waiting
Watching
Secrets
Cold Blood, Old Blood
Tasteless
Peaceful Seas
Cold Fish
Ice
Tasteless
Whispers
Foetal Position
Fire
Blue Aquamarine Purple Navy
Icy
Dying

B
Y
M
INERVA
H
ADLEY

Andrew Dorn, the man accused by Jude McGregor of the murder of Cara Imega, was found dead yesterday afternoon. In an ironic twist he was found with a single bullet wound to the back of his head in Turncoat Street off the A404 in Archwell.

A police spokesman said, 'This is a classic style of execution as carried out by the Liberation Militia. We in the police will leave no stone unturned in our efforts to track down the killer of Andrew Dorn and bring him or her to justice.'

In an exclusive interview, Kamal Hadley told me, 'Jude McGregor may not have pulled the trigger, but he's the one responsible for Andrew Dorn's death. The man never stood a chance once Jude denounced him as working for the government. And the worst thing of all is, Jude will get away with it. We can't touch him for this.'

Jude McGregor, who was originally arrested for the murder of Cara Imega, had the murder charge against him dropped due to 'lack of evidence'. The case against him fell apart when Persephone Hadley sensationally provided Jude with an alibi for the night of Cara Imega's death. Persephone Hadley is currently residing with Jude's mother in Meadowview. Jude was not given his freedom, however, as he is still being held on the charge of belonging to the Liberation Militia, which carries a maximum penalty of two years in prison. A police spokesman said
(continued on page 4)

Happy days are here again! I'm no longer charged with murdering . . . that Cross woman. The case against me has fallen apart like a snot-filled tissue. Crossmas has come early this year. And Luke, a fellow Liberation Militia inmate, has told me that I'm being welcomed back into the open arms of the
L.M.

I feel like I've been invited back home. And it's great.

They're not letting me out of prison though. They couldn't dig up enough evidence to get me on the charge of kidnapping Sephy, either, but they didn't give up. They've now got me for belonging to the
L.M.
which carries an automatic sentence of two years in jail. I have no doubt that I'll be found guilty of that one. They're desperate to get me for something. But with good behaviour, I'll be out in six to eight months. Even the prospect of spending the next few months in prison can't stop me smiling. I bought the
Daily Shouter
this morning and the headline has had me grinning so hard all day that my lips are beginning to ache.

Andrew Dorn is dead.

Things couldn't've worked out better. One down, only Sephy and her daughter to go. And the only dead fly in my potato and leek soup is the fact that Sephy is living with my mum. I still can't believe that. I didn't know till I saw Sephy and my mum on the TV. Still, all this publicity should guarantee that she has to move on. She'll have no friends after this – on either side. Her fellow Crosses will blame her for giving an alibi to a nought accused of the murder of a Cross. They'll say she's betrayed one of her own. And noughts will hate her for not coming forward as my alibi sooner, when she had the chance. In fact, if she hadn't given a newspaper and a radio interview before I told the press my story, I doubt if she'd've said another word about it. I think she'd've denied it all if she could've – but she was too late. Thank God. I watched on the TV in prison as the newspapers and TV cameras camped on my mum's doorstep, desperate for an interview after my revelations, but Sephy never said a word. She didn't corroborate or deny my story. But then she didn't have to. Her previous interviews had done the job for her. And although she never actually mentioned Andrew Dorn in any of the interviews she gave before my heartbreaking tale of injustice was broadcast, it didn't matter. The press kept asking her about Andrew Dorn. As far as they and everyone else was concerned, Sephy knew him, had left him at Cara's house and had then kept quiet after Cara's death to cover it up. She was guilty by association. Not that any of the reporters got very far with Sephy. Every question thrown at her was met with a stony silence. A telling, damning silence.

A silence which brought a grin to my lips and joy to my heart. I've got you, Sephy. And this is just the start. I've got you.

I hope you're proud of me, Callum.

I did it all for you.

Andrew Dorn has paid for betraying us. And no matter where Sephy goes now she'll be alone and despised by everyone she meets. And best of all, I'll still have my vengeance against her when I come out. I couldn't've asked for a better outcome.

And although it's not enough, it sure is close.

'D'you like this one, Rose?'

'Yyang yyang!' Rose told me.

'I quite agree,' I smiled, putting the orange sleepsuit back on the rack. Orange was not Rose's colour. It didn't suit her, but it was the only colour that didn't.

We were out shopping for new clothes for Rose because she was putting on weight like nobody's business. It was the first time in a long time that Rose and I had been out together with nothing to do but enjoy each other's company. And after everything that'd happened recently, I didn't want to be around anyone else. I didn't have that right. I'd re-enter the world when the photo of Cara Imega that'd been in the papers stopped dancing before my eyes. When the memory of how I'd helped her murderer get away with it stopped slashing at my mind and haunting my dreams, then and only then would I be ready to rejoin the human race. But in the meantime I had to carry on for Rose's sake. I didn't have that much money but I had enough to buy a couple of things. When I used to have money, I never noticed the price of anything. Now I studied the price of everything. And I couldn't remember the last time I'd bought myself any clothes. Not that I was ever into that kind of stuff, but it would've been lovely to have had the choice financially. I kissed Rose's forehead before placing her back in the baby carrier I had strapped around my body. I put her facing forwards so she could give me her opinion of the clothes I was selecting for her. Ensuring the straps around us both were secure and that Rose was comfy, I picked up another sleepsuit set which caught my eye. I kissed Rose on the top of her head. I couldn't help it. Maybe I'd get the hang of this motherhood lark yet. Maybe. When I stopped feeling so wretched and worthless.

'How about these, Rose? They're lovely, don't you think?' This set was so pretty. There was a vivid red sleep-suit with blue flowers, a yellow one with red flowers and a dark-blue one with yellow flowers.

'Yyangga!' Rose gurgled.

'You've got good taste, sweet-pea,' I told her.

'You're Persephone Hadley, aren't you?'

At the sound of my name, I spun round – and then instantly wished I hadn't.

'It
is
you, isn't it?' said the middle-aged woman behind me.

And if looks could kill, I'd've been cold on the floor with a chalk outline around my body.

'Thanks to you, that murderer Jude McGregor is going to get away with killing one of us,' the woman hissed at me. 'Not that you care – blanker-lover.'

I put the sleepsuit back on the rack and tried to walk away, but she grabbed my arm and swung me round. Others were beginning to gather round now. My face had been all over the newspapers over the last few days, but I really hadn't expected to be identified. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see that others were beginning to recognize me. One hand stole protectively around Rose. I didn't say a word. What was there to say?

'That's her . . .'

'That's the one

'Kamal Hadley's daughter . . .'

'Is that Callum McGregor's baby? You know, the terrorist they hanged . . ?'

And more. And worse. And on and on.

'My husband is a policeman,' the woman who'd started all this told me. 'He says everyone knows Jude McGregor killed that girl. But thanks to your lies muddying the waters, no way could they get a conviction now.'

The evidence was all circumstantial, otherwise both Jude and I would be in court by now. The police had no conclusive evidence, no blood, no
DNA
, just fingerprints. But I only thought that. I didn't say it.

'D'you really hate your own kind so much?' a Cross man with his Cross girlfriend asked me.

'I feel sorry for that child,' said another, pointing at Rose. 'With a mother like you, she doesn't stand a chance.'

And more. And worse. And on and on.

I started to walk but there was no safe, clear direction. They were all around me.

'Excuse me, please.' I tried to move past the police officer's wife but she wouldn't move.

If I hadn't had my daughter with me, I'd've made her move. But then, if I hadn't had my daughter with me, they would've aimed more than barbed words at my body. I pushed past her, and this time, reluctantly, she let me pass.

'Blanker-lover!'

Scum . . .'

'Slag . . .'

'Skank . . .'

Rose started to cry.

'It's OK, baby,' I whispered in her ear. 'It's OK.'

But it wasn't. And my tears falling on her forehead probably told her that more clearly than anything else I could've said or done. They were right. I wasn't any kind of mother. Rose would be better off without me. Rose deserved to be happy. And with me, she wouldn't be. How could she be with me?

I had to make sure she was happy.

I'd failed miserably in everything else.

In that one thing at least, I had to succeed.

Anticipation
Revenge, retribution
Contemplation
False divisions
Nighttimes
Darkness
Absence of light
Illusions
Delusions
Tricks in the Dark
Blazing
Buried
Stillness
Purple
Sacrifice

THE DAILY SHOUTER Thursday 16th September Page 15

The long-awaited report into the educational achievements of both nought and Cross children was published yesterday after a two-month delay. For those who have always supported the idea of noughts and Crosses being educated together, it made disappointing reading. The report showed that nought children do worse at school than their Cross counterparts, with nought boys doing worst of all.

Sofia Taylforth, Minister of Education, stated, 'Noughts have enjoyed the same educational opportunities as Crosses for only a few years. It's unrealistic to expect great strides in educational achievement after such a short space of time. Yes, it is disturbing that nought children do less well in integrated schools than in nought-only schools and it's especially regrettable that nought boys in particular seem to fare less well, but it is simplistic to conclude that nought children are less able than Cross children because of it. Teacher expectations, teaching methods, parental support, home environment, peer group pressure and a host of other factors all have to be taken into account. We in the government will be studying this report in far greater depth before we reach any conclusions.'

Cedric Hardacre, backbench MP, told the
Daily Shouter,
'This report just proves what I've said all along. The integration of our schools just doesn't work. It's time for an honest debate on the subject without the knee-jerk reaction of those who speak out against integration being called racists and segregationists.'

Cedric Hardacre has also spoken out against inter-racial marriage and spoken for the repatriation of noughts back to their country of origin.