Cross Term Analysis

“Honestly, Mrs. Hadley,” said Meggie McGregor, wiping her eyes. “That sense of humor of yours will be the death of me yet!”

Jasmine Hadley allowed herself a rare giggle. “The things I tell you, Meggie. It’s lucky we’re such good friends!”

Meggie’s smile wavered only slightly. She looked out across the vast lawn at Callum and Sephy. Her son and her employer’s daughter. They were good friends playing together. Real good friends. No barriers. No boundaries. Not yet anyway.

“Us noughts and you Crosses.” I shook my head. “It makes it sound like…like you’re in one place and I’m in another, with a huge, great wall between us.”

Callum looked out across the sea. “Maybe we are in different places…”

“No, we aren’t. Not if we don’t want to be, we aren’t.” I willed Callum to look at me.

“I wish it was that simple.”

“It is.”

“Maybe from where you’re sitting.”

“STOP IT! YOU’RE ALL BEHAVING LIKE ANIMALS!” I shouted so hard my throat immediately began to hurt. “WORSE THAN ANIMALS—LIKE BLANKERS!”

The sound of the crowd slowly died away. “Just look at you,” I continued. “Stop it.” I glanced down at Callum. He was staring at me, the strangest expression on his face.

Callum, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean you. I’d never mean you. It was just for the others, to get them to stop, to get them to help. I didn’t mean you…

“That Band-Aid’s a bit noticeable.”

“They don’t sell pink Band-Aids. Only dark brown ones.” Shania shrugged.

My eyes widened at that. I’d never really thought about it before, but she was right. I’d never seen any pink Band-Aids. Band-Aids were the color of us Crosses, not the noughts.

“Because her boyfriend was a Cross. Your sister was beaten and l-left for dead because she was dating a Cross. And she didn’t even tell us. She was afraid of what we’d all say. So is it any wonder that she can’t bear to think of herself as one of us anymore? Is it any wonder she can’t even leave this house anymore? Her mind hasn’t been right since ’cause she’s still hurting.”

“No, Meggie. I’m guilty. That’s the truth and I’m sticking to it. I won’t let them put you and Callum in prison for this. Or Jude.” Dad lowered his voice again. “Just make sure that Jude stays lost so the daggers can’t get their hands on him. If they find him, he’ll rot in prison.” A tiny, sad smile played over Dad’s face, but it was gone in an instant. “But at least my confession means he won’t die.”

The judge was droning on and on at the jury, telling them what the case was about and what it was not about. Twelve good men and women and true, hanging on the judge’s every word. Twelve good Cross men and women, of course. How else could justice be served?

Mr. Pingule, the prosecutor, smiled at me encouragingly, which helped a little. A very little. I hadn’t expected to be quite so nervous. […]

“Take your time, Miss Hadley,” the judge said, smiling.

I smiled back at him gratefully. Maybe I could do this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

According to the reporters on the telly, Kelani was making sure that the trial was as fair as possible—and putting the judge’s back up in the process. Good for her!

Ryan McGregor just had to be found not guilty. It was only right and proper.

It was only just.

It was only justice.

“You stupid girl. Who d’you think paid for their lawyer and all their legal fees?” Mother took hold of my shoulders and shook me. “I prayed and paid and did everything I could to make sure that Ryan wouldn’t hang. What more could I have done? You tell me.”

When I’d come into her room, I’d been burning up with the desire to smash her and everything else around her. Sephy was a Cross I could actually hurt. And yet here she was, asleep and still holding on to my arms like I was a life raft or something. There’s not an inch of space between her body and mine. I could move my hands and…And. Anything I liked. Caress or strangle. Kill or cure. Her or me. Me or her.

I used to comfort myself with the belief that it was only certain individuals and their peculiar notions that spoiled things for the rest of us. But how many individuals does it take before it’s not the individuals who are prejudiced but society itself? And it wasn’t even that most Crosses were prejudiced against noughts. I still didn’t believe that. But everyone seemed to be too afraid to stand up in public and say, “This is wrong.” And by everyone, I meant me included.

And we’d succeeded. We had Sephy. No! Not Sephy…Just a Cross girl—who deserved everything she got, who’d get us everything we needed. I paused outside the cell door. I could do this. I had to do this.

Be what you have to be, Callum, not what you are…

I repeated that phrase over and over in my head, the way I used to do when I first joined the LM. The way I had to whenever there was something…distasteful that needed to be done.

“Mum’s grandfather, our great-grandfather, was a Cross. That’s what Mum told me that day. We’ve got Cross blood in our veins.”

“I—I don’t believe it,” I whispered.

“It’s true. Mum only told me because I joined the LM. She said I was part Cross, so killing them would be just like killing my own. Poor Mum! That backfired on her.”

“What do you mean?”

“None of them ever wanted us. What has any Cross ever done for me except look down at me? I hated them even more after Mum told me the truth. Poor Mum.”

“No, he just raped you and made you pregnant instead,” Dad said bitterly.

“Kamal, please—,” Mother began.

“Callum didn’t rape me. He didn’t.”

“But you’re pregnant, so he must’ve.” Mother frowned.

“I’m pregnant because we made love to each other,” I shouted angrily.

Once I’d been found guilty nothing on earth could’ve made the judges overturn the verdict. The reason is simple. I’m a nought who dared to fall in love with a Cross. And worse still, I actually made love with her. And worse than that, she’s pregnant with my child and doesn’t care who knows it.

“I used to think about it a lot,” I sigh. Dreams of living in a world with no more discrimination, no more prejudice, a fair police force, an equal justice system, equality of education, equality of life, a level playing field…”

“Good grief! Is this a thesis or a fairy tale?” Jack asks dryly.

“Like I said, I used to think about it a lot.”

“I’m not sure I share your faith in a society ruled by noughts,” Jack tells me thoughtfully. “People are people. We’ll always find a way to mess up, doesn’t matter who’s in charge.”