Awareness and Privilege Theme 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.”

Why couldn’t he understand that I hadn’t been talking about him? It was just a word. A word Dad had used. But it was a word that had hurt my best friend. A word that was now hurting me so very, very much.

“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.

“Sephy, don’t follow your mother, okay? She’s headed for a mental home—or a coffin. Is that really what you want?”

That made me start and no mistake. Was that really where Mother was going? I didn’t want her to die like that. I didn’t want to die like that. I regarded Callum, seeing myself as he must see me. A silly, pathetic child who thought that drinking was a way to grow older faster.

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.”

“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.”