Chapters (90)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Praise for Malorie Blackman’s books
- Also available by Malorie Blackman for young adult readers
- Dedication
- Family Tree
- Epigraph
- NOW
- one. Tobey
- two. Libby
- Then
- three. Place Names
- four. Isabella Monroe
- five. Kellan Bruemann
- NOW
- six. Libby
- Daily Shouter Online
- Then
- seven. Patrix Ellerman
- eight. Tobey Durbridge
- nine. Circulating
- NOW
- ten. Troy
- Then
- eleven. Owen Dowd
- twelve. Eva Foxton
- thirteen. Tom Jeavons
- NOW
- Then
- fourteen. Sephy Ealing
- fifteen. The Night That Would Never End
- NOW
- sixteen. Sephy
- seventeen. Libby
- eighteen. Sephy
- nineteen. Tobey
- twenty. Sephy
- twenty-one. Libby
- twenty-two. Troy
- twenty-three. Libby
- twenty-four. Tobey
- twenty-five. Troy
- twenty-six. Callie
- twenty-seven. Tobey
- twenty-eight. Troy
- twenty-nine. Callie
- thirty. Sephy
- thirty-one. Libby
- thirty-two. Sephy
- thirty-three. Tobey
- thirty-four. Sephy
- thirty-five. Troy
- thirty-six. Callie
- thirty-seven. Tobey
- thirty-eight. Callie
- thirty-nine. Sephy
- forty. Tobey
- forty-one. Sephy
- forty-two. Troy
- forty-three. Callie
- forty-four. Sephy
- forty-five. Libby
- forty-six. Sephy
- forty-seven. Troy
- forty-eight. Tobey
- forty-nine. Sephy
- fifty. Libby
- fifty-one. Sephy
- fifty-two. Callie
- fifty-three. Tobey
- fifty-four. Sephy
- fifty-five. Troy
- fifty-six. Libby
- fifty-seven. Callie
- fifty-eight. Sephy
- fifty-nine. Tobey
- sixty. Callie
- sixty-one. Sephy
- sixty-two. Tobey
- sixty-three. Sephy
- sixty-four. Tobey
- sixty-five. Troy
- sixty-six. Callie
- THREE MONTHS LATER
- sixty-seven. Tobey
- sixty-eight. Troy
- sixty-nine. Callie
- seventy. Libby
- Acknowledgements
- THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
‘Not long enough,’ Sephy replied.
My lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Same old Sephy.’
‘Same old Tobey. And that’s Mrs Ealing to you.’
I tried again. ‘I’ve been following Callie’s career. You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished. I know I am.’
Sephy looked me up and down. ‘I’ve been following your career just as closely, Tobey,’ she told me. ‘The smart money says you’ll be the next leader of Albion.’
‘And what d’you say?’
‘I say I was smart enough not to vote for you. You know as much about public service as I know about the dark side of the moon.’
Well, I did ask. ‘Mrs Ealing, that’s hardly fair. Why d’you think I got into this game in the first place?’
‘You see, Tobey, you just gave yourself away there. You’re in the position to change the course of people’s lives for good and yet you call it a game. Yes, the drug rehabilitation centre you set up back in the day was to help others. Everything after that has been to help yourself,’ she replied.
Why was I even arguing with this woman? Nothing I said or did was ever going to win her over. But that didn’t stop me trying. ‘I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I genuinely want to do some good.’
‘Then start by staying away from my daughter,’ said Sephy.
‘Why is it so hard for you to believe that I care about Callie?’
‘Care about her?’
Pause. ‘Yes, care about her,’ I repeated. Damn it! I was blushing. A grown-ass man who made other world leaders nervous, yet this woman had me blushing! That’s what Sephy had reduced me to, what she always reduced me to.
‘Tobey, you wouldn’t know an honest emotion if it bit you on the left bum cheek. You don’t really love my daughter; you’ve just persuaded yourself that you do because you think that makes you a better person. It doesn’t. You’re the biggest fake and I’m going to use every breath in my body to get Callie to see the truth about you.’
Slowly I shook my head. This wasn’t indifference or general dislike: the woman truly loathed me. ‘Mrs Ealing, I didn’t make the rules, but I know how to play the political “game”. So maybe you’re semi-right and I am a fake about most things. But not about Callie. Never with her nor about my feelings for her.’
‘Tobey, are you even capable of real love? I’ve watched you over the years and I’ve also heard things, none of them flattering. You and your act have a lot of people fooled, including my daughter, but not me.’