Checkmate by Malorie Blackman

pointed out more
    than once. We'd been going out for over six months now, or at least that's
    what I called it. According to Sonny, we rarely went out. We watched DVDs,
    or listened to music and had dinner at his place or at my place on the very
    rare occasions when both Meggie and Rose were somewhere else. But there wasn't
    an awful lot of 'going out'. And making love was always at Sonny's instigation.
    I wasn't unwilling. It wasn't that. Sonny was a kind, considerate lover. And
    I did care about him – as much as I could care about anyone who wasn't
    my daughter. It was just . . . it was just that—
     
    My thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt at the sight of the piece of paper almost totally hidden beneath Sonny's arm. I thought at first it was just his notes on the song we'd been trying to write together. Until I saw the beginning of my name at the top of the sheet. The rest was obscured by his forearm, but I was sure the 'Seph' I could see was the beginning of my name.
    Was he writing something to me? Something he didn't feel able to say, even though I was sitting directly opposite him? Surely that could only be one thing . . . ? I leaned forward and slowly pulled at the sheet. Grunting his sleepy protest, Sonny lifted his arm a fraction. I used the opportunity to successfully whip out the piece of paper from under him. He turned his head on his folded forearms, but didn't wake up. My heart hiccupping in my chest, I sat back and read. I was right. My name was at the top of the paper, but Sonny was writing about me, not to me.
    Sephy Scared
    She is so scared
She just lashes out
She's afraid that I'll see
What she's all about
She thinks I don't know
That I cannot feel,
Can't see what is false
And can't tell what is real.
    She is so lost
She doesn't want to be found
Wants to lift up and soar
But can't get off the ground
All I want is her heart
To beg, borrow, steal
She can't see what is false
And can't tell what is real.
    Oh, she's alone in her heart
She's alone in her head
As her loneliness grows.
Oh, I'm not a part of her life
I'm just the man in her bed
Who loves her more than she knows
    She is so . . .
    I couldn't bear to read any more.
    Sephy Scared . . .
    Is that how Sonny saw me? Is that what I was? I put down the sheet of paper which was suddenly burning my fingers. I picked up my bag, stood up and, after one last look at Sonny, walked quietly out of the room.

eighteen. Rose is 9

    Ella and me were playing. It was the first time Ella had come round to my house after school – and it 'was great. We've never been particular friends before this term, but she always asks to play with me at lunch time. And when we have games and have to find a partner, she always rushes over to stand by me. So we're good friends now. And she was good fun – not like her brother Lucas, who was a real pain. We played a couple of computer games, but Ella wasn't really into them so then we played hide and seek. Mum made us sausages, chips and beans for dinner and it was lovely. I sort of drowned the chips in too much vinegar when Mum wasn't looking, so they tasted all soggy and sour. I couldn't eat them but I told Mum I wasn't too hungry for chips. I didn't tell her that I could've sucked out at least half a cup of vinegar from each one.
    'My compliments to the chef, Mum!' I said as I put down my knife and fork.
    She always lets me off eating what's left on my plate when I say that.
    'Thank you, kind miss,' smiled Mum. Then she curtseyed. Mum and I both laughed whilst Ella looked at Mum like she was a fruit-and-nut bar. Ella and me went out into the garden to play on the swing until we both got bored of that as well. Then I had a brilliant idea.
    'D'you want to play with my puppet theatre?' I asked. 'Nana Jasmine gave it to me for my birthday.'
    'Yes, please,' said Ella.
    We'd only just got it out when the front doorbell went.
    'Ohhh!' Both Ella and me groaned. Ella's mum had come round much too soon.
    'Rose, could you open