Anthem for Jackson Dawes (10 page)

The Twins hung back slightly, like two uncertain deer.

So this was the
houseful
.

‘Hi, Megan. How're you feeling?' That was Frieda.

‘Good? Or bad? Do you feel bad? You look all right.' That was Stacey.

They were both frowning behind their fringes, as if saying just those few words was too hard, as if they weren't used to talking.

The Twins?

Not used to talking?

‘I'm OK,' Megan replied. ‘Are you not coming in?'

The girls shuffled into the room. They were so identical that even their movements and emotions seemed synchronised. Today they appeared to be terrified and stared at Megan as if she were an unexploded bomb or had the plague.

Gemma touched her arm in that quiet way of hers. ‘Was it horrible?'

‘No, not really … it was …'

‘We're sorry we didn't visit or anything but, anyway … We brought the balloons. Do you like them?' Stacey looked as if the balloons were a bad idea.

Megan tried to answer.

‘When're you coming back to school?' Frieda sprang into action. ‘You've missed
so
much work.
Did they make you do any? Are you in tomorrow?' She flopped into a chair.

There was silence for a second. Megan wished it would go on for longer. She wished they'd all just go home.

‘She's not going to be in
tomorrow
, stupid, she's just got out of hospital!' Stacey flopped into another chair.

‘Yes, but it's
PE
.' Frieda shook her head as if all sisters were stupid. ‘And we know what Megan's like when it comes to that! Football …'

They sat looking expectantly at her. Gemma said nothing, just played with her earring, rolling it around in her ear lobe.

‘I don't think I can do it. I've still got a drip thing in,' Megan said.

The Twins blinked. ‘Where?'

Megan patted her collarbone. ‘It's in here. I have to keep it in till the treatment's finished. I can't get it wet.'

‘Ugh!' There was an exchange of looks between the Twins. ‘But … it's not finished?' Frieda said.

‘Have they not got rid of it?' That was Stacey.

Gemma tutted. ‘She's just on her first treatment. They told us at school, remember!'

‘Did they?' Megan said. Then she remembered Mum telling her she'd gone to see the Head. But the thought of going back with everyone knowing …

‘Mrs Delaney's had cancer and she said she had to
have lots of treatments. So you might, as well. That's what she told us.' Gemma glanced at Megan. ‘Just to us, you know. To our class.'

‘Her hair fell out,' Frieda said, sliding a look at Megan.

‘But you'd never know,' said Stacey. ‘I've never noticed. Mrs Delaney's hair's always looked rubbish.' A sideways glance at Megan.

Even Gemma seemed curious.

‘It's still all mine,' she said, giving it a tug.

The Twins breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Good,' they said. Up they got. ‘But we have to go now. Mum said we weren't to stay long …' They made a fuss of finding the present they'd brought. A box of chocolates. ‘Just in case we made you worse.'

Megan had to smile.

‘So when will you be back?' the Twins said.

‘Don't know. Maybe next week. I've got the work they sent me.'

‘If you need any more, I can bring it,' Gemma offered. ‘Any time.'

The Twins were at the door. ‘You didn't tell us about the doctors? Any nice ones?'

Megan pictured the staff. Her drawings of them. The frog consultant, the long lanky doctor with spiky hair who looked like a sweeping brush.

‘Yeah. Loads,' she said, ‘if you get bored gnawing your arm off.'

There was a delicious moment of quiet after the
front door closed – with a bang – behind the Twins. The whole house seemed to take a breath and sigh, then the normal sounds drifted back in. Mum in the kitchen. The clock on the mantelpiece.

Megan curled up on the sofa with Gemma and watched a couple of episodes of
Friends
. They laughed at the bits they always laughed at and yet it didn't feel all that funny. Not any more. They had such stupid things go wrong with them. They were like a walking problem page. None of it real.

‘Are you tired?' Gemma asked. ‘I can stay. Or go.'

Megan flicked off the TV. ‘I don't know. I feel like I've been hit by something very big and very fast.'

Gemma giggled. ‘That would be the Twins.'

Megan smiled, but she was tired. She closed her eyes and thought about what to do for the rest of the day, the rest of the week and all the weeks till she went back into hospital and saw Jackson again.

It was all mixed up. She never wanted to go back and yet where else would she see him? It was like watching a big black cloud inching nearer and nearer, but wanting it to come, wanting it to rain right on top of you, because you'd feel rain, you'd feel it on your skin and on your hair and it would be real.

‘I don't think I can come back to school. Not yet. It'll be like a class
full
of Twins.'

Gemma was frowning. ‘Are you all right? Will I get your mum?'

Not Mum. What she wanted right then was Jackson. ‘I'm fine. But I think I need to go to sleep. Is that OK?'

‘Course it is. I'll go now. Ring you later?' Gemma gave her a tight hug. It felt too tight, as if she were trying too hard.

‘I'll ring you,' Megan said. ‘I might sleep right through till tomorrow, I'm so whacked.'

Or maybe till she could go back. Till she could see Jackson again.

But it wasn't until her third treatment that she saw Jackson again and when she discovered him on the ward, in his old room, as if he'd never left it, Megan had to stop herself from smiling. This was right. This feeling. Just seeing him again.

The last time she was in hospital hadn't felt right at all, him not being there. Going home afterwards hadn't either, or getting back to school, where she'd had to listen to the Twins going on about stupid stuff like clothes and getting their belly buttons pierced and that new maths teacher who was
just gorgeous
. And Gemma joining in as if that's all she thought about too. It was rubbish. Everything.

At least she was here now, trying to persuade Jackson to let her draw him.

‘I've done almost everyone else. Do you want to see them?'

He didn't show any interest. He just lay back on his bed, eyes closed. And he didn't seem all that pleased to see her.

For the first time Megan wondered if he had a girlfriend, someone he'd seen when he was at home, someone lovely and healthy and not with cancer. Someone who didn't remind him of what he had.

Maybe cancer made you imagine that people liked you more than they really did. Megan tried not to think about that.

‘Well, can I draw you?'

‘Do I have to move?'

Megan giggled. ‘No.'

‘OK, then.'

Grandad had been asking about her drawings. He said while she couldn't play football she should draw as much as possible. She could be a proper artist, if only she'd practise. And he wanted to see some of her pictures – she would have to send him a few. She could send him this one, of Jackson.

‘Ah, you're here.' Sister Brewster peered in. ‘Nice to see you back, Megan. What're you up to?' She gave them both a smile.

Megan gestured at her sketch pad. ‘Jackson's a rubbish model.'

Sister Brewster didn't seem surprised at that.
‘I'm glad I've got you both together, because, Jackson, if you're planning any walkabouts this time …'

‘Yeah,' Jackson said, not opening his eyes. ‘What?'

‘It would be really useful if you could just give us a hint. I know we've had it far too easy, these last few weeks, with you being at home, but easy is how we prefer it. And you could take Megan with you. Maybe she'll keep you out of trouble.'

There was a pause. A meaningful look.

Megan frowned. Why was Sister Brewster going on like this?

‘So, what d'you say? Is that a plan?'

Jackson didn't respond. Either he didn't want Sister Brewster on his case, or he didn't want anyone to go with him on his travels, as if it might delay him, or make it more difficult.

For a moment, Megan thought he was going to refuse. She gave him a prod.

‘OK,' Jackson said, with a roll of his eyes. He didn't bother with his usual grin, always at the ready to smooth things over. ‘So we'll go later, to … the old part. Megan hasn't seen it.'

‘That's fine, but don't be too long. Remember, we haven't got the time or the staff to come hunting for you …' Off she went.

‘Bog off, Rooster,' he muttered.

Megan felt like she'd been dropped into another conversation entirely. ‘What's wrong?'

Jackson shook his head but said nothing, just stared at the ceiling.

‘She's only making a point, that's all,' Megan went on.

Still no response.

‘Has something happened?'

‘Nothing. Nothing's
happened
.'

Silence.

Megan ran her fingers along the side of her sketch pad. There were lots of pages in it. The whole thing felt solid, reliable, something you could trust to do what you expected it to do. Like trees. Rocks.

What was wrong with Jackson?

‘Last time I was in,' she said, aware that she was almost gabbling, ‘there was no one. Nobody to talk to. Siobhan was away on holiday. And they've got some new nurses. New patients. Everything. I would have talked to Becky and Laura but they weren't even about because Becky's brother went home, and so did Kipper. But she's back in. I think.'

Jackson seemed not to be listening but he turned his eyes to her. ‘So did you get back to school at all?'

‘A bit,' she replied. ‘After my second treatment. Do you get used to chemo? I didn't feel so tired last time.' There was no reply. ‘Anyway, I was only in half-days.'

She'd hated it. Every second of it. Mum dropped her off on her first day back and she'd almost panicked. Just froze in her seat.

It didn't get any better.

‘I've got this friend, Gemma,' Megan went on. ‘She was great, but we aren't in the same lessons all the time and then there's Stacey and Frieda.' She shook her head. ‘They're really nice, but treat you like you're … I don't know what … like something from a zoo. And everyone else. They keep waiting for my hair to fall out or something, or to turn green.'

Jackson nodded as if he knew all about that.

‘I was glad to be back. It sounds stupid, but I was.' Back on the ward where it didn't matter what you looked like, or if you felt rotten. Everyone was the same. ‘Did you go to school?'

‘In and out,' Jackson said. ‘I'm always just in and out of school. They're used to it. And I hardly do any work. They don't make me. Cancer has its good points.'

Megan looked for one of his grins. It didn't come. Something deep inside her gave a flutter. What was wrong with him? Why was he in such a mood?

‘Someone asked me if I was pregnant,' she said, hoping to raise a smile, cos I've been away so much.'

More silence. Megan gazed across at Jackson. He was bored, obviously, didn't want her here. He didn't want her with him, anywhere.

She gathered up her things and stood to go, trying
not to remember that once he'd kissed her as if he liked her, trying not to feel hurt.

‘Will you come and get me?' she said. ‘Later? If you're feeling all right?'

Megan waited at the door. What would she do if he said no?

At last Jackson looked up. ‘Yeah. I will.'

The old part of the hospital seemed to be nothing but corridors covered in green tiles. It was a maze. Along the walls were tall windows, with sills you could sit on they were so deep, and glass divided up into small panes which looked out over red-brick buildings of all shapes and sizes. A dull afternoon light struggled in.

Megan and Jackson walked past dark passageways on each side, with arched entrances, like tunnels. The corridor dipped slowly towards its destination. There were signs for Rheumatology, Endocrinology, Pathology, Haematology.

Jackson was quiet. He'd come to get Megan from her room, as promised, said he was going for a walk and waited for her. She forgave his mood and was pleased, but none of it was fun. He really didn't want her company, he was doing it because Sister Brewster had told him to. It was obvious.

‘Where are we going exactly?' Megan asked.

‘Dunno,' Jackson said. ‘Never got to the end of this corridor yet.'

They'd been walking for some time, pushing their drip stands along in front of them.

A doctor strode by, with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. He seemed to be in a world of his own. Five minutes later, a woman with a stick struggled towards them, appearing out of nowhere, it seemed. She was dumpy, with whiskers, a nest of white hair and complete bewilderment on her face.

‘Have you seen the Eye Department, pet?' she wheezed. ‘Must have come the wrong way.' Megan glanced at Jackson who shook his head and shrugged. ‘It's the opfimology I want,' the woman continued. She pushed an appointment card at them.

‘Oph-thal-mology,' Megan read.

‘That's it, pet. Opfimology.'

‘It says it's in Spencer Wing … where's that, Jackson?'

He was beginning to move away, as if nothing mattered except a corridor he'd never reached the end of.

A smartly dressed woman came by, hair plaited into a thick, silver rope. There was an official badge pinned to her jacket. She knew exactly where Spencer Wing was.

‘It's for this lady,' explained Megan. ‘We know where we're going.'

‘But the children's ward's at the other end of the hospital, isn't it?' This was more of a statement than a question and suggested that this woman, with her
name badge, thought they were up to something. ‘What are you doing all the way down here?' The woman looked hard at Jackson. ‘Aren't you the boy who …'