Anthem for Jackson Dawes by Celia Bryce Read Free Book Online

you later, Jackson. See you later,
Megan
.’ Off they went in a storm of giggles.
    Megan replaced the lid of her vaseline, pushing it back into her locker, and tidying as she went along, determined not to look at Jackson. He just loved being the centre of attention, obviously. She wasn’t going to be stupid about him, like everyone else.
    â€˜So … what?’ There was a grin in his voice.
    Why did he always sound like he was laughing at her?
    â€˜They’re like your own little fan club.’ Megan continued tidying. ‘You should give out badges. Mugs with
Jackson
all over them. Hats. You could sell them.’
    Jackson began rifling through his pockets, then stopped. ‘And I thought I had badges in here. You could have had one for nothing, now that we’re almost going out and everything.’ His eyes were huge, shining. Megan tried not to look at him any more, her cheeks warm. ‘I mean, give it another few days, we’ll be engaged, if Laura and Becky have anything to do with it.’
    Megan gaped at him, feeling her whole body blush. ‘Very funny, Jackson. So funny I could laugh myself to bits.’ But Megan couldn’t laugh, even if she’d wanted to. Tiredness was flooding over her, like some huge wave. She closed her eyes. If Jackson wanted to be part of a story made up by two littlegirls, then let him. No way was she joining in. And if she kept her eyes shut, maybe he’d get the hint.
    â€˜Right, sleepyhead, I’m going.’
    â€˜OK,’ Megan muttered.
    â€˜Off, right now.’
    She kept her eyes clamped shut. ‘So you keep saying …’
    â€˜By the way …’
    If only she had something she could throw at him. Something sharp. Or heavy. That would do. Only right then she didn’t have the energy, even if she had a whole line of things to chuck at him.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Vaseline.’ Leaning forward, Jackson touched her mouth, so gently that it might have been something delicate, something that might break. He dabbed at her bottom lip, concentrating so hard that this might have been the most important task ever. ‘You missed a bit,’ he said.
    Megan couldn’t speak. He was so close to her that she couldn’t utter a word, so close she could hardly breathe. For that brief moment everything seemed to stop, as if the whole world, their world, on the ward, in the hospital, was put on hold and dared not move, because if it did, the moment might disappear.
    At last, Jackson’s gaze met hers. There was no smile in his eyes, no mockery; just the window, opposite, the shape of it, mirroring in each one, perfect reflections of the day’s pale light.

Five
    It was a silly game, one to be played when you’re lying in a hospital bed, not one that Gemma or the Twins would appreciate. It wasn’t like football with all of its rules and its time limits, or going out looking at boys in the shopping centre. There were no winners, no losers. It was more like Patience, that card game Grandad liked to play on his own.
    All you had to do was close your eyes and listen, try to work out whose footsteps were going past the door, or who was laughing, or talking. You couldn’t cheat by opening your eyes. Not that anyone would know. You could make it as complicated or as simple as you liked, depending on how much time you had, or how bored or sick you were feeling.
    There was too much time.
    She was bored for most of it.
    And now she was feeling sick.
    Sister Brewster’s shoes squeaked. Megan had studied this. Siobhan’s shoes had a kind of clicky sound. It seemed to come from the heels. The cancer consultant, Frog-Man, dragged his feet as if he couldn’t lift them properly, or liked the sound they made, liked everyone to know who was walking past their door. Or maybe his job was too hard. Maybe it made his shoes heavier.
    He had a huge laugh, which he must have kept for the ward, or maybe just the