little ones. You could always hear him. Like everything was a joke. Like this wasnât a ward full of cancer patients trying to dodge
the bigger thing
.
The bigger thing.
When they first told her she had cancer and would need to go into hospital, Megan just sat waiting for the words sheâd just heard to go away, so that she wouldnât have to think about it.
âWhat if I say no,â she said, because they refused to go away. âWhat if I donât want to go to hospital?â
Mum and Dad had looked at her as if sheâd stripped off all her clothes in front of a bus queue.
âWell, Megan,â Frog-Man said, âitâs a big thing, this. An important thing. The cancer, the treatment. If you donât have the treatment, and let the cancer stay, you could die. And thatâs a bigger thing altogether.â He made a tent of his hands and twirledhis thumbs round each other. âItâs about trying to help you dodge the bigger thing.â
Mum had cried then. Sheâd obviously been trying hard not to break down in front of Megan and make things seem much worse than they were, but after Frog-Manâs summing up of the situation, she must have thought they couldnât get any worse at all.
Dad just sat there like a blank piece of paper on a noticeboard.
Megan knew she was beaten.
It was like going to the seaside and putting every last penny into that stupid machine where the best prize never gets pushed to the front. Every last penny. And wishing you had more to shove in and make it come to you. Only you stop there, because otherwise, itâs just mad. You had to know when you were beaten â at the Amusements and in a cancer specialistâs office.
âOK, then,â she said, gazing back into Frog-Manâs eyes, trying hard not to cry, or shake, taking it on the chin. As Grandad would say.
Sister Brewster was coming down the corridor and talking to Jackson in a brisk sort of way, sounding like a teacher with a naughty boy. There seemed to be a lot of that. Somehow or other he was always in trouble, and always being caught out. Which meant he wasnât very good at it. Something about that made Megan smile, even though she was feeling absolutely rotten.
They werenât wrong when they said she might feel unwell with the chemo.
âSo thereâs this phone call, Jackson, telling me that youâre all the way down near X-ray. Correct me if Iâm wrong, but you werenât down for an X-ray this afternoon, were you?â
âNot exactly.â
â
Not exactly
. And as far as Iâm aware you arenât due an X-ray at all.â There was a pause when, no doubt, Sister Brewster would be giving him one of her looks. âJackson, you know how important it is that we have just a tiny clue about where you are. I had Kipper trying to get off the ward too. You know she watches you like a hawk.â
Sometimes Megan wished she could get off the ward. Even if it was with Jackson, even if it meant admitting she wouldnât know where to go and having to follow him around.
But Jackson seemed to prefer to disappear on his own. Megan never quite knew if he was on the ward, or had gone home, or was just wandering about the hospital. For all his chattering, he didnât tell her very much.
âSomeone phoned you to say where I was,â Jackson was telling Sister Brewster. âNo need to get so stressed. Itâs not like I hopped on the 47 bus or anything.â
âJackson â¦â
Heâd be standing there, brazening it out, as if heliked getting into trouble. They were past her room now, their voices less clear. It was no wonder Jackson wanted to escape to other places, to a change of scenery, no wonder he went walkabout. This hospital, this room, these walls and corridors, were it, were all there was, just as heâd said.
At least the little ones had a playroom. They even had a play specialist who let them mess about