Before I Die by Jenny Downham Read Free Book Online Page A

the mucous material lining all the hollow tubes in my body. Silica strengthens the bones. Potassium, iron and copper build up the immune system. Aloe vera is for general healing. And garlic – well, Dad read somewhere that the properties of garlic are not yet properly understood. He calls it vitamin X. All washed down with unprocessed orange juice and a teaspoon of unrefined honey. Yum, yum.
    I slide the tray back in Dad’s direction with a smile. He stands up, takes it to the sink and clunks it down. ‘I thought,’ he says, turning on the tap and swirling water round the bowl, ‘that you were feeling some nausea and pain yesterday.’
    ‘I’m fine. Nothing hurts today.’
    ‘Don’t you think it might be wise to rest?’
    Which is dangerous territory, so I change the subject rapidly and turn my attention to Cal, who is mashing his cornflakes into a soggy pile. He looks just as glum as Dad.
    ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I say.
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘It’s Saturday! Aren’t you supposed to be glad about that?’
    He looks fiercely at me. ‘You don’t remember, do you?’
    ‘Remember what?’
    ‘You said you’d take me shopping in half term. You said you’d bring your credit card.’ He closes his eyes very tightly. ‘I knew you bloody wouldn’t!’
    ‘Calm down!’ Dad says in that warning voice he uses when Cal begins to lose it.
    ‘I did say that, Cal, but I can’t today.’
    He looks at me furiously. ‘I want you to!’
    So then I have to, because it’s in the rules. Number two on my list is simple. I must say yes to everything for one whole day. Whatever it is and whoever asks it of me.
    I look down at Cal’s hopeful face as we step out through the gate and suddenly feel a lurch of fear.
    ‘I’m going to text Zoey,’ I tell him. ‘Tell her we’re on our way.’
    He tells me he hates Zoey, which is tough, because I need her. Her energy. The fact that things always happen when she’s around.
    Cal says, ‘I want to go to the playground.’
    ‘Aren’t you a bit old for that?’
    ‘No. It’ll be fun.’
    I often forget he’s just a kid, that there’s a bit of him that still likes swings and roundabouts and all that stuff. Not much to harm us in the park though, and Zoey texts back to say fine, she was going to be late anyway and will meet us there.
    I sit on a bench and watch Cal climb. It’s a spider’s web of ropes and he looks so small up there.
    ‘I’m going higher!’ he shouts. ‘Shall I go right to the top?’
    ‘Yes,’ I shout back, because I promised myself. It’s in the rules.
    ‘I can see inside planes!’ he yells. ‘Come and look!’
    It’s difficult climbing in a mini-dress. The whole web of ropes swings and I have to kick my shoes to the ground. Cal laughs at me. ‘Right to the top!’ he orders. It’s really bloody high, and some kid with a face like a bus is shaking the ropes at the bottom. I haul myself up, even though my arms ache. I want to see inside planes too. I want to watch the wind and catch birds in my fist.
    I make it. I can see the top of the church, and the trees that line the park and all the conker pods ready to burst. The air is clean and the clouds are close, like being on a very small mountain. I look down at all the upturned faces.
    ‘High, isn’t it?’ Cal says.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Shall we go on the swings next?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Yes to everything you say, Cal, but first I want to feel the air circle my face. I want to watch the curve of the earth as we slowly shift round the sun.
    ‘I told you it would be fun.’ Cal’s face is shining with good humour. ‘Let’s go on everything else!’
    There’s a queue at the swings, so we go on the seesaw. I’m still heavier than him, still his big sister, and I can slam my legs on the ground so he bounces high and screams with laughter as he falls back hard on his bum. He’ll have bruises, but he doesn’t care. Say yes, just say yes.
    We go everywhere – the little house at the top of the ladder in