I Have No Secrets

by Penny Joelson

  ‘Dan got your pulse up?’ Sarah teases. ‘You don’t fancy him, do you? He’s all mine, Jemma!’

  If only I could tell her . . .

  Mum arrives at that moment and is concerned to hear about my pulse, fussing over me.

  ‘Did you notice anything?’ Mum asks Sarah. ‘Has she been awake or asleep?’

  Sarah scowls. Mum is being a bit aggressive with the questions. Luckily she is saved from answering by the doctor. He takes my pulse again and it’s already going back to normal. My temperature and blood pressure are fine.

  ‘Nothing to worry about,’ he says, smiling at Mum and then at me.

  Sarah leaves without saying goodbye to Mum.

  There’s a strange feeling when I am finally home. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like things have shifted while I’ve been away, even though it was only a couple of days. One of the chairs in the lounge has been moved round and there’s a small spiky plant in a pot on the hall shelf. It wasn’t there before. There’s always been a china elephant on that shelf and nothing else, but he’s been pushed along and the spiky plant is in the middle. Am I getting as bad as Finn – not liking any change?

  The second, far more important thing is that Sarah isn’t here. Mum gave her extra time off because she’d spent so much time at the hospital with me. Sarah’s gone to stay with Dan – like he wanted.

  I want her here and I’m worried about her being alone with him; she has no idea what he’s really like. What if she lets something slip about going to the concert with Richard? What if Dan already knows that something is going on?

  Finn comes in and I hope for some sign that he’s pleased I’m back. Maybe I should know better – but I’ve always felt we understand each other. I can hear him moving about behind me, but he doesn’t let me see him. Then I hear a sound I’ve heard before.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  He is banging his head against the wall – rhythmically, over and over.

  ‘Stop, Finn!’ I want to yell. Finn used to do this a lot. But the last two years he’s done it much less. I think me being away and the change to his routine may have really upset him. Perhaps that’s why he’s staying there, behind me. He wants me to know he’s angry. I feel so bad. I don’t want to upset Finn.

  ‘Oh, Finn! There’s no need for that,’ says Mum, coming into the lounge. ‘Let’s find something for you to play with.’

  My muscles relax as Mum takes the matchsticks out of the cupboard and Finn starts lining them up.

  ‘Look what’s come today!’ Mum is waving an envelope at me.

  I get a gush of happiness as I watch her open it. A letter! A letter from Jodi.

  ‘Dear Jemma,’ Mum reads.

  ‘I was so excited when your mum wrote and said she had read my letter to you. I hope you were as pleased as I was to find out you have a sister!

  ‘She says she really hopes to find a way for you to communicate so you can write back or even talk to me one day. That would be so cool. I looked online and I found stuff about head pointers and eye-gaze technology – it all sounds so clever! I’ve been reading up about cerebral palsy too. I really want to understand what it’s like.

  ‘I’ve printed out a photo of Fluff, this time. I hope your mum will send me one of you.

  ‘I hope we will be able to meet one day soon!

  ‘Love, Jodi x x x. ’

  ‘She sounds lovely, doesn’t she, Jemma?’ Mum says, sighing. ‘I know she’s keen to meet you and I’m sure you’d like to meet her too, but I still think it’s best to take things slowly. I’d like to see Professor Spalding first.’

  Finn has stopped lining up sticks and is sitting, rocking.

  I understand what Mum’s saying. It would be amazing to be able to ‘talk’ to Jodi somehow. Even just with a ‘yes’ and ‘no’. But I don’t know how long I’d have to wait. I want to meet Jodi now.

  16

  When Dan drops Sarah off the next day Mum thanks him for the plant he bought. No wonder I didn’t like it.

  ‘You’re looking so much better, Jem,’ Sarah tells me, smiling warmly. We’re in the bathroom and Sarah has just emptied my bag. ‘You gave me a scare, you really did.’

  I gave myself a scare too. But right now I’m more interested in whether Sarah had her talk with Dan about moving in.

  ‘Your mum was telling me that the professor guy is going to be back at Carlstone College next Thursday,’ Sarah continues, ‘just for a day. After that he’s off to the US for three months. I think we should go for it if you’re feeling well enough.’

  I’m still feeling tired after my infection, but I do want to meet him. Even if there’s only a small chance of anything changing. Now Mum’s fixed on me meeting him before she’ll let me meet Jodi, I have an even greater incentive than before. But if he can’t help me, will I still get to meet her?

  Sarah is pushing me towards the kitchen for dinner when she stops and I jolt in the chair. Her phone is ringing upstairs.

  ‘I’ll just get it – it might be Dan. I won’t be a sec.’

  She leaves me outside the kitchen. Mum’s not in there, but I can see Olivia through the doorway. She’s on a stool by the kitchen counter. What is she up to? She climbs on to the counter top and opens a high cupboard, the one where Mum keeps the sweets. She has a bag of Haribos in her hand as she jumps down and I see her stash them in the pocket of her jeans.

  Sarah’s back. ‘It was Richard,’ she whispers, ‘about the concert. I can’t wait!’

  I’m glad she’s confiding in me again. It feels more normal. For a moment I imagine that I’m going with Sarah instead of Richard. I’d definitely be just as excited as she is. I’ve seen concerts on TV and I think it would be amazing to hear a band live, especially Glowlight.

  It is macaroni cheese for dinner. I like pasta, but cheese sauce sometimes gets stuck in my throat and makes me cough. Sarah is feeding me. Finn’s not eating but is rocking backwards and forwards in his chair. He’s not so keen on pasta either – maybe because it is so curvy – especially macaroni. Olivia has wolfed hers down.

  She looks at Sarah. ‘Do you like staying all night with Dan?’ she giggles.

  ‘Yeah, I had a great time, thanks,’ Sarah tells her.

  ‘Did you have sex?’

  I cough up some cheese sauce.

  ‘Olivia!’ Dad splutters. ‘You don’t ask people questions like that.’

  ‘I was only interested.’ Olivia’s mouth turns sulky.

  I stop coughing. Sarah wipes my mouth with some kitchen towel and gives me a drink. Her cheeks are pink.

  ‘How was school?’ Dad asks Olivia.

  ‘Melissa’s not my friend any more,’ Olivia tells him.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a friend called Melissa,’ Mum comments.

  ‘She was only my friend for one day and now she’s not,’ says Olivia.

  ‘Why’s that?’ asks Dad.

  ‘I don’t wanna talk about it.’ Olivia folds her arms.

  Dad turns his attention to trying to coax Finn to eat. He has a few mouthfuls.

  ‘I think we should take Jemma to meet that guy,’ Sarah tells Mum. ‘She seems to have made a good recovery, haven’t you, Jemma?’

  ‘That’s great,’ says Mum and she actually gives Sarah what looks like a genuine smile. ‘I think so too.’

  I’m relieved that the decision is made and even more relieved to see Mum and Sarah talking normally to each other. Olivia and Finn go off to play while Sarah finishes feeding me and Dad turns on the radio for the news.

  I’m not really listening until I catch the name Ryan Blake. Dad turns it up and shushes everyone.

  ‘Jay Wiggins, who was charged last week with the murder of Ryan Blake, has been released after a witness came forward corroborating his alibi. The twenty-five-year-old car mechanic had been in custody for a week. He described his relief that his name has been cleared, saying that the whole experience had been a “complete nightmare”.’

  Sarah’s phone, now in her pocket, rin
gs even before the news item has finished.

  ‘Sorry,’ she says, taking it out and looking as if she is switching it off.

  ‘Jay Wiggins?’ says Dad. ‘Is he someone Paula knew about? Did she ever mention him?’

  ‘Not that I can recall,’ says Mum.

  ‘Well, looks like the police got it wrong. Hopefully he’s not the only suspect they identified.’

  Maybe they do have another suspect. Maybe it’s Dan. Sarah says nothing about it, of course, as she gets me ready for bed. She starts reading me a vampire romance book. I like it and it makes a change from Agatha Christie.

  Her phone keeps buzzing as she reads. I get a glimpse of the screen one time it does as she picks it up. I see Dan’s name. It’s there and then it fades away again.

  17

  I doze on and off for most of the journey to Carlstone College – Mum’s decided we will do it in a day, so we leave really early. Any time I open my eyes, Sarah is either texting or looking at her phone. When I wake up again, I’m refreshed, if a bit stiff. We’ve arrived.

  Mum lowers the ramp and Sarah detaches the wheelchair from its clamps and wheels me down.

  ‘Thank God the traffic was good,’ Mum comments.

  ‘And the sun’s come out for us too,’ adds Sarah.

  I share their optimisim as I am turned to face the college building. It is modern and bigger than I expected. I’d had an image in my mind from a film set in an old boarding school. This is nothing like that.

  The glass doors open automatically as we approach and we are welcomed by the smiling face of the woman at the reception desk. She tells us to take a seat and wait.

  Sarah wheels me into a space beside some seats, and she and Mum sit down.

  Opposite me I can see a certificate on the wall that says Carlstone College, Centre of Excellence for Augmentative and Alternative Communication. I’ve heard Mum talking about AAC and I knew it was to do with communication systems for people who can’t speak, but I never knew what it stood for until now. I don’t know what ‘augmentative’ means, though.

  Students pass us – some in wheelchairs, some being pushed, some pushing themselves and others walking. They all look much older than me. I wonder what it would be like to be a student here. I have to admit I get a tingle of excitement at the thought before the fear and worries about everything it would mean take over. I won’t think about all that now. Instead I distract myself by wondering what the professor will look like. I don’t have to wait long to find out.

  A tall man with thick curly hair comes striding towards us.

  ‘You must be Jemma,’ he says, crouching to make eye contact. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’ He attempts to shake my stiff, curled hand. He has kind eyes and he is looking deeply into mine. I feel slightly afraid. My eyes give nothing away – I know that.

  He turns to greet Mum and Sarah. I’m glad he spoke to me first.

  ‘Follow me,’ he tells us.

  We follow him down a wide corridor. There are ramps everywhere and the ride is smooth. The big windows throw squares of brightness on to the clean red floor.

  We stop at a door, which Professor Spalding opens and holds for us as we all go in.

  The room is like a doctor’s office, with desk, computer and chairs. There is a spiky plant on the windowsill. I hope that isn’t a bad omen.

  ‘I very much hope I can help you, Jemma,’ he tells me. ‘As you know, new communication systems are being developed all the time.’

  ‘Yes,’ says Mum. ‘We’ve tried various kinds of AAC with Jemma and also with our son who has severe autism. We’ve not had much luck, to be honest, with either of them.’

  Professor Spalding nods. ‘But you believe Jemma understands cause and effect?’

  ‘Definitely,’ says Mum. ‘She was able to communicate “yes” and “no” by blinking when she was ten. She was taught to read and we know that she understands a huge amount. We’re sure she laughs sometimes too.’ Mum goes on to explain about my illness. Then she adds, ‘I know some of these communication systems can be expensive, but Jemma does have some funds from a medical negligence case. The money pays for her to have her own carer. It’s not a bottomless pit, though.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ says Professor Spalding, tapping his pencil on the table. ‘We can worry about funding later. I’d like to do a few tests that will help me assess the best means of communication for you, Jemma. You must understand that even if we find a way, it will take some time to master. Babies learn to speak by making sounds, babbling and then gradually learning to express words. Even though your understanding may be good, it will not be easy for you to put phrases together, select words, etc. You will have to be patient.’

  Patience is something I know plenty about – though I am feeling impatient now. I wish he’d stop talking and get on with it.

  He tries to get me to look left and right. The first time he asks I am able to do it. He looks so pleased. But when he asks me to repeat it I can’t. I try. I try so hard. I see the pleasure turn to disappointment as the light in his eyes fades.

  He tries to see if I can move anything else – tilt my head, lift a finger, clench a cheek, open and close my mouth. My body sometimes moves. My head jolts. I automatically close my mouth to swallow food, but I cannot do it voluntarily. He asks me to make sounds too, but I can’t – not intentionally.

  He even tells a bad joke about a chicken, but it isn’t funny enough to make me laugh. I can only laugh spontaneously, I can’t make it happen.

  He soon realises what I already know.

  I have no control.

  18

  ‘What makes you so certain that Jemma’s brain is unaffected by her illness?’ the professor asks Mum and Sarah.

  I can’t see their faces – but I know they both believe in me.

  ‘It’s an instinct,’ says Mum. ‘We both feel it.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah agrees.

  ‘My husband too,’ says Mum. ‘And the doctors said at the time there was no reason why it should have been affected.’

  Professor Spalding touches his lip and looks at me thoughtfully.

  What is he thinking? Does he think I’m brain-dead?

  ‘Can you sniff for me, Jemma?’ he asks.

  Sniff ? I think he’s mad now.

  ‘Breathe in through your nose – as hard as you can,’ he tells me.

  For a moment I panic – I can’t think how. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about before. It’s also so rare that anyone actually asks me to do anything. Then I calm myself. I have to hurry or he might give up.

  I sniff.

  ‘Now breathe out through your nose.’

  I can do that too – though I’d love to know where he’s going with this.

  ‘Now again,’ he says.

  I breathe in and out through my nose. I am pleased to be able to actually respond, but also confused. Everybody knows that I can breathe.

  ‘Hmmm,’ says Professor Spalding. ‘Interesting.’

  He pauses.

  ‘I don’t think the eye movements are going to be useful,’ he tells me, turning to Mum and Sarah too. ‘They are not consistent enough. However, a colleague of mine is developing a new communication tool, based on sniffing. It’s hard to tell if Jemma would have enough control, but it might be worth a try.’

  ‘Communicate with sniffing?’ Sarah repeats. ‘I’ve never heard of that!’

  I sniff again, just to make sure they know I can do it.

  Professor Spalding continues. ‘My colleague Alon Katz and his team are based in Israel. When he’s next in the UK perhaps he could meet you and see if it might be suitable. We hope he’ll be over in a few months.’

  A few months! That’s so long!

  Could I really use sniffing to communicate, though? Would I be able to say the things I want and need to say? I think about Dan. Can you sniff that someone is a murderer?

  19

  After lunch Catherine, the deputy head of the college, shows us round. She has bea
utiful shiny dark hair and a warm smile, and she is so bubbly and jokey with the students that I sense she loves working here.

  ‘We have students using all kinds of AAC devices,’ she tells us. She introduces us to some of the students. One girl, who is only able to raise one eyebrow, proudly shows us that she can select words on a computer and move between screens for different categories of words. She raises her eyebrow repeatedly until the pointer reaches the word she wants on the screen and then she stops. After a second, the word appears on the line below. Then she carries on. It’s very slow, but eventually she types, I GO MUSIC, and a voice speaks her words.

  ‘Don’t let us hold you up, Kaya!’ says Catherine. Then she adds, ‘Kaya’s a total music geek.’

  I feel a gut-wrenching pull. How amazing it would be to spell out words on a screen like that. Would I be able to do it – by sniffing? Is it possible? We see the bedrooms and bathrooms, which are bright and spacious. Two students share each room so I realise I’d have a room-mate if I came here.

  Mum says, ‘I think this would be a fantastic place for you in a few years’ time. What do you think, Jemma?’

  Sarah smiles at me too.

  Catherine and Mum start discussing funding applications, but I am thinking about what she said. A few years’ time! They weren’t planning to send me here sooner. I was worrying for no reason.

  On the journey home I start to feel giddy. Sarah notices I am flushed and gets Mum to pull over. My temperature is up. She gives me medicine. We have to stop three times. I feel every jolt and jerk of the car. Then we are stuck in traffic.

  ‘She doesn’t look well,’ Mum moans. ‘This was a mistake.’

  ‘We didn’t know the traffic would be like this,’ says Sarah. ‘It’s just bad luck.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure,’ says Mum. ‘I thought it might be too soon – but you convinced me.’

  ‘You said you felt the same!’ Sarah protests, her voice getting louder and higher. ‘We both wanted to do it. Stop blaming me for stuff !’

  ‘Calm down,’ says Mum, even though her voice is just as agitated. ‘I wasn’t . . . Look, we both want the best for Jemma. Let’s not row about it.’