by Celia Bryce
She could do all that.
The air around her moved, as if given permission to. A small breeze riffled the leaves, breathing them to life.
But there was just one thing.
None of this could happen until she spoke to Gemma and told her everything. It would have to start with Gemma.
Megan took out her mobile. It was the first number that came up. Always had been. Always would be.
‘Gemma?’
There was a pause, like that gap after a flash of lightning, before the thunder comes, a pause which leaves you hoping that the crash won’t be too loud, too frightening. Megan wondered if Gemma would just switch off her phone, refuse to answer. She wouldn’t blame her, wouldn’t be surprised. What more did she deserve?
‘Hi.’ Gemma’s voice was low, flat. ‘You still haven’t gone, then?’
It felt like an accusation.
‘I’m on the six o’clock train.’ It was the truth. No more lies. ‘I’ve got to get packed and everything, but …’
A car engine screeched just then and a crowd of birds exploded from next door’s tree. Megan had never seen so many in one go. She watched them melt into the sky as if they’d never existed.
‘Are you still there? Megan?’
‘Sorry. Yeah. I was going to ask … if I can come over. For a little while? Once I’ve packed my stuff.’
‘… OK …’ Gemma didn’t sound very sure, as if this might be a nasty trick and she wasn’t to be trusted any more. Her best friend and everything.
‘It’s just … I need to tell you something.’
And then she began to cry, because it came to her, as suddenly as those birds from out of the tree, that Gemma would have understood, if only she’d told her before.
Weeks ago.
Months ago.
She would have known what to say.
It wasn’t about cancer or having a tumour or chemo. Things her friends were scared of. This was just about a boy. And they could have laughed together about Jackson, about all the things he said and did, about all that trouble he got himself into.
And then they could have cried together.
It would have felt better.
But here she was on her own. Crying.
‘Megan? What’s wrong? I’m coming round. Right now.’ Gemma. All hurt forgotten. Gemma, who couldn’t bear to know anyone was upset, least of all her best friend.
‘No, it’s OK … I need to … tell you about someone I met,’ Megan said, at last, dragging a hand across her eyes. ‘Someone in hospital.’
Another pause. As if Gemma herself had tried to solve an unsolvable puzzle, just as she had done, and now the missing piece was found.
‘What’s his name?’ Gemma asked, her voice gentle. Of course, she would know it was a boy, without being told.
The world seemed to shift then, as if for so long it had been blown out of place by some awful earthquake or a volcano. It was settling back to where it should be. It would never be quite the same. How could it? But somehow, that was enough.
‘Jackson,’ Megan began, as if there was a long, long story to tell. ‘He was called Jackson Dawes.’
Jackson Dawes, he’s as tall as doors,
standing in his battered old hat,
singing his battered old songs,
slapping his fingers down the length of the stand
like an upright bass.
Badum, dum, dum, dum; badum, dum, dum, dum.
His hips swing gently,
his head nods,
his smile is wide,
big as the sun,
as if this is just any other day,
as if the world can’t get any better,
as if the future is brighter than stars.
My Inspiration for
Anthem for Jackson Dawes
What inspired me to write this book? That’s such a hard question to answer. As for pinpointing the exact date or time when the inspiration came, I can’t do it. I don’t know if I was sitting on a bus or a train, or just staring out of a window at home. I don’t know if I saw a picture, or watched a film or read a book, or just gazed out into space instead of working. I certainly wasn’t sitting in a children’s cancer ward and I’m fairly sure that a sudden light did not flick on in my head. My brain doesn’t work like that.
The story emerged, is all I can say, from a whole series of stories swimming around inside me. It floated to the top sometimes, then drifted away again like some kind of mysterious fish. Perhaps it would never have been caught and the story never written if it wasn’t for some very good people who said, That’s the story you want. That one there, about a girl and a boy who meet in hospital.
Thank goodness for those people, because they were right. I know about hospitals, having worked in them. I know about young people because once I was one and still remember how hard it can be sometimes. I know about illness and how it can affect a person. And writing about the things you know is usually the best place to start.
But I didn’t want the story to be confined to two young people being stuck on a children’s ward. I couldn’t just write about Megan and Jackson, when they had mums and dads and friends who were all affected by their being in hospital. I couldn’t just write about how Megan and Jackson felt, which was pretty bad at times, without thinking through and exploring how their families and friends felt, which was also pretty bad.
We all feel stranded sometimes, like travellers washed up on an island with no hope of getting off. Sometimes we forget that there are people who love us and care about us and will try all they can to help. Sometimes we forget that we are stronger than we know. I think Megan and Jackson were much stronger than they knew.
Perhaps they inspired me.
Yes. I think that may be the answer.
Celia Bryce
Acknowledgements
With grateful thanks to: Sam Smith, Teenage Cancer Trust Nurse Consultant (The Christie NHS Foundation Trust, Manchester), who read various extracts of the book, and advised on medical and nursing procedures. Sandra Barlow, Senior Sister (Teenage Cancer Unit, Royal Victoria Infirmary, Newcastle), who showed me around the amazing unit on Tyneside. Doctor Kate Hodges, Doctor Steve Hodges and Nurse Paul Heslop, who helped me with various other hospital details. My very good writing friends, Sonia Royal, Dorothy Brownlee and Michael Doolan, who read my manuscript and gave their valuable opinions and critical analysis. Young friends and relations, Sara Bradshaw, Amy Brown, Kate Hudson, Lucy Hudson and Kate Walmsley, who took the time, over the years it has taken to write this book, to read one or more of its many drafts and to give me their thoughts on the story. Members of the Marsden Writers’ Group, who have patiently followed every step of this amazing writing journey. Helen Corner and Kathryn Price, at Cornerstones Literary Consultancy, who gave me superb editorial advice when the story was still very new and needed lots of rewriting. James Catchpole, at the Celia Catchpole Literary Agency, who had enough faith in Megan and Jackson’s story to take me on and who then worked tirelessly at finding me a publisher. Emma Matthewson and the editing staff at Bloomsbury, who have worked with me over the last eighteen months, fine-tuning and polishing my manuscript, turning it into a book I can be proud of and making me a very happy writer indeed. My husband, Colin, and daughters, Lucy and Kate, who have given me their unwavering support and who, I know, will always share my writing dream. And finally, very special and heartfelt thanks to the families of Deanna and Vaila, who kindly allowed me to dedicate this book to them.
Copyright © 2013 by Celia Bryce
First published in the United States of America in 2013
by Bloomsbury Books for Young Readers
E-book edition published in April 2013
www.bloomsbury.com
For information about permission to reproduce selections from his book, write to Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
All rights reserved
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bryce, Celia.
Anthem for Jackson Dawes / by Celia Bryce. —1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Summary: When Megan, thirteen, arrives for her first cancer treatment, she is frustrated
to be on the pediatric unit where the only other teen is Jackson Dawes, who is as cute and
charming as he is rebellious and annoying, and who helps when her friends are frightened
away by her illness.
[1. Cancer—Fiction. 2. Hospitals—Fiction. 3. Medical care—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction.
5. Family life—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B8427Ant 2013 [Fic]—dc23 2012024989
eISBN: 978-1-6196-3068-0 (e-book)