Artichoke Hearts
Page 22
‘What’s that?’ she asks, pointing at Millie’s holey-stone necklace.
Here goes, I think. Now she’ll go in for the kill.
‘It’s a present from Mira.’
Then Orla notices my holey stone, which I’ve forgotten to tuck inside my blouse.
‘My nana and me, we used to collect them on the beach.’
Orla nods.
‘Could you get me one?’ she asks, smiling shyly at me.
I can’t believe that Orla Banks wants me, Mira Levenson, to find her a holey stone!
‘Looks like your nana’s started a new craze,’ laughs Millie.
At break we sit on our wall, Millie and me, as if nothing’s changed . . .
‘You found your charm then?’ Millie picks up my wrist to get a closer look.
‘Turns out I never lost it,’ I say.
She tells me about her holiday and I tell her about Nana Josie’s funeral. I want to tell her about pretending to go to hers for tea but going to Jidé’s instead, and about Jidé and his sister and Pat Print turning up at Nana’s funeral . . . and about my dreams . . . but somehow I can’t think of a way to tell her any of these things. Suddenly I remember my deal with Notsurewho Notsurewhat the day I saw Pat Print on the beach; the day I found Millie’s holey stone.
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ I ask Millie.
She shoots me one of her ‘Do you have to be so random?’ looks.
‘No, Mira, definitely not.’
That’s what I love about Millie. She’s always so sure about everything.
‘How about spirits or angels then?’
‘I spy with my little eye . . .’ Millie stares through her new holey stone, scanning the sky for signs of spirits or angels.
‘None that I can see,’ she laughs, focusing her gaze closer to home until it comes to rest on Ben Gbemi.
And through the eye of my holey stone I spy Jidé Jackson striding towards me, closer and closer . . . Nana Josie’s voice fills my head . . .
‘People who need charms, you’ll know them when you meet them.’
Writing a first novel is quite a journey. Although the author’s name is on the front cover of a book, there are so many other people behind that name who have also made huge contributions to making a dream become a reality. Firstly I wish to thank my husband, Leo, who has given me the love, time, encouragement and support needed to write a novel in the midst of bringing up a young family; my children, Maya, Keshin and Esha-Lily, who are a constant inspiration to me. I would especially like to thank my daughter, Maya Harrison, whose extraordinary relationship with her grandmother is at the heart of this book.
I have been blessed with the most beautiful (in every sense) agent and editor in publishing! I wish to thank my agent, Sophie Gorell Barnes at MBA Literary Agency, for championing Artichoke Hearts, and my editor, Samantha Swinnerton at Macmillan Children’s Books, for being so passionate about this book, and for crying when she first read it (apparently Sam doesn’t cry easily, so her tears made her fellow editorial team sit up and take notice!).
Thanks also to authors Maria Beaumont and Louise Millar, playwright Noël Greig and poet Wendy Jones, for their encouragement and insightful reading of early drafts; to Maria Levenson, for lending me her surname and sunny support; Sophie Lockhart, for her excellent criticism and permission to use a little of her character; Gabrielle Bikhazi, who looked after Esha-Lily while I wrote; the unique Simon Gould; Mira Basak, my greatly missed aunt and namesake for my heroine, and I wish to thank my mum, Freda Brahmachari, for her love, courage and spirit.
Final thanks are for Bill Tyler, Diana Tyler, Leo Harrison and Trilby Harrison, for giving me permission to write a story inspired by an extraordinary woman loved and remembered by so many family and friends. On behalf of our whole family I would like to express our gratitude for the work of the Marie Curie Hospice. Sadly, part of growing up is having to say goodbye to treasured loved ones – perhaps those who have passed away deserve our greatest acknowledgement for the gifts that they have bestowed on us. So it is that I send my most heartfelt thanks to my father-in-law, Bernie ‘The Book’ Harrison; the beautiful, bohemian inspiration of this book, Rosie Harrison, and my beloved father, Dr Amal Krishna Brahmachari.
Dear Reader,
I know that some people like to know a bit about the author, but deep down I think a writer’s job is to do a bit of a disappearing act and let the characters and the story take over. So I’ll keep it brief. I was born in Derby in 1966. My dad was an Indian doctor from Kolkata, and my mum an English nurse from the Lake District. I have two sisters and a brother. As a child I was a daydreamer and late to learn to read, but once I got going no one could prise me away from the magical world of books. I always dreamed of becoming a writer, and now, with my first novel, Artichoke Hearts, my wish has been granted! This just goes to show you should never give up on your dreams.
I live in London with my husband, Leo, and three children, Maya, Keshin and Esha-Lily, and a handsome cat with a serious attitude problem called Smokey-blue, because that’s what colour he was as a kitten, but now he’s just an ordinary brown tabby . . . maybe that’s his problem!
Like Smokey-blue’s colour, things change in life, and the things that change can change you too. Artichoke Hearts is a book about a month in a girl’s life when just about everything changes.
I hope you enjoy reading about a world that might just have something to do with you. Whenever I disappear into a book I come out as a slightly different person. I hope you do too. Let me know.
First published 2011 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2011 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
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ISBN 978-0-330-54506-8 PDF
ISBN 978-0-330-54503-7 EPUB
Copyright © Sita Brahmachari 2011
The right of Sita Brahmachari to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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