‘Come on, Cam. Don’t get too comfy – we have dinner to make.’ Nan leapt to her feet.
I followed more slowly. I had a lot to think about. ‘Nan,’ I said as she headed out of the door.
‘Yes, dear?’
‘I’m glad you’re here.’
‘Of course you are!’ Nan smiled. ‘And it seems to me I arrived only just in time!’
When we got to the kitchen, Nan started by investigating the fridge. ‘I think some of my fried chicken, some baked potatoes and veggies ought to do the trick.’
‘Your fried chicken?’ I asked suspiciously. ‘Does that involve just taking some chicken out of a packet and putting it in the oven or is there chopping and slicing and dicing involved?’
‘Taking some chicken out of a packet?’ Nan was scandalized. ‘I don’t think so!’
‘Can I watch?’ I asked, hoping Nan wouldn’t spot what I was trying to do.
‘No, you can help!’ she replied at once. ‘You may be smart, child, but I’m smarter!’
Worth a try!
‘The first thing you can do though,’ said Nan, ‘is change the light bulb in the spare bedroom for me. I want to see where I’m going when I go to bed tonight, before I end up sleeping on the window sill!’
‘OK, Nan,’ I said, glad to get out of the cooking. Now all I had to do was drag out changing the light bulb for an hour or so, until the worst was over.
‘I want you back down here in five minutes – maximum,’ said Nan. ‘Or I’ll come upstairs to fetch you – and you don’t want that.’
‘Are you reading my mind or something?’ I asked, impressed.
Nan laughed. ‘Now if I told you that, you’d know as much as I do!’
I went over to the light-bulb drawer. When I opened it, it was like opening a jack-in-the-box. Letters and more letters sprang out of it, falling to the floor. Huffing impatiently I squatted down to pick them up.
‘Let me do that,’ Nan said quickly.
‘It’s OK, I’ve got them.’ I waved her off.
‘No, Cameron, you go and change the light bulb.’
I frowned up at Nan. She was nervous, agitated. What was her problem? Did she think my new heart might collapse with the strain of squatting down? I smiled to reassure her. ‘Nan, I’m here now. It’ll only take me two seconds. And Dr Bryce didn’t say anything about not bending down!’
As I reached out for a handful of the papers, I caught sight of my name on one of the letters. So I picked it up and read it.
And I wish I hadn’t.
L. E. P. A.R.
LEAGUE FOR THE PROTECTION OF ANIMAL RIGHTS
Mr and Mrs Kelsey,
We at LEPAR find you totally immoral and despicable. How could you condone the suffering of innocent animals – because that’s what you’ve done by allowing your son Cameron to have the heart of a pig transplanted into his body. Pigs are intelligent animals with thoughts and feelings just like yourselves. Would you feel it right to have humans bred for the sole purpose of being killed to allow others to use their organs? If it is not right for humans, why do you feel that such action is right and correct for animals?
We understand your concern for your son. Heart disease is a terrible affliction but it is your attempted solution that we find so reprehensible . . .
I didn’t read any more. I couldn’t. I picked up another of the letters. It was even worse, rage and anger spilling from every word on the page. I picked up another and another. Threats and more threats made against me, against Mum and Dad, against our house, our car. It was horrible. Some of the letters accused Mum and Dad of only letting me have the operation so they could cash in on the resulting publicity. Some were from animal lovers who sympathized with Mum and Dad’s position but asked if they had explored all the options. Some were actually from people wishing us well but they were few and far between. Most were just nasty.
Profoundly shocked, I looked up at Nan. ‘Have you seen these?’ I asked.
‘Some of them,’ Nan admitted. ‘They’re today’s batch of letters. I read some of them when I arrived this morning. I didn’t know your mum had put them in there. I wish she’d told me.’
‘Today’s batch?’ I stared. ‘You mean we get these every day?’
‘Every single day.’
‘But why do Mum and Dad keep them?’ I looked down at the pile of letters again. It couldn’t have been more loathsome if it’d been a pile of horse manure on the kitchen floor.
‘The police advised them to keep the worst ones – just in case someone tries something. So each night, after you’re in bed, they go through them.’
I picked up another.
‘No, Cameron. Put it down. Don’t read any more,’ Nan ordered gently.
‘These people hate me. They don’t even know me and they hate me. What’ve I ever done to them?’ I said, bewildered.
‘Cameron, it’s not you. It’s what you represent. You mustn’t take it personally.’
But how could I take it any other way? These people really hated me and Mum and Dad for what we’d done. I shook my head. ‘Why didn’t Mum and Dad tell me?’
‘What for? Why upset you too?’
‘Can’t the police do something about them?’
‘Like what? People are perfectly free to post letters wherever and whenever they please in this country,’ said Nan.
‘Do people really believe that Mum and Dad only let me have the operation for the money they could make?’ I asked, appalled at the very idea of it.
‘Some do. Your dad has had to put up with a lot of nonsense at work and your mum reckons her company is on the verge of letting her go. They keep getting inundated with people trying to get in touch with her.’
‘But she’s not going back until next week.’
‘Well, these people either don’t know that, or don’t believe it, or just don’t care,’ said Nan.
She bent down to pick up the letters, some still in their envelopes, most just crumpled sheets of paper.
‘That’s why Mum and Dad wouldn’t take the money those two newspapers offered, isn’t it?’ I realized. ‘Because then all those people who accused them of only doing it for the money would think they were right.’
‘Your mum and dad wouldn’t have taken that money no matter what the circumstances,’ Nan told me firmly.
We stuffed the letters back in the drawer. Nan took out a light bulb before firmly pushing the drawer shut. ‘Now, I believe you were going to change my light bulb.’ She handed the bulb to me.
I nodded and turned to leave the room.
‘Cameron?’
‘Yes, Nan?’
‘Don’t let it get you down – OK?’
I forced a smile as I left the kitchen, thinking it was much too late for that. Thousands and thousands of people out there didn’t know anything about us except what they’d read in the newspapers and yet, to them, we were the scum of the earth. And Julie and her mum were among them. I told myself not to mind, not to let them get to me but I’d be lying if I said that at that moment, I didn’t feel like shouting at the top of my voice or kicking something.
Chapter Twenty-One
Blood
I jiggled about impatiently as Dad asked Dr Bryce about the weather in Yorkshire. When was he going to get to the point?
‘No . . . No, Cameron’s fine. He wants to go swimming tomorrow so I thought I’d check with you first,’ said Dad and, from his tone of voice, it sounded as if he wanted the doctor to say no. ‘Yes . . . OK, I’ll put him on,’ he said reluctantly and handed me the phone.
‘Hi, Dr Bryce.’
‘Hello, Cameron. How’re you feeling?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
‘I’ll be down on Friday to give you your weekly check-up,’ said Dr Bryce. ‘You’re doing so well I think we can make them fortnightly, and we’ll see about your local hospital taking over some of your care.’
‘Great,’ I replied. ‘Can I go swimming tomorrow?’
‘Well, swim
ming is very good exercise so I don’t see why not, as long as you don’t overdo it. Take it easy and don’t stay in for longer than half an hour. Don’t forget you’ve got to build up slowly. We don’t want to push it.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.’ I grinned down the phone.
‘Could you pass me back to your father, please?’ asked the doctor.
I gave the phone back to Dad. ‘Dr Bryce says I can go,’ I told him and I charged up the stairs. I could make it all the way to the top without pausing or having to stop and catch my breath. I still couldn’t get over that.
‘Dr Bryce isn’t your dad,’ Dad called after me, adding apologetically, ‘Excuse me, Dr Bryce, I didn’t mean to yell in your ear.’
I stuck my head over the banister on the landing. ‘So can I go or not?’
‘Cam, I’m on the phone.’
‘Dad?’
‘Just a sec, Dr Bryce.’ Dad put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘OK, but I’ll come with you.’
‘No way!’ I was appalled. ‘I’m not dragging you around with me everywhere I go like unwanted luggage.’
‘Thank you very much!’ Dad raised his eyebrows.
‘No, I mean it, Dad. You can’t come with me. I’d never live it down. All the other boys would think I was a right sissy!’
Dad frowned. ‘Oh, all right then. You can go, but only if you promise to—’
‘I promise!’ I called back and ran into my room.
I was going swimming. And this was only the start. At that moment, I really and truly believed I was going to live for ever. And it felt wonderful.
When at last the buzzer sounded, half the class leapt out of their seats before Mr Stewart could finish his sentence. ‘Er . . . complete the next two exercises for your homework and I want it first thing on Thursday morning – and no excuses,’ Mr Stewart shouted above the noise.
He legged it out of the room, leaving us to it. I was going swimming immediately after school but at that moment I wasn’t thinking about swimming. I only had one thing on my mind – Julie. I marched straight over to her table, where she stood talking to her friends.
‘Julie,’ I said, standing behind her.
When she turned, I deliberately coughed in her face without covering my mouth. That would teach her. She shied away, wiping her face vigorously with her hands.
‘I’m just giving you some of my piggy germs,’ I told her viciously.
I walked back to my desk, aware that everyone in the class was watching. As I sat down, Marlon turned to look at me but he didn’t say a word.
Andrew prodded me in the back. ‘Cam, that wasn’t very nice.’
‘Neither was what she said to me yesterday,’ I reminded him.
‘And that makes it OK, does it?’ Andrew asked.
I glared at him, but as I looked around the class I saw something I’d never seen on the faces of everyone around me – dislike. And as I turned to look at Julie, to my horror I saw that she was crying. It was such a shock. I thought she’d flare up or scream at me or call me all the names under the sun – but she was crying. I bent my head and pretended to be looking for something in my bag. But inside I was choking up, I was so ashamed of myself. I felt like dirt. How could I have done that? All day I’d been thinking of some way to get my own back on Julie and everyone else like her who thought I was untouchable so now that I’d done it, why didn’t I feel any better? I retrieved a crumpled but clean tissue from my bag and went over to Julie. Without a word, I held it out to her. She knocked my hand away and turned her back on me.
The tissue fluttered to the ground. I went back to my desk, knowing that I’d blown it.
‘You’ve changed since your operation, d’you know that?’ Andrew told me as we walked along.
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Yes, you have.’
‘How?’ It was as if every atom in my body had become still, waiting for the answer.
‘You’re more pushy,’ said Andrew.
‘I think the word you’re looking for is confident,’ I said.
‘And you’re more arrogant.’ Andrew was getting into his stride now.
‘Sure of myself,’ I corrected.
‘Full of yourself,’ Andrew amended.
I looked at Rashid and Marlon. They didn’t say a word but it was obvious who they agreed with.
‘And where did all this come from?’ I asked bitterly.
‘Before, you would never have treated Julie like that, no matter what the provocation,’ Andrew replied without hesitation. ‘That was more like something Travis would do.’
That stung. ‘So you think all this is because of my new heart, do you?’ I asked scathingly.
‘I’m not Julie,’ said Andrew. ‘A heart is just a pump. It’s not the real you, that’s all.’
‘But you’re saying that the real me has become pushy and arrogant – just ’cos I can stand up for myself now?’
‘I don’t know.’ Andrew shrugged. ‘Maybe It’s just the contrast. Before, you wouldn’t say boo to a flea and now it’s like you don’t take any prisoners.’
We carried on walking in silence. The frown on my face cut deeper and deeper. Any second now and it would be visible on the back of my head. Was that really what my friends thought? Was that really who I was becoming? Rashid and Andrew started chatting about something else and walked on ahead, leaving Marlon and me trailing behind.
I tried to find something to say. I risked a quick glance at Marlon. He had his hands in his jacket pockets and he was looking very smart.
‘Nice jacket.’ It came out of my mouth from nowhere.
Faster than I could blink, Marlon’s face whooshed bright red! I knew I was right. Andrew and Rashid were ahead of us by a couple of metres and I wanted it to stay that way. This was between me and Marlon.
‘And the shoes are new too, right?’
‘Yes,’ Marlon mumbled.
‘I suppose your whole family have new clothes now. What else did you all buy? A new car? New furniture? A new house?’
‘We haven’t got a new house. And Dad only sold your story so that we could keep our old one,’ Marlon rounded on me.
I frowned. ‘What’re you talking about?’
‘The bank were about to repossess our house ’cos Mum and Dad couldn’t afford the mortgage any more. Since Dad lost his job, things have been really hard for us.’
I glared at Marlon.
‘I know that doesn’t excuse what Dad did, or make it right,’ Marlon continued hastily. ‘But that’s why he did it – so we wouldn’t lose our home.’
‘Your mum and dad were meant to be friends with my family.’ I couldn’t keep the frost out of my voice. ‘I bet my dad wouldn’t do something like that – no matter how close he was to losing his house.’
‘Yeah, right!’ Marlon began to raise his voice. ‘So what would your dad do? Let you all get chucked out on the pavement?’
‘He wouldn’t have betrayed you to keep his house.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Marlon asked. ‘Are you telling me that if you were in my dad’s shoes, you wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing?’
‘I . . .’ My mouth snapped shut. I thought about Marlon’s dad, desperately trying to think of a way to keep his home. Would I really have done any different? Marlon and I walked on in silence. Andrew and Rashid cast the occasional glance back at us. They were probably wondering what all the raised voices were about.
‘What would you have done?’ I asked curiously.
Marlon shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t like to think I could’ve done the same thing, but I don’t know.’
‘So did your dad pay off the mortgage then?’ I asked at last.
‘Yeah. The mortgage arrears and all the other debts Mum and Dad had have been paid off. There was just enough money left over for a new pair of shoes for me and Tasha, and a new jacket for me. We’re not about to jet off to the Bahamas for a long holiday, believe me.’
I sighed.
What was I going to do? Bear a grudge or let it go? ‘Well, It’s done now.’ I shrugged. ‘My bleating about it isn’t going to change that.’
Silence.
‘So how’s Tasha?’ I asked.
This was ridiculous. Marlon and I were struggling to find things to say to each other. We’d never had to do that before. Usually the two of us could talk about anything and everything and we did. But not today. I wondered if we ever would again.
‘Tasha’s fine. Her class went to the Science Museum today, I think,’ Marlon replied.
We carried on walking in a floundering silence until Rashid and Andrew took pity on us. They took over the conversation then, talking about the last time both of them had visited the Science Museum. Marlon and I lapsed back into silence. I sighed inwardly. It was really scraping the bottom of the barrel when I had to ask Marlon about his younger sister! Marlon and I joined in the conversation but I noticed that we only ever spoke in response to what Andrew or Rashid said. By the time we reached the swimming pool I was desperate for Marlon and me to behave normally with each other again. I tried smiling at him to let him know that everything was OK but although he smiled back, he didn’t seem to have much to say.
Things will be better once we’re in the pool, I told myself. Marlon, Andrew and the others always had fun in the pool, only this time I’d be having fun with them.
‘Who’s on for Daredevil Dive?’ Andrew laughed.
‘I am!’ I got in before anyone else could answer.
Suddenly all my friends’ eyes were on me.
‘Are you sure?’ Andrew asked seriously.
‘Yep!’
‘Don’t you think you should wait a bit first?’ asked Rashid. ‘I mean, you have to dive and touch the bottom of the pool in the deep end. It’s a long way down.’
‘Don’t worry. I can handle it. And if I can’t get to the bottom, I’ll just come up again, that’s all.’
‘Cam, I’m not sure this is such a good idea . . .’ Andrew began.
‘No, if he wants to play Daredevil Dive, let him.’
I wasn’t the only one who was surprised by Marlon’s words. Usually he was the first one to tell me not to do things, to urge me to be cautious. I wondered at his sudden change of heart.
Pig-Heart Boy Page 13
