He turns to Mum. ‘Would you like to ask something of Jemma?’
‘Gosh,’ says Mum, coming round to face me. ‘There are so many things I want to ask, I can’t think . . .’
Mum hesitates.
‘Meeting Jodi . . .’ she says finally. ‘Are you glad you met her? Please be honest, Jemma.’
‘YES,’ I sniff.
Mum stares at me, her eyes open wide as she takes in the fact that she’s asked me a question and I have answered it. I can’t quite believe it either.
Her lip quivers and she rubs her eye. Her mouth opens and then shuts again. Then she smiles. ‘Good, I’m so relieved,’ she says. ‘I hoped so much that it was the right thing.’
‘YES,’ I sniff.
I wish the voice of my ‘yes’ had as much enthusiasm as I feel. I sniff ‘YES’ and ‘YES’ again just be clear.
‘Now let’s try a letter board,’ says Mr Katz. ‘I understand from Professor Spalding that you can read, Jemma, but don’t worry too much about correct spellings.’
Things are moving fast. Am I ready for a letter board?
I watch as a screen with three panels appears. One is the alphabet spread across four rows. The next is numbers. The third panel is an empty green block. Underneath these three is a wide white block. YES and NO was one thing, but how can I possibly control this?
‘This is very basic software that you can use to spell out words,’ Mr Katz explains. ‘The sniff controller can be linked to any communication software on a computer or tablet, so if this works, a speech therapist can help to identify the best software for you.’
Mr Katz points at the screen. ‘As with the YES and NO screen, the cursor moves between the blocks, as you see. If you want a letter, give a big sniff when you reach the letter block. The cursor will then move from row to row. Give a small sniff when it reaches the row you want. The cursor will then move along that row and you can select a letter with another small sniff. What you type will appear in the white box below. In the green box you will see predictive text, but don’t concern yourself with that for now.’
I am starting to feel panicky. This is meant to be basic? I’m not going to be able to do it. It’s too hard – I can’t take it all in. And what if I spell the words wrong?
‘Let’s try a letter,’ he suggests. ‘See if you can select the letter C.’
I try to remember how to do it. I am relieved when he reminds me.
I wait as the cursor moves between the screens. I sniff. It isn’t that different to picking yes or no.
‘Choose the row with a small sniff.’
C is in the first row. The cursor goes past before I can sniff so I wait for it to go through the rows and back to the first. This time I do it!
‘Now another small sniff when you reach C,’ says Mr Katz.
I’ve done it! C has appeared in the white box.
After a few minutes, with Mr Katz’s patient instructions, the word CAT is visible at the bottom of the screen. It is slow – but I am writing words, real words, for the first time in my life.
‘Do you want to type something yourself ?’ he asks me. ‘Maybe tell us how you feel about the sniff controller.’
I panic now. What do I say? What are the best words to express how incredible this is? Amazing? Brilliant? These feel right, but they will take ages. Good? Great? Slowly I begin to sniff out the word GREAT. I type G R, but sniff too late for the next E and get F. I’ve typed GRF. What do I do now? How do I correct a mistake?
Mr Katz sees I have stopped sniffing. ‘If you make an error, select this eraser symbol to get rid of the last letter,’ he tells me. ‘And this,’ he points, ‘is the space bar, if you need it.’
Yes, now I can do it! I erase the F and sniff the E instead. Then A, then T.
‘If you select the red speaker button – bottom right, here – then it will speak your words,’ says Mr Katz.
It takes a few sniffs to get there, but then it happens.
The voice says, ‘GREAT.’
‘You are doing so well,’ says Mr Katz. ‘I think you are great, Jemma!’
‘So do I!’ says Mum. Then I hear sniffing – and it’s not me. There is a sob. Mum is crying.
I begin to type, DONT CRY. It takes about five minutes for me to get the right letters. Mum watches. I select the speaker. Mum cries harder.
‘Sorry, Jemma,’ she says between sobs.
‘Let me fetch you a glass of water,’ says Mr Katz, handing Mum a tissue.
He leaves the room and only now do I wonder what happens next. When can I have one? It might take a while to order it, I guess. Will it have to come from Israel? I need to type something now while I have the chance.
I am about to sniff towards the D when Mr Katz comes back in with a glass of water and gives it to Mum.
‘You have worked very hard and must be tired,’ he tells me. ‘It is best not to do too much the first time.’ He presses something on the computer and the screen disappears. He pulls the tiny sensor tubes from my nostrils.
‘No!’ I want to scream. I find myself sniffing as if to select NO through my nose, but of course I am disconnected now.
‘I know you have waited a long time for this moment, Jemma,’ says Mr Katz.
‘All her life,’ says Mum.
‘And I am sure you are impatient to have the system at home.’
Yes, I am! He’s switched it off now, but maybe he’ll let me take it home with me.
‘I’ll have to ask you – how much does it cost?’ Mum says.
I freeze. What if it is too expensive? What if I can’t have it at all?
Mr Katz smiles. ‘You will be surprised,’ he tells Mum. ‘This is unusually cheap to make. As you can see it’s low tech, it’s really just a plastic tube. It doesn’t rely on advanced technology of the kind used for eye-gaze sensors or vocal cord hummers, although it can be connected to many devices running all kinds of software.’
So it’s not too expensive! When can I have it?
‘However, it is still, as I say, in the research phase and has not gone into production yet,’ Mr Katz continues. ‘This equipment is only a prototype.’
My heart sinks. How long will I have to wait? Can’t I just have this one?
‘So how soon would Jemma be able to have one at home?’ Mum’s asking exactly what I want to ask. I can see the disappointment in her face too.
Mr Katz’s feet shuffle as he wrinkles his brow. ‘I have seen, Jemma, that you can use the equipment successfully. I will speak to my team and find out if I can leave this one with you. If so, I would require you to report on your use of it as a participant in our research project. We’re leaving the UK in two weeks’ time, but someone in the team can bring it over to you and set it up before we go.’
The significance of this slowly sinks in. I had an opportunity to say something here and now and I’ve missed it. I’ve got so much that’s so important to say. Instead of typing CAT I should have just typed DAN KILLED RYAN.
43
Mum and I have lunch in the hospital cafeteria. She leaves me by a table where I can see her and goes to get the food. I watch her pull out her purse to pay and she has a puzzled expression. She searches her bag.
‘I must be going mad,’ she tells me, plonking down a tray. ‘I’m sure I had twenty pounds in my purse. Lucky they take card.’
I think about Olivia. Has she been taking money again?
Mum sits down next to me. ‘That sniff controller’s brilliant, isn’t it?’ she says as she spoons soup into my mouth. I am conscious of people watching, but I don’t care. I wish I could tell them – all of them. I can communicate now. I can talk!
Mum phones Dad and tells him all about it. She sounds so excited. Then she listens while Dad speaks. I wish I could hear what he’s saying.
He greets me warmly when we get home. ‘Such wonderful news, Jemma. You’ll be bossing us about and telling us what’s what soon!’
I wish!
‘All OK here?’ Mum asks, as sh
e pushes me into the kitchen. Dad follows.
‘Yes. Dan phoned,’ Dad tells her.
‘Oh?’ says Mum.
Dan – what did he want?
‘Yes, he just wanted to know if we’d had any news about Sarah,’ says Dad. ‘He’s very worried – as we all are.’
‘It must be hard for him all alone,’ says Mum. ‘At least we have each other for support.’
I cringe inside as she says this. The only thing he’s very worried about is getting caught.
‘Yes, I think he sees himself as a family guy. He said he was keen to settle down with Sarah, start a family with her,’ says Dad. ‘He asked how the kids are doing and I told him the good news about Jemma. He sends his congratulations. He was very interested in how it works. He said to tell you, Jemma, that he’d love to come and have a chat with you some time.’
‘It’s nice to have something positive happening,’ says Mum, sighing.
Panic surges through me as I take in what Dad said. He has told Dan that I can communicate! Dan is never going to let me tell his secret. No wonder he’s very interested. His message to me was a threat, I know it. I feel like I was at the top of a hill, happily looking at the wonderful view, but someone has left the brake off my wheelchair and now I’m rolling down, down, faster and faster, heading straight towards a busy road.
It doesn’t sound like Dad told him I might have to wait two weeks. Dan won’t take the risk – he won’t wait. He’ll have to kill me now, won’t he?
I’m scared. I will someone to stay with me at all times, but later I find myself alone in the lounge watching TV. Finn and Olivia are upstairs. Mum is clearing up from dinner. I’m not sure where Dad is.
I don’t feel safe on my own. I can’t stop thinking about Dan. I am alert to every little sound – though it is not as if I can do anything. I thought this sniff controller was going to change my life. I thought I had a future ahead of me, that I was going to have the chance to get to know my sister. I was stupid. The sniff controller is amazing, but Dan can’t let me use it, can he?
If only I’d told Mum about Dan while I was trying it. Then someone could have done something and I wouldn’t be so frightened now. I missed my chance. I know he’s going to come. I can feel it.
I try to watch the quiz show on TV. I force myself to concentrate, but I don’t know any of the answers. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes pass. Maybe he won’t come yet. Maybe he’ll wait until I’m in bed.
Then I hear a car pull up somewhere outside, a car door slam. Is that him? Could it be? I wait, look at the TV. He’ll have Sarah’s key – he could slip in, so quietly. A minute or two passes. There is a sound behind me. The living-room door clicks shut. That door should be open. I hear another sound. Someone took a breath. I can’t see towards the door, only the TV, but I know. Someone is here, in this room, standing behind my wheelchair.
My heart beats faster. I find myself sniffing – picturing the letter board and spelling HELP as if a miraculous imaginary sniff controller might respond by blurting out, ‘HELP! HELP!’
Nothing’s happening, but I can definitely hear breathing – very close behind me. What is he waiting for? Come round in front of me – let me see you.
He’s moving – as if he’s heard me. I want Mum! I want Mum! I am as helpless as a baby.
A knife glints in my face.
44
The knife – a small, sharp blade – is so close to my face it is blocking my view of anything else. I’ve not seen a knife like this except on telly. I think you’d call it a flick knife.
As my eyes focus, I see that the shape of the person behind it is small. The knife is held in a small purple-gloved hand. These can’t be Dan’s hands or gloves. The knife moves back a little. It isn’t Dan.
‘I know you saw,’ Olivia says quietly. ‘I know you saw and I know you’ll tell on me.’
Olivia. Where did she get the knife? Why is she waving it at me?
‘I know you saw,’ she says again.
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
The knife is in front of my eyes. It wavers in her shaking hands. I wish she’d drop it. It’s so close. It’s almost scratching my cheek. I can’t control my head movements. If my head jolts the wrong way that knife will slice me.
My head jerks suddenly, as if it’s heard my thoughts. I tipped away from the knife and not towards it, but I know that was pure luck.
‘I’ve got to make sure you can’t go telling tales.’ There is venom in her voice though she speaks barely above a whisper. The knife is steadier. ‘If you tell anyone I stole Lorraine’s money they’ll chuck me out of here.’
She’s breathing hard. I’m in shock. It’s about the money she took from Mum’s purse. She didn’t think I’d ever be able to tell anyone. But now she knows I will.
‘I like you, Jemma,’ Olivia continues, ‘even though you don’t do anything.’ She screws up her face. ‘But I can’t let you tell. I’ll do it quick, OK? No one will think it was me.’
She pulls the knife slowly back, ready. Surely she can’t? But I can see the determination in her pressed-together lips. She means it. She’s going to do it. Mum! Mum! I need you!
‘OLIVIA!’
Suddenly Dad is there. ‘What the –? For God’s sake, Olivia. Where did you get that knife?’
Olivia jumps and the knife jolts wildly in front of my face. I think I feel it scrape my cheek.
‘Give it to me,’ says Dad.
Olivia is shaking, harder and harder, but she doesn’t let go of the knife.
‘Olivia. Give it to me now,’ Dad says again. His voice is low, calm and serious.
Olivia drops the knife. Dad quickly grabs it and shuts it. Olivia is sobbing now, wailing. She curls up on the floor and rocks like Finn.
Saliva gathers in my mouth. I can’t swallow. Would she have done it? Could she really have stabbed me? I don’t know – it’s hard to believe she would.
Dad’s face is white with shock. He stands, paralysed for a moment, staring down at Olivia on the floor.
‘Lorraine!’ he yells loudly. ‘Can you come in here?’
Mum runs in. ‘What’s happened?’ Her voice is high, panicky.
‘I found Olivia holding . . . holding this knife out – as if she was about to stab Jemma.’
Dad flicks the knife open and shut again for Mum to see.
‘WHAT?’ Mum exclaims. She comes round in front of me, looks at me anxiously and then at Olivia.
‘Olivia! Calm down. What on earth were you thinking?’
Olivia is still sobbing loudly and doesn’t look like she’s about to calm down.
‘We need that sniff controller,’ says Mum. ‘We need Jemma to be able to tell us what’s going on.’
And she has no idea how much I need to say!
Mum sits on the floor and puts a hand on Olivia’s shoulder. Olivia pushes her away. Dad is holding the knife, staring at it with a bewildered expression.
‘That’s not ours, is it?’ Mum asks him.
‘No,’ Dad says firmly.
‘Just tell us one thing, Olivia,’ says Mum. ‘Where did you get this knife?’
Olivia sobs for what feels like minutes before she finally says, ‘I . . . f-found . . . it. I f-found it in the g-g-garden.’
‘In our garden?’ Dad says. ‘Where exactly?’
‘My ball . . . my ball went into the bushes right at the back – and . . . and . . . something was sticking up in the mud behind the shed and I p-pulled it.’
‘When was this? Why didn’t you tell us?’ Dad asks.
‘Weeks ago. I . . . I wanted to keep it,’ says Olivia. ‘Just in case.’
‘In case of what?’ Dad demands.
Olivia shrugs, but says nothing.
‘Why Jemma ?’ Mum steadies her voice. ‘Why were you pointing it at her ?’
Olivia’s shoulders are shaking. She begins to sob again.
‘Come upstairs with me,’ Mum says firmly. I wonder if Olivia will tell her the truth.
As Mum goes out I hear Sheralyn coming down. ‘Is everything OK?’ she asks. ‘I heard shouting . . .’
Dad goes out into the hall and I can hear him telling her what’s happened.
‘That is one messed-up kid!’ says Sheralyn.
‘I know,’ says Dad. ‘I don’t think we realised how bad it was. I’m not sure what’ll happen now.’
I wonder what he means, what will happen to Olivia.
It’s only when I am lying in bed later, unable to sleep, that I think about the knife. How did a knife end up buried in our garden?
Am I crazy, or could it possibly have been the knife Dan used to kill Ryan? Dan goes into the garden to smoke sometimes. Olivia might just have found the most important piece of evidence and she has no idea.
Olivia is staying in her room and Mum has taken some breakfast up to her. She says Olivia won’t get out of bed and won’t talk.
Finn is eating his square malties slowly and deliberately. He seems to be checking carefully that each one has four sides before it reaches his mouth.
Dad doesn’t go to work.
‘I’m going to call Mr Katz and find out when the sniff controller is coming,’ he tells me as he feeds me breakfast.
It’s hard to swallow. I feel stuffed so full of things I need to say there is no room for food.
I’d like to hear the call, but once I’ve finished eating and been wiped up, Dad goes into the living room with the phone.
He comes back looking pleased. ‘Thank goodness – they say it’s coming tomorrow,’ he tells me. ‘Someone called Mr Fogel is bringing it.’
Tomorrow.
When Mum comes down, Dad tells her about Mr Fogel. And he says that Olivia’s social worker will be over in half an hour.
Mum decides I should go to school, that it is best to keep things normal. I think they want me out of the way while they deal with Olivia.
When I get home, Olivia has gone. Mum explains that her social worker has found her somewhere else to stay for a while.
‘I don’t know if we’ll be able to have her back here. She won’t say what happened,’ Mum says, shaking her head and sighing, despairingly. ‘I still can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, Jemma – it must have been terrifying.’
I Have No Secrets Page 14
