by David Gilman
“I think you’re right,” he said.
A doctor and nurse were muttering near the door. Mum came over and brushed her hand across my face. “You gave us all a bit of a fright,” she said quietly.
Me? I don’t think Mum knows what fright is. Try being chased by ugly men with bad haircuts, try talking to hairy monsters in the night, try saving…
“Where’s Malcolm?”
“He’s safe,” Mum said.
The door opened and the nurse brought in the gang. Mark and Pete-the-Feet, Skimp and Rocky and Tracy. That was nice. I was pleased they’d let her stay in the gang. I bet it took an Emergency Meeting of the Executive Council. And someone must have voted on my behalf.
That’s called voting by proxy.
The nice thing was, they were all wearing beanies. Then they took them off. Incredible! They’d all had their heads shaved. They were bald just like me.
“We had a meeting…” Mark said.
I knew I was right.
“And we’ve decided to call ourselves the Beanie Gang.”
“That’s brilliant. Even Tracy,” I said.
She still spoke funny but we could all understand her. “Deaf and bald,” she said, “tha’ should give the bullies something to laugh about!”
Mark sat on the edge of the bed. “I have to do all the chores, so hurry up and get better, yeah?”
“I’m doing my best,” I told him.
“Well, don’t hang about. Mum and Dad have got a present for you. Just don’t tell them you already know. Act surprised.”
“What? A new bike?”
“Don’t be stupid, that’s your Christmas present. Oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“All right, you lot, that’s enough. We don’t want to tire the patient, do we?” the nurse said.
Mark and the others all signed. I laughed. They’d just said something really rude.
“Tracy’s teaching us. It’s our new secret code,” Rocky said.
How cool is that?
Everyone was smiling. They must have been happy.
As the nurse pushed the gang out the door, Dad brought in a lady who looked quite old, like Mum, and who had the same sort of kind face. She was carrying Malcolm. And he still wore the football shirt. I think it’d been washed and ironed though.
“Malcolm!”
She put him down on the bed.
“Jez, this is Mrs Carter. She’s Malcolm’s owner,” Mum said.
I barely heard what she was saying. Malcolm was sitting on my chest. I could barely breathe I was so happy. He was making those whoo whoo sounds, and touching my face.
“I run an animal sanctuary. This little chimp fell sick and those two awful men stole him from the infirmary. Malcolm, as we now call him, escaped from their van and must have hid in the Black Gate,” said Mrs Carter.
“Which is where I found him.”
“Thank heavens you did. Malcolm was taught to sign because he’s part of a research programme in animal communication. He’s actually a very clever chimpanzee.”
“No one will ever hurt him for experiments?”
“Never ever. I promise. He’s one of the lucky ones. And you can visit him whenever you want.”
Malcolm was pinching my grapes. He pushed one into my mouth.
His hands moved. Does it hurt? he asked me.
No. Not any more.
The End
Author’s note
This story was always going to be about a young boy’s view of his world, with a glance in the direction of his parents who patiently bore their distress for their sick son. Beanie saw their concern as something that went beyond his own illness as he carried on with his day-to-day life. It was his character’s quirky look at the world that always held such an appeal for me and it was never going to be a story that became maudlin or morbid. It’s often a stroke of luck when a writer finds such an endearing character as Beanie – doubly so when he gets to explore his own feelings with someone like Malcolm.
I had help during my research for this book – thanks go to Matthew Jones, for explaining the workings of the lorries used in the story. Thanks also to both the senior paediatrician at Derriford Hospital in Plymouth, Devon, as well as the Derriford Children’s Cancer Trust, who advised on the symptoms and treatment for young people who fall ill with leukaemia.
The survival rate for so many young people with leukaemia has increased and cancer research has become the main weapon in the on-going battle against this illness.
Cancer charities, such as Cancer Research UK and, in particular, the CLIC Sargent for Children with Cancer always need support. Many years ago when my family were struggling financially and my sister fell ill, Sargent made sure she had a couple of pounds a week to spend on a few personal items. It made such a difference to her. When Cancer and Leukaemia in Childhood merged with Sargent in 2005, their ability to help children and teenagers became even stronger.
Like Malcolm, we all need rescuing at times and, as Beanie reached out for his new-found friend, I don’t think it’s beyond any of us to do something similar.
David Gilman
A TEMPLAR BOOK
First published in the UK in 2014 by Templar Publishing,
an imprint of The Templar Company Limited,
Deepdene Lodge, Deepdene Avenue, Dorking, Surrey, RH5 4AT, UK
www.templarco.co.uk
This ebook edition first published in 2014 by Templar Publishing
All rights reserved
Text copyright © 2014 David Gilman
Cover illustration by Sarah Horne
Cover design by Will Steele
The right of David Gilman to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN (ePub) 978-1-78370-034-9
