‘Nan?’ I called softly into the darkened room as I opened the door. ‘Nan, dinner’s ready.’
I peeped into the room, which was dark except for the low-wattage light coming from the bedside lamp. Nan lay on her side on top of the duvet and facing the door. Her eyes were closed. She was fast asleep. I tiptoed into the room, careful not to make any sudden noises and frighten the life out of her. Up close, she looked so peaceful. She actually had a slight smile on her face. She was obviously having a good dream!
‘Nan?’ I placed my hand on her upper arm and nudged her gently. ‘Dinner’s ready. And I made an extra special salad to go with it!’ I could just see Nan’s face when she found out exactly what my special ingredient was.
‘Nan!’ I nudged her a bit harder. Her arm, which was resting on her side, slipped backwards off her body and her hand flopped into the duvet, palm up. I stared at her.
‘Nan?’ I shook her a bit harder. Her whole body tipped over so that she was lying on her back, her eyes still closed. A feeling raced through me – as if every drop of blood in my body had turned to Arctic water. I stepped back, unable to take my eyes off my nan, not even able to blink. Do something. I had to do something.
‘MUM! DAD!’ A scream ripped from me. And once I’d started I couldn’t stop.
Dad came bounding up the stairs, closely followed by Mum.
‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Dad asked anxiously.
I pointed at Nan. Mum took one look at her before rushing over. Dad ushered me out of the room. My feet barely touched the carpet in my haste to get out of there. Because I was frightened. More frightened than I’d ever been before in my life. Even more frightened than I was before my heart transplant operation. As soon as I was on the landing, Dad went back into the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind him. I put my hands against the closed door, praying desperately that I was wrong. That Nan was just asleep.
Please let her be all right. Please. Please . . .
My hands fell to my sides as I waited for something, anything to happen. What was going on in there? What were Mum and Dad doing? I turned and walked towards my room, but I didn’t make it. Halfway there, I leaned against the wall, before sliding down it. My face was soaking wet with silent tears, and all at once I couldn’t keep silent any more. I howled like some kind of wounded animal and curled up in a ball on the floor, where I cried and cried and cried.
I didn’t even know Dad had left Nan’s room until he sat on the carpet next to me and held me tight.
‘I-Is Nan O-OK?’ I gulped out. But I already knew the answer.
‘Cameron, she’s dead,’ Dad said as gently as he could. ‘But she died peacefully, in her sleep.’
I cried and cried some more, while Dad rocked me without a word.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
See You Soon
Hello, Alex,
Yes, it’s me! It’s the New Year and I’m still standing – well, sitting, at any rate. I know it’s gone but – Merry Christmas! And a very happy New Year! And it will be a happy New Year. D’you know why? Because the New Year will bring you. It’s been a while since I’ve had the camcorder on to talk to you. A lot has happened. First and worst – Nan died a few weeks ago. I’m sorry to say it bluntly like that, but there is no other way to say it really, is there? Nan died in her sleep. Even now, I wonder if she knew something was going to happen. I keep replaying in my head all the things she said just before she died. I can’t get over the feeling that it was as if she was saying goodbye. Is that silly? It probably is, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about it since. I shall miss her – desperately. I’ve never had anyone close to me die before. For a long while, I thought I’d never get over it. That doesn’t mean I’m over it now, ’cos I’m not. Even now, it sort of makes me choke up. Nan was so full of life. I guess I’d convinced myself that everyone close to me was going to live for ever. Mum and Dad try to tell me that Nan had a good innings and it was just her time, but that doesn’t really help. I didn’t expect it to hurt inside quite so much. But it is getting better. I never thought that would happen either.
It’s funny the way things work out, isn’t it? My first transplant didn’t take, so I had to decide whether or not I was going to have another one – a second transplant. Another pig’s heart. To be honest, I wasn’t going to, but a couple of days after Nan’s death I decided that I would. I must be a glutton for punishment. The papers had a field day. Poor Dr Bryce has been called a butcher and there have been calls for him to be struck off and struck down and struck out and all sorts. I’m not supposed to know that, but one of the nurses told me.
You see, his second pig-heart patient died.
I didn’t know her. I don’t even know her name. All I know is that she was an artist and she was married with a son. I wonder how they’re feeling now. No, I don’t mean that. I know how they’re feeling now, but I wonder if they still feel it was worth it. I guess they do. When you get right down to it, it’s simple really. A chance of life against no chance at all. And although I didn’t know her, I must admit that when I heard, it did upset me. I wonder what Trudy and the second pig – I think his name was Paul – would’ve made of all this. Wherever they are, they’re probably laughing themselves stupid. But then again, maybe they’re not. Spite and vindictiveness like that is more of a human thing than a pig thing – unless pigs really do think like the ones in Orwell’s Animal Farm. I think I prefer the pigs that Dick King-Smith writes about, to be honest.
So why did I change my mind about the transplant? It had a lot to do with what Nan said to me on that last day, but I think it was mostly her dying. That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? What I mean is, Nan’s death made me realize that I was giving up too easily. I still have too many things to do and too many places to see and too many people to meet before I let go. I decided to have the operation for Mum and Dad and Nan, but mostly for myself.
But I’m not doing so well, this time around. It’s taking me a long time to get my strength back. And I still get tired very easily. They only let me record this message because I promised to keep it short. I’m hoping to be around when you’re born. I reckon that’s do-able. If I’m not around, it won’t be for want of trying. But whatever happens, Alex, just remember that I love you; I did from the time I knew about you.
You might hear things about me, things about this second operation and what happened before it and why I did it and such like – things that might upset you. So I’m going to tell you exactly what happened.
The papers are saying I tried to commit suicide by drowning myself in my local swimming pool. That’s absolute rubbish. I didn’t try to commit suicide. I wanted to touch the bottom of the pool and then I couldn’t get back up to the surface, it’s as simple as that. Some of the papers are trying to make out that I became so disgusted with the idea of having a pig’s heart in my body that I wanted to bow out. But journalists will write any load of twaddle to try and sell their newspapers. So if someone tries to tell you that that’s what happened, you tell them to go and play with the traffic or something.
Mum and Dad are outside waiting for me to finish. They’re doing a lot better now. They’re a lot calmer. And they’re always kissing and cuddling. I think you did that, but I like to think that I had something to do with it as well. Perhaps, by watching me, they remembered how important, how precious every moment of every day is. D’you think I’m just full of myself? I probably am – but why not?! If I don’t like me, then who else will?
I fancied Julie, but she went off me after my operation. She said I wasn’t the same because my heart had changed. That upset me for a while. I think that played a big part in that pool business. I wanted to show her and Mum and Dad and mostly myself that I could do it. That not only was I the same, but I was better – not worse.
There’s a lot of nonsense about me and Mum and Dad floating about at the moment. But if you want to know the truth, you ask one of us. Promise you’ll do that. I can’t wait to see you. I wish
you were going to be born tomorrow. But then again, maybe I don’t. You’re the next challenge I’ve set myself. I know that doesn’t make much sense to you – and it doesn’t have to. Just know that I’m determined to hold you as soon as you’re born. That’s my new challenge and I like this one! It’s a lot less strenuous than touching the bottom of my local swimming pool but a lot more work and much more uncertain. Still, it wouldn’t be much of a challenge if it was easy, would it? When you’re born in April, I’m going to hold you tight and say, ‘Welcome to the world, Alex. I’m your big brother
Cameron Joshua Kelsey. And I hope one day you’ll be as proud of me as I am of you.’
I’ll see you soon, Alex.
This is Cameron Joshua Kelsey – signing off.
About the Author
Malorie Blackman is one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. She has won numerous awards for her books, including the Red House Children’s Book Award and the Fantastic Fiction Award, and has been shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal. Noughts & Crosses has been adapted for the stage by the Royal Shakespeare Company, and is soon to be a graphic novel.
In 2005 Malorie was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her contribution to the world of children’s books, and in 2008 she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature. She has been described by The Times as ‘a national treasure’. Malorie Blackman is the Children’s Laureate 2013–2015.
Also by Malorie Blackman
The Noughts & Crosses sequence
Noughts & Crosses
Knife Edge
Checkmate
Double Cross
A. N. T. I. D.O. T. E.
Dangerous Reality
Dead Gorgeous
Hacker
Pig-Heart Boy
The Deadly Dare Mysteries
The Stuff of Nightmares
Thief!
Boys Don’t Cry
Unheard Voices
(An anthology of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)
For junior readers, published by Corgi Yearling Books:
Cloud Busting
Operation Gadgetman!
Whizziwig and Whizziwig Returns
For beginner readers, published by Corgi Pups/ Young Corgi Books:
Jack Sweettooth
Snow Dog
Space Race
The Monster Crisp-Guzzler
Audio editions available on CDs:
Noughts & Crosses
Knife Edge
Checkmate
Double Cross
Praise for Malorie Blackman:
Noughts & Crosses
‘A book which will linger in the mind long after it has been read’
Observer
Knife Edge
‘A powerful story of race and prejudice’ Sunday Times
Checkmate
‘Another emotional hard-hitter . . .
bluntly told and ingeniously constructed’ Sunday Times
Double Cross
‘Blackman “gets” people . . . she “gets” humanity as a whole, too.
Most of all, she writes a stonking good story’ Guardian
Pig-Heart Boy
‘A powerful story about friendship, loyalty and family’ Guardian
Hacker
‘Refreshingly new . . . Malorie Blackman writes with such winsome vitality’ Telegraph
A. N. T. I. D. O. T. E.
‘Strong characterisation and pacy dialogue make this a real winner’
Independent
Thief!
‘. . . impossible to put down’ Sunday Telegraph
Dangerous Reality
‘A whodunnit, a cyber-thriller and a family drama: readers of nine or over won’t be able to resist the suspense’ Sunday Times
www.malorieblackman.co.uk
PIG-HEART BOY
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 9781446453551
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2013
Copyright © Oneta Malorie Blackman, 1997
First published in Great Britain by Doubleday, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books
Doubleday 978 0 552 55166 3 1997
The right of Malorie Blackman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Corgi Books are published by Random House Children’s Books,
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Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:
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THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Malorie Blackman, Pig-Heart Boy
(Series: # )
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