Ways to Live Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

writing a book.”
    “A book!” Dad raised his eyebrows. “I tried to write a book when I was your age. Captain Cassidy and the Castle of Doom it was called.”
    “What happened?” I said. Dad laughed.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “I never got beyond chapter one.”
    “My book’s about me,” I said.
    Dad stopped laughing. “About you?”
    “About . . . being ill. And everything.”
    “Ah.” Dad was quiet. I waited for him to say something else but he didn’t. I bent my head over the magazine. The silence stretched and stretched and then, suddenly, I heard his chair scrape. I looked up quickly, but he’d gone.
    I thought that was it, but I was wrong. Today, when he came home from work, he had a present for me. It was a ring binder with Spiderman on it, a new tube of Pritt Stick and some sugar paper.
    “For your book,” he said.
    “Thanks,” I said. “That’s . . . thanks.”
    “That’s all right,” he said. He sat down in his chair and opened his paper. Then he lowered it again. “Just one thing,” he said. “You’re not writing a weepy book full of poems and pictures of rainbows, are you?”
    “No,” I said. I wasn’t sure what kind of book he was talking about, but it didn’t sound like mine. “It’s not that sort of book,” I said.
    “That’s all right, then,” said Dad, opening his paper again.

 
     
DR BILL
 
     
     
     
     
    When my leukaemia came back for the third time, we had to go and talk about it with Dr Bill. He’s a paediatric oncologist, which is a cancer doctor for kids. He wears this red headscarf with white dots, like a pirate. He does it so’s the kids with no hair don’t feel so bad. His real name is Dr William Bottomley, but no one ever calls him that.
    “How can I work with you lot with a name like Dr Bottomley?” he says, and everyone laughs. So he’s Dr Bill.
    Dad wanted me to have more treatment, but Dr Bill said he didn’t think it would work because I wasn’t strong enough after the last lot. He said it was too dangerous.
    “Can’t we try it anyway?” said Dad and Dr Bill pursed up his lips.
    “We could,” he said. “But it would mean spending a lot of time in hospital again. And as it hasn’t been successful this time. . .”
    I knew what he meant. I’d have to have all those chemicals and get sick again but this time they already knew it wouldn’t work.
    “I don’t want to,” I said. “It’s poison.”
    “It’s poison that works,” said Dad.
    But Dr Bill shook his head.
    “Not this time.”
    So what I get now are different drugs. It’s still chemotherapy, but it’s not the sort that makes you get sick or your hair fall out. It doesn’t try and cure you, it just stops you getting worse. Although I still get tired a lot and have nosebleeds and stuff like that.
    They could work for a long time, these new drugs, Dr Bill says. People can live for a whole year or more. I’ve had four months already.
    A year’s a long time.
    Anything can happen in a year.

 
     
ESCALATORS
22nd January
     
     
     
     
    Going up down-escalators or down up-escalators is a stupid last wish.
    I’ve wanted to do it for ages, though. Ever since I read this book where this dog did. I think it was a magic dog. I can’t remember. It wasn’t like he didn’t know which escalator was which; he just did it to be daring. Because it was cool. So then I wanted to too. Does that make sense?
    It sounds like an easy wish to do, but actually it isn’t. I’m not allowed into town by myself. And how would I explain it to Mum? “Oh, is this the down-escalator? I thought it was the up. I wondered why it was taking so long to get to the top.”
    She’d think I was crazy.
    Maybe I am. But I still want to do it.
    I’ve been into town with Mum a couple of times since I wrote my list and each time I’ve thought I’ll do it and then chickened out. I had half an idea of getting Mickey to take me and Felix next time he’s home. But today Mum took me to the dentist 5