Extracts

Water to Wine

Mum came downstairs this morning looking anxious and uncertain. I asked her if she was alright, which was a silly question because I could see she wasn’t, but she said she’d be okay. She wandered into the kitchen as if she was half asleep, keeping her balance with one hand against the wall. I thought she might just be tired and would feel better after a cup of coffee.
That was when I heard a crash.
“Mum?”
I found her on the floor, eyes closed, still as death. I held my breath.
“Mum?”
She blinked.
I breathed out.

Calming The Storm

It was a scene I’ll never forget. Mum was lying on the bed, not in it, curled up like a foetus. Nan was sitting on one side with Baz on her lap. Dad was sitting on the other side looking bewildered. Dad and nan have never got on. I think nan wanted mum to marry some rich powerful man, and dad’s neither rich nor powerful. He can also be a bit bolshy sometimes, but he loves mum, at least I think so. You never know, not for sure. I think men are more complicated than us. They don’t feel the same things in the same way. But I hope dad loves mum.
Nan and dad had been exchanging words, I could see that. They both seemed relieved when I walked in. I thought dad might get up and kiss me but he just sat there, not really knowing what to do or say. Mum was facing me on the bed and she smiled when she saw me. For a moment I couldn’t smile back. I was shocked. I was puzzled.

Feeding The Hungry

Grandad Aubrey looked serious, or as serious as he could look. Most of the time, the only thing he thought about was money. He ran his shop and the shop ran him. He never talked of anything else except how much things cost and how much more expensive things were now than then, whenever then was. It didn’t matter where we were, the conversation would always lead back to how much things cost and how he couldn’t survive in business much longer, even though he’d survived fifty years or more. I could see he was struggling, sitting next to mum, his daughter, with things he hadn’t ever had to deal with, and probably hoped he never would. He didn’t say anything when he saw us, just tried to look worried, and I suppose he was worried – his face just didn’t know how to show it and his brain, full of cash registers and account sheets, didn’t know what to do with this horrible new state.

Ten Plagues

One of the subjects we do at school is religion. It isn’t like you might think, holier than thou stuff, it’s just a look at world religions, a kind of history, and I’ve always liked history so I’m doing it as one of my GCSEs. Mum and dad aren’t religious, they don’t go to church and I don’t know what I am, just interested I suppose. One of the stories we’re studying is the ten plagues which comes from the Old Testament. The plagues are what God used to set the Israelites free from captivity in Egypt a couple of thousand years ago. They were horrible things, like locusts and making rivers of blood and hailstones and even killing the first born children. Nasty things. I thought when I heard about them that they were too nasty for a half decent God to use, but when I look around the hospital I can see it happening, now, in a different way, but just as bad. I’m not saying God did this, I don’t think he did, it’s just what happens.

The School Play

After each performance we got a standing ovation. I knew people would clap, because that’s what they’re supposed to do, but they clapped hard and stood up and wouldn’t let us go. I think they knew how much work we’d put into it, but that wouldn’t have been enough without a decent performance and I knew we were at least half decent. A couple of people in the audience shouted “Bravo! Bravo!” which was funny, but I think they were teachers.
That last night, I saw mum when I was bowing and I’ll never forget her face. She was so proud. She was wearing a head scarf because her hair had started to fall out. The chemo does that. It wasn’t bad, but she felt embarrassed by it and wanted to cover it up. She never used make-up and she didn’t now, even though her skin was very pale, but she looked beautiful sitting in her wheelchair with her shiny eyes. I was so glad she made it.

Reviews

The story is beyond lovely, the characters in the book are so real and true to life. I have thought that also about the characters in ‘The Last Garden’ from what I have heard of Mum reading out loud. I love the way ‘Miracle Girl’ grips you, making it very difficult to put down, but not in the ordinary way, what I’m trying to say is it doesn’t seem like a thriller or a book you have to find out what the end is so you can detach yourself from it, although i guess it is like that in a way because you are holding your breath all the way through wondering if what appears the evident, her mothers death, will or will not happen. Don’t tell me because I haven’t found out yet! Comparing it to other books yours has such an original voice. So interesting and unaffected, so thoughtful and moral.

R.W-B [Devon, UK]

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