Back to Blackbrick (27 page)

I'D REALLY LIKE it if, after all this, I was able to tell you that when someone dies, you get over it, but I can't say that, and I don't think I'll ever be able to say it. I might still be a kid and everything, but I've grown up a good bit recently. I've stopped begging the world to give me back the things that I have lost. They are gone. I've got to get used to it. But even though they've gone, they've left a mark, and their marks comfort me quite a lot. It's obviously not as good as them actually being here.

I miss Brian and Granddad Kevin an awful lot. There are times when it seems as if there's this massive black brick, cold and heavy, wedged inside my body, impossible to remove. Maybe that's not exactly how other people feel it. But everyone knows what it's like to miss someone. I don't have to explain that. That's what being human is. We're supposed to miss people.

And I've been working pretty hard to try to stop wishing for things that I can't have. I've more or less completely stopped hoping that people will come back to life again when everyone knows they are dead. Hoping for something
like that is a huge waste of time. But I do think it's probably okay, once in a while, to have moments when your whole body still aches for someone. Even when you know that they're not coming back.

The ghosts in your life don't ever really go away. Every so often they will whisper to you and they will brush past you, and maybe you will even feel their misty sweet breath on your skin. It's fine. Don't worry about it too much. It doesn't mean they're taking over your whole entire life. Take me, for example. Most of the time I feel more or less grand. But sometimes I can hear things, like Maggie's voice, as clear as it ever was. And there are still times when I would really like, just once more, to feel my fingers touching her face.

Affectionate and heartfelt thanks to Ben Moore for his expert advice, his faith in Cosmo, and for knowing what to do with the key; to David and Paul Moore for always being so interested; and to Elizabeth Moore for more than I can ever say. Also massive thanks to Melanie Sheridan, Sarah MacCurtain, Aelish Nagle, Maura Murphy, Terry Barrett, Fionnuala Price, Fiona Geoghegan, James Martyn, Bob Whelan, Adele Whelan, Eoin Devereux, Liz Devereux, and the entire O'Dea clan. Thanks to my godchildren Stella Byng, Myles Egan, Ashlee DaCosta, and Ella Nethercott, and their siblings, Declan, Mika, Sophie, and Alannah. Also thanks to Ann Fitzgerald, John Consodine, Hugh Fitzgerald, and to Abby and Moya. I am lucky and grateful to have a literary agent like Jo Unwin and editors like Fiona Kennedy and Ruta Rimas—working with them has been a pure pleasure. Thanks to everyone at Conville and Walsh, at Orion Children's books, and at Annaghmakerrig. Love and gratitude to my fabulous Eoghan, my wonderful Stephanie, and my magical Gabriela. Finally, thank you, Ger Fitzgerald, for making all my best dreams come true, including this one.

My father was a delightful man. Throughout my entire childhood I never remember him raising his voice, except in jest, and he was rarely ever cross. Despite being busy and hardworking, he spent lots of time with me, something that I took for granted. There were, I am sure, plenty of times when most people would have found me exasperating, but my dad always made me feel as if I was lovely and clever and beautiful.

He encouraged me to listen, to read, to think, to travel, to write, and mainly just to revel in the amazing gift that it is to be alive. He was funny and whimsical, very creative and literary, but also very modest—full of a kind of calm, humorous zest. I've never met anyone else like him.

He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's some years ago, a disease that slowly but relentlessly takes someone's memory and identity away. It's hard to describe the bleakness that I felt when I realized that gradually he was forgetting us all. Losing someone to Alzheimer's is a very common experience, but one that remains poorly understood and difficult to talk about.

Memory loss is an important part of the story in
Back to
Blackbrick
. For me, the magic of writing is that even if you start out being dominated by your own experiences and feelings, you end up being able to occupy other people's heads and hearts, and through this, to discover more about the world than might otherwise have been possible. Cosmo, his granddad, and the other people in
Back to Blackbrick
are completely fictional characters with minds and personalities of their own, but together they have helped me to remember that no one who has loved you ever really goes away, and that adventure and discovery wait for us in unexpected places, perhaps especially during sad or difficult times in life.

Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

Limerick, Ireland

March 2012

MARGARET K. M
c
ELDERRY BOOKS

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2013 by Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

Previously published in 2013 in Great Britain by Orion Children's Books

First U.S. edition 2013

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

M
ARGARET
K. M
C
E
LDERRY
B
OOKS
is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.

Book design by Debra Sfetsios-Conover

Jacket design by Debra Sfetsios-Conover

Jacket illustrations copyright © 2013 by James Tierney

The text for this book is set in ITC Caslon STD.

CIP data is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-4424-8155-8 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-4424-8157-2 (eBook)