Becky Bananas (16 page)

We went up to her bedroom and looked at ourselves in the mirror and giggled because Zoë said, “We’re like a pair of boiled eggs!”

Usually I didn’t look like an egg because I wore my wig that Mum bought for me. It’s a special one made out of real hair the same colour as mine, so that nobody at school ever knew that really I was bald. But Zoë’s mum couldn’t afford a wig, so when I went to her place I didn’t wear mine. I took it off and left it in the car so as not to upset her.

Lots of children, when their hair has fallen out, they wear scarves, but Zoë is too proud. She just went walking round bald and didn’t care who saw her. “It’s trendy,” she said. “It’s the new fashion.” I think that is
really
brave.

I am too vain, I suppose.

At last, you went into remission.

W
e had celebrations when I came out of hospital. Uncle Eddy came and we all went for a meal, me and Mum and Uncle Eddy. We left Danny at home with Ana-Maria, who’s our au pair, because he is too young. He is just a silly nuisance in a restaurant.

Mum bought pink champagne, and we all got to drink it. Even I was allowed a glass!

Mum and Uncle Eddy toasted to me. They clinked glasses and said, “To Becky!” Then Uncle Eddy winked and said, “Here’s looking at you, kid!”

As a matter of fact, everyone in the restaurant was looking at Mum. They always do. She can’t go anywhere without being looked at. But that evening she didn’t mind. She was really happy! She hugged me and said, “Darling, I know the drugs are perfectly horrid, but you see, it has been worth it, hasn’t it? Now you can concentrate on getting strong again!”

All I wanted to do was start back on my ballet
classes. Dr Stanhope, who is my doctor that looks after me at the hospital, said that I could do one class a week but that I was to stop if I got tired. Mum was scared it would be too much for me, but Dr Stanhope talked to me about it and I told him how I was going to be a dancer when I grew up and how important it was to me to have classes, and he spoke to Mum and then it was all right.

I really like Dr Stanhope! He is another person I will have on my programme.

He is a person who understands. He told Mum that if ballet meant so much to me, then I must be allowed to do it.

Uncle Eddy agreed with him. I heard him talking to Mum when they didn’t know I was there. He said, “I know it’s difficult for you, kid.” He calls Mum kid just like he calls me, even though she’s older than he is. He said, “I know the temptation to wrap her in cotton wool, but she’s got to be allowed to live her life.”

Uncle Eddy understands as well! I don’t think Mum always does, or maybe it’s just that she worries more. Every week when I had to come back to the hospital for tests she would ring up from the studios to check if everything was all right. She said she couldn’t concentrate properly until she knew.

Ana-Maria used to bring me to the hospital. I would have rather it was Mum, but on the other hand at least Ana-Maria never got nervous, like Mum did when she came. When Mum came she gave me the jitters. I didn’t have the jitters as a rule because I was used to it. Also, I knew everybody. People used to say hello to me. The nurses and the doctors and the men with the trolleys.

And sometimes Zoë would be here and then we would have fun, giggling together.

I always giggle with Zoë. When I am a dancer and she is a nurse and I go back to visit her to talk to her patients, we will probably still giggle. She is the sort of person you can’t help giggling with.

I haven’t got anyone to giggle with now. Now that I’m back in the hospital. I just lie here and think. What I think about mostly is dancing
Swan Lake.
I dance it
in my head and imagine that I am on stage. So long as I can imagine that, I am all right.

It is just sometimes, when it stops being real and I know that I am only dreaming it, that I get frightened. Time is rushing past and I am missing all my classes. I should be having at least three a week! I haven’t had any for at least two months. How am I going to be a dancer if I can’t have classes? And my hair was growing back and now it’s all starting to fall out again and I hate these horrible drugs that make me feel sick, I feel sick, sick, sick all of the time and my mouth hurts and I’m having nosebleeds again and sometimes I think that I am going to die.

Sometimes I think that I wouldn’t mind dying if it meant no more of the horrible drugs.

But I am not going to! I am going to live to be a hundred!

I am going to be like Bryony and dance in
Swan Lake.
And then they will say
Leukaemia girl beats illness to become ballerina.
That is the sort of thing that they say. And there will be interviews on radio and television and in the magazines. People will come to the theatre, to my dressing room, to talk to me and write articles, like they do with Mum. But unlike Mum I will not be recognised all over the place in
supermarkets or when I am walking down the street as not so many people recognise ballet dancers. Lots of girls at school didn’t even recognise Darcey until I told them who she was!

That is incredible, not recognising Darcey. Everyone recognises television stars. That is because more people watch television than go to the ballet. But that is all right. I don’t specially want to be recognised. I just want to dance!

I have got to get better
quickly
or it will be too late.

I am trying to think of some jokes.

What did one magnet say to the other magnet?

“I find you attractive.”

Ha ha. That is not very funny.

Where did the Vikings drink?

At a Norse trough.

Neither is that. They are the sort of jokes you find in Christmas crackers.

I have just remembered one that someone told me yesterday.

This is the joke. There’s this boy who’s just started at a new school. The teacher asks him if he can read and write. He says, “I can write, but I can’t read.” So the teacher says, “All right. Here’s a piece of paper. Show me how you write your name.” So the boy writes something on the paper and the teacher picks it up and looks at it and it is just scribble. “What’s this?” she says. And the boy says, “How should I know? I told you, I can’t read.”

Ho ho! That is a really stupid one.

I’m not very good with jokes as I can never remember the end of them. Well, hardly ever. I only remembered this one because it’s so stupid. Zoë used to tell me lots, only hers were really funny.

I wish she was here now and then I could ask her to tell them to me again. This time I might be able to remember the endings and then I could tell them to someone else.

There is a girl in the bed opposite who would probably like to hear some jokes. This is the first time
she has been in hospital and she keeps crying for her mum. Her auntie is with her but her mum is in hospital as well. I think that is so sad. I would like to be able to cheer her up.

Maybe when Uncle Eddy comes I will ask him to go over and tell her some jokes. He is good at making people laugh. But I don’t know when he is going to be able to come. He is in Africa.

He sent me a card with lions on it.

On the back he wrote, “Here’s looking at you, kid!” He is always saying that, I don’t know why. But I like it when he says it.

I hope he comes back soon! I want him to be here! I only feel safe when Uncle Eddy is here.

He’s going to be in Africa for another whole fortnight. But I know that he is thinking of me. He told me before he went. He said, “Sweetheart, when I’m away from you never a day goes by but you’re in my thoughts.”

I am going to concentrate on being in Uncle Eddy’s thoughts. That way it will keep me safe.

Here is another joke I have thought of.

What did the dentist say in court?

I swear to tell the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth.

I suppose that is quite funny.

Sort of.

I can’t think of any more.

It is no use asking Mum. She is like me, she can never remember the ending.

The ending of a joke is called “the punch line”. It is a catastrophe if you cannot remember your punch line.

You would think that Mum would be able to, being an actress. But she has always had trouble with her lines. I have always had to help her.