Free Anthem for Jackson Dawes by Celia Bryce

place to go, just like Jackson, somewhere which wasn’t her room, wasn’t the ward, or the visitors’ waiting area, or the place they called
School
, but which was just a table, a couple of chairs and a computer in the corner of the playroom.
    â€˜Where d’you really get to?’ she said. ‘When you go off the ward?’
    Jackson propped himself up on his elbow. Megan could feel him watching her, as if he was trying towork her out. ‘Well, it’s a big hospital,’ he said. ‘Hundreds of floors, and buildings and lifts. Then there’s the old bit, lots of corridors, and shadows and things you don’t want to meet in dead of night …’
    â€˜Stop it, Jackson,’ Megan warned. ‘Keep that stuff for Becky and Laura. Come on. Out with it!’
    There was a laugh from low in his throat. ‘OK … well … the porters’ place, staff restaurant, laundry, visitors’ restaurant, chapel …’ He paused as if for breath, or to see what she made of it so far.
    Megan looked at Jackson, imagining him not stopping at the chapel, or the laundry, imagining him walking very casually, very coolly, out through the main doors, down the path, away into the street.
    â€˜â€¦ the doctors’ residence, the nurses’ home … at least I think that’s what it was …’
    â€˜You haven’t been to all those places.’
    â€˜I so have.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Why not?’ Jackson grinned, his teeth white in the moonlight. ‘It reminds them I’m still here. They’ll miss me when I’m gone.’
    â€˜Like a hole in the head.’
    A clock struck, kept on striking, each note a low boom across the city. It was midnight. Mr Henry would be out and about rat-catching, creeping over rooftops, climbing buildings, sitting on windowsills, peering in at people who should be asleep.
    â€˜So apart from drawing,’ Jackson said, as if talking about himself was suddenly boring, ‘what else do you do?’
    â€˜Football,’ Megan answered.
    Jackson made a pillow of his arms. ‘Football? You watch it, right?’
    â€˜I play it.’
    â€˜But you’re a girl! Girls don’t do football,’ Jackson mocked. ‘I don’t know what Becky and Laura will say about that! And Kipper, come to think of it. You’re meant to do proper girl stuff, like … I don’t know … clothes, shopping, make-up.’
    â€˜That’s not all girls do!’
    â€˜Isn’t it? The girls
I
know don’t play football.’
    Megan rolled her eyes. ‘Well … duh … ! I do!’ There was a pause while Jackson digested this.
    â€˜Any good?’
    â€˜I was the only girl in the school team,’ she answered. ‘We were doing all right.’
    Jackson made a noise, which she supposed meant he was impressed. ‘You must be good, then.’
    The defiance left her. What was the point of talking about something she might not do again? She’d never be as good and they’d hardly let her back on the team, after so long away from it.
    â€˜I
was
.’
    â€˜Hey, it’ll be OK. You’ll see.’ Jackson might have been reading her mind. ‘When they let us out of here for good, I’m back in the band and you’re back in thesquad.’ He yawned and stretched once more, his limbs looking even longer, more supple, more sinewy. He nudged his drip stand out of the way to make more room. ‘In fact, they’re letting me out. Tomorrow.’
    â€˜Home?’ Megan’s heart tripped. How would she get through to the end of this week without him? ‘For good?’
    â€˜Nah. Back in a few weeks.’ There was a pause. Megan looked over at him. He was gazing at her. ‘Will you be here?’
    â€˜Maybe.’
    Jackson said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard, or didn’t care either way. Or perhaps it was because he was no longer