Текст книги "Someone Else's Life"

Автор книги: Katie Dale

Соавторы: Katie Dale,Katie Dale
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“Come on, come on,” Jack urges as Sarah speeds

through Bramberley, through Maybridge, and on toward

Westhampton, to the clinic.

stare out the window, willing the roads to clear,

the lights to turn green.

We have to get there in time—she can’t go through

this alone, it’s too hard.

“It’ll be okay,” Sarah says quietly, catching Jack’s eye

in the rearview mirror. “Whatever the outcome, promise

it’ll be okay.”

He looks away.

We finally arrive at the clinic, and race into the

waiting room, an awful feeling of déjà vu hitting me like

sledgehammer as scan the patients waiting anxiously on

the hard plastic seats, reading the same magazines

flicked through just weeks ago. feel sick.

“Holly?” Jack cries, bursting through the door.

“She’s not here,” tell him miserably. “She must’ve

already gone in.” All on her own

“Can help you?” the receptionist asks.

“I’m looking for my daughter,” Jack tells her

breathlessly. “Holly Woods. Is she here? Has she gone in

yet?”

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The receptionist glances at me, then back at Jack.

“I’m afraid can’t give you that information, sir,” she says

awkwardly. “Patient confidentiality.”

“Screw patient confidentiality!” Jack bangs his fist

on the counter, sending leaflets scattering to the floor.

“She’s my daughter—my little girl!”

The receptionist backs away, startled. “I’m sorry,

sir.”

“I’m her midwife.”

turn, surprised, as Sarah walks confidently up to

the counter, showing her ID.

“I need to see my patient urgently. Could you tell

her I’m here, please?” She eyeballs the receptionist, who

hesitates.

“Look,” she says slowly. “I’ll let the counselors know

you’re here, all right? Then if Holly’s here, she’ll be told.

Okay?”

Jack hangs his head, exhausted. “Thank you,” he

sighs as she picks up the phone. He glances at Sarah.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She smiles.

“Take seat,” the receptionist says, and Jack slumps

into

chair.

follow silently. There are no words. No

comfort. Only the wait. Always the wait. The weight.

sigh, my eyes wandering aimlessly around the

room, feeling uncomfortable and restless in this too-

familiar place. This was me. I’ve lived this. This is where

sat while Mum had her tests, got her results, where sat to

get my own. The familiar wallpaper, the saccharine-

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smelling air freshener. But this time it’s worse. This time

there’s so much more at stake.

My gaze trails to the window, the winter sunlight

struggling through the stubborn clouds. Across the street,

children squeal and giggle as they chase each other

merrily round colorful payground. My eyes follow little

girl as she races from the climbing-frame to the swings,

her daddy pushing her higher and higher as she shrieks in

delight, until suddenly she jumps off, sprinting toward the

seesaw, the slide, her next adventure. The swing jangles

wildly in her wake, careering forward and backward,

joyful still, despite her absence.

On the swing next to it, someone else sways

listlessly, barely moving at all.

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Holly

kick at the leaves as swing slowly by, watching as

they scuffle and scatter, living for moment in the breeze,

before dropping, lifeless, into the mud.

One leaf still clings to its branch, high above me. It

quivers, fluttering and flickering as the wind tugs at it

again and again—and yet still it stubbornly holds on,

glistening in the sunlight.

In all likelihood it too will eventually fall and

become mucky, trampled into the sodden ground. But

maybe

merciful breeze will spare it—carry it safely to

alight on rooftop or nest. Maybe, somehow, it will cling

to its branch forever. But for now it glimmers, golden in

the winter sunshine. Untouched. Its destiny undecided.

watch the children race around me, laughing and

shrieking, their chubby cheeks rosy with adventure, their

eyes sparkling with possibilities, and close my eyes, the

hot tears spilling down my cheeks. hug my coat tighter,

as if can protect my child with this cocoon, keeping out

the cold and the danger, holding on to my burning heart,

my aching hope.

“Holly!” The word whispers on the wind and tickles

my ear. “Holly!”

open my eyes.

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“Holly!” the voice calls, louder now. “Holly!”

Dad? look up slowly, my face numb with tears.

“Oh, Holly!” Dad runs across the grass toward me.

“Holly, thank God!”

“Daddy?” My voice cracks as he drops to his knees

in front of me, engulfing me in his arms.

“Dad …,” cry, drowning in his embrace, unable to

believe he’s real. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

He pulls back and cups my face in his hands, his

eyes deep green overflowing pools. “You’re here,” he says

simply, stroking my hair from my face, kissing away my

tears, which are mingling with his own. “You’re here,

Holly-berry. Where else would be?”

crumple into his arms, the pain suddenly

overwhelming.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he soothes, holding me tight. “I

can’t imagine what you’ve gone through—what you’ve

been going through all this time—all on your own …” He

trails off, his eyes bright. “But I’m here now. It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right!” cry miserably, tears flooding my

words. “Daddy, I’m pregnant—the baby—”

“Shhh.” He pulls me close, holding me together as

fall apart. “It’ll be okay,

promise—whatever happens,

whatever you decide.”

My insides twist painfully.

Whatever decide …

“I’m here for you,” he says gently. “I’ll come into the

clinic with you, hold your hand—if that’s still what you

want?”

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stare up at him, sobs clogging my throat, tears

filling my eyes. want to be strong, to be brave enough to

face the truth– the consequences, but …

clutch my

stomach desperately. But can’t

Dad strokes tear from my cheek.

“If not—if you’ve changed your mind and you don’t

want to know yet—that’s okay too,” he promises, kissing

my forehead. “It’s not too late.”

screw my eyes shut, helpless to stop the tears as

they stream like acid down my cheeks, my head throbbing

mercilessly, my heart on fire.

“It’s your child, Holly,” he says gently, his voice like

cool water. “Your choice. I’ll support you either way, you

know that.” He strokes his thumb gently along my jawline

and bite my lip. “You’re my little girl.”

look up at him, his face shining with love. Words

stick in my throat and hold on tighter, his arms warm

and strong around me.

My dad

think, melting into him. No matter what

the truth is—the blood, the DNA. He always has been.

Even though he knew he might not be. But didn’t know,

and was happy. bury my head deeper into his jacket,

into the familiar smell I’ve known since was little girl.

Sometimes it’s not the lies that hurt you realize. It’s the truth

close my eyes. “Daddy …,”

whisper, my skull

throbbing. “I want my baby.”

“Okay,” he sighs, engulfing me in his warmth. “Oh,

sweetheart, that’s okay.” He folds himself around me,

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shielding me from the cold winter wind, the world, the

truth.

“You’ve made lot of tough decisions lately, huh?”

He glances over at the parking lot, where Rosie is standing

with Sarah, then back at me, his eyes full. “I’m so proud of

you, Holly-berry,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he

holds me tighter than ever. “You’re gonna be wonderful

mum.”

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Rosie

The sun finally breaks through the clouds as we

round the corner away from the clinic.

watch it

disappear in the rearview mirror, behind the trees, the

lampposts, the houses; then sink back in my seat, my

eyes closed, glad to leave it behind for the very last time.

So this is how it ends, think, glancing at Jack, his

arm around Holly in the backseat. My dad. smile. found

him, and he’s terrific. We’re reunited.

family. And

now

now we’re all going home.

My gaze falls on Holly, her eyes closed, exhausted,

the opposite side of my coin in so many ways. She made

the choice

couldn’t. She decided not to know. She’d

rather live life hoping for the best than risk discovering

dark cloud looming over her future. Maybe she’ll be lucky,

maybe she’ll be clear, maybe she’ll never develop

symptoms. Even if she does, it won’t be for many years.

Perhaps there’ll even be cure by then. Maybe she’ll live

long and healthy life with her child and I’ll get hit by bus

next week. Who knows?

glance at Sarah in the driver’s seat, her face aged

decade since saw her last, haunted by the repercussions

of one split-second decision she made eighteen years

539

ago

Her eyes meet Jack’s in the rearview mirror again.

This time he smiles peacefully as he strokes Holly’s hair.

The past has passed, after all. It’s time for us all to

move on, look to the future.

Time to say goodbye.

sigh as climb out of the car and look up at Nana’s

house. The front door opens and freeze as recognize the

familiar face.

Andy.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, walking down the drive

toward me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

beam at him, my heart racing. What’s he doing

here? He should be on the other side of the world—

shouldn’t he?

He glances at the car.

“I came to give Holly lift to …” He hesitates. “Has

she—is she …?”

“No.” shake my head. “She chose not to know.”

He looks relieved.

“But what are you—how did you—aren’t you meant

to be in

Cambodia or something?” stammer.

“Vietnam.” Andy nods. “Yep. Yep, am.”

“So you came all the way back home

for Holly?”

ask.

“Well, no …,” he confesses sheepishly, hands deep in

his pockets. “Not exactly …”

“Then …?”

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“Well …” He sighs, shuffling his feet through the

leaves as he shuffles closer. “I realized I’d left something

behind …”

“Oh?” The scent of his aftershave drifts on the

breeze as he moves closer.

“The same thing

keep leaving—the most

important thing of all.”

“Your passport?” whisper, his breath warm on my

face.

“No, idiot. Much more important than that.” He

grins, brushing my hair behind my ear. “I keep leaving

you.”

My heart flips, my skin tingling at his touch.

“I thought

was missing out, being stuck in tiny

Provincetown, that was getting in the way and missing

my trip—the adventure I’d looked forward to and worked

for and planned for so long …” He sighs. “I didn’t get it.

You’re the adventure, Rose– you’re the trip! You’re bloody roller coaster!” He grins. “You’re what made New

York so incredible—you’re what made me want to go

traveling in the first place. This is our dream. Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand

it doesn’t mean anything unless

you’re there.”

He looks deep into my eyes and my pulse races.

“I can’t go without you, Rose.” He shakes his head.

“There’s no point—I’d rather not go at all. I’ll wait for you,

we’ll travel together.” He cups my face gently, smiles.

“When you’re ready

I’m gonna be right here waiting for

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you,” he promises, pulling me close, searching my eyes.

“However long it takes.”

look at him and can hardly breathe, my heart

thumping like crazy against his, my necklace nestled

between.

“I love you, Rosie Kenning, and want to be with

you. Full stop.”

“I love you too.” smile, and he kisses me,

long,

deep, lingering kiss that thrills through my veins and

makes my head spin dizzily, as only Andy can. kiss him

back, holding him as tight as possible—like I’ll never let

him go again.

“Oi, no snogging on the driveway, young lady!” Jack

shouts.

laugh, my cheeks hot as

turn to grin at him

standing by the doorway with Nana, Holly and Sarah.

“Can we cadge lift to the airport, young man?” he

calls.

“Certainly, sir!” Andy salutes, kissing me again

before going to unlock his car.

take

deep breath and steel myself, my insides

twisting. hate goodbyes.

walk up the driveway, gazing fondly at the little

bungalow, at Nana in the doorway, and my heart aches.

know I’m doing the right thing. It’s time to go home. For

all of us. Them to New England. Me to my old England.

More or less.

It’s so weird—it’s only been few weeks, just over

month, really, since left, but it seems like

lifetime. So

542

much has happened, so much has changed. Yet here

nothing has so much as shifted position. Nana’s garden

gnome is still fishing determinedly in the frozen pond, the

hall clock still runs two minutes fast, the old family-photo

collage still hangs at

jaunty angle beneath—I even bet

Cary Grant’s still in the DVD player. Everything the same

as it always was, as it always has been—ever since Mum

was little girl.

Mum My heart floods with love for her. My mother,

my mum. She always was. She always will be. She beams

down at me from multitude of photos, her chestnut hair

gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Trudie

“Oh, Rosie, I’m so happy you’re home.” Nana smiles,

and suddenly see Mum there too—in Nana’s sparkling

eyes, her bright smile, the warmth of her hug as she holds

me tight, her hair soft as candy-floss against my cheek, her

love spreading through me like melted chocolate.

“Me too, Nana.”

hold her close, her small frame

dwarfed by mine, the familiar smell of hot tea and toast

wrapping round me like cozy blanket, engulfing me with

memories. press my eyes closed, imagining—fearing—

just how awful all this could so easily have turned out, and

my skin prickles.

“You’ve got goose bumps!” she laughs, rubbing my

arms. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” say. Just one more secret, one more lie

“Just

chilly.”

“You need

nice hot chocolate!” Nana grins.

“Warms you from the inside out, you know?” She winks.

543

look at her—so happy, so fragile, so precious

“That’d be lovely.” smile tightly, locking the truth

inside forever, realizing fully for the first time how Sarah

felt, why she kept her secret for so long.

Some things are more precious than the truth

544

Holly

“Goodbye, Holly,” Sarah says softly, almost afraid to

look me in the eye now that she knows who am. “Take

care.”

“Goodbye, Sarah,” sigh, gazing at the woman who

changed my life. The woman thought I’d hate—this tired-

looking woman with sorrow in her eyes and lines etched

across her face, who brought me chocolate mousse and

cared for my baby—who took me from my real mother

and gave me to my wonderful dad.

For that, could never hate her, not really.

Laura hugs me goodbye, and smile. She was right.

Que sera, sera squeeze her tightly, breathing in her faint perfume. You can’t predict how life’s gonna work

out

For better, or worse—I smile, thinking of Josh

waiting for me at home. For richer, for poorer—I think of Kitty

Usually life’s bit of all those things. But it’s what

you do with it that counts. And intend to make the most

of every single moment.

take deep breath as Rosie walks me to the car.

“Well,” say. “I guess this is it.”

She nods. We look at each other for an awkward

moment; then stick out my hand.

545

“Well, goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” she says quietly, taking my hand, then

holding on. “I know it’s not enough—it never will be …,”

she whispers, takes deep breath. “But Holly, really am

so sorry,” she says, her eyes deep in mine. “About

everything.”

look at her, my cheeks growing warm in the frosty

air, then shake my head. “It wasn’t your fault, Rosie.”

sigh. “It wasn’t anyone’s. Not really.”

“I’m still sorry,” she says softly.

look at her for moment. “Me too,” admit. “I’ve

been bit of bitch lately.”

She laughs, shakes her head.

“Blame the hormones.” grin.

“Congratulations.” She beams. “You’re going to be

such great mum!” She holds me close, and return her

hug, feeling all my resentment and hurt finally ebbing

away.

“And for what it’s worth,” she whispers, “I think you

made the right decision.” She pulls back, her eyes earnest.

“I think some things you’re better off not knowing.”

nod slowly, then glance at Laura standing by the

door. squeeze Rosie’s hand, lump forming in my throat.

“I think you’re right.” smile.

She follows my gaze, her eyes shimmering as she

pulls me into another tight hug. “Thank you,” she

whispers, squeezing me tight. “Thank you so much.”

smile.

546

“Now, don’t be

stranger,” she commands. “Come

and visit whenever you want—you know where we are

now.”

“Speaking of which …”

pull out the little pink

address book and give it to her guiltily. “I believe this is

yours—I, er, guess

got

bit confused about what

belonged to who …”

Rosie smiles, then tears page out. “Keep this,” she

says, handing me their contact details. “Then you’ll always

know how to find us– Mi casa et su casa.” She laughs at

the irony. “Literally.”

“You too,” tell her. “You’ll have to come meet this

little one when he or she arrives.”

“Try and stop me!” She grins, squeezing my hands.

“Thank you, Holly.”

Yes think, smiling as she walks away. She’s right

look at her as Dad hugs her goodbye. Father and

daughter

watch Laura’s face light up as Rosie hurries back

down the driveway. To her nana

smile at Dad as he slides into Andy’s car next to

me and squeezes my hand as we glide away from the curb,

heading for home. He pulls me close and kisses my head.

His daughter

close my eyes, the blood hot in my veins.

Undiagnosed …

Yes

think as Dad’s palm gently settles on top of

mine on my stomach, his large hand feather-soft, stroking

the resting place of my unborn child, who’s sleeping

547

soundly—its fate, its future unknown, new leaf springing

up on this bizarre family tree.

Yes, some things people are better off not knowing

548

Epilogue

Sunlight dances over the little girl’s red curls as she

gazes at the camera, her brown eyes wide as she suddenly

lunges chocolaty fingers toward the screen.

The picture immediately jolts and twists, continuing

at skewed angle as her chestnut-haired mother struggles

to wrestle the webcam from her iron grip.

“She’s gorgeous!”

tell Holly, laughing as she

adjusts the camera.

“Just like her mom.” Josh smiles, resting his head on

Holly’s shoulder as she beams at him. She’s glowing. They

both are.

“Well, she definitely got my hair, anyway,” she

concedes. “Born with whole head of it, poor thing!” She

grins. “So, Rosie, when’re you gonna come visit? Tru can’t

wait to meet her godmother.”

beam, my heart swelling at the name, and the

honor. can’t believe they’ve made me godmother!

“Red alert, red alert—she’s trying to suck you into

babysitting duties!” Jack appears behind Holly, grimacing.

“Holly seems to have an aversion to changing nappies!”

“They stink worse than you!” she retorts.

“Hey, Granddad.” grin.

549

“Watch it!” Jack laughs. “I’m feeling ancient enough

as it is. So, you coming over or what?”

“I’d love to, but start back at Sixth Form in two

weeks, and I’ve got heaps of catching up to do.”

“Ugh! Tell me about it!” Holly rolls her eyes. “I’ve

got so much reading to do before even start college!”

“Maybe Christmas, though?”

say. “Or Easter? Of

course, I’d have to come over for

wedding …” grin at

Holly and Josh. “Any sign of diamond yet, Holls?”

“Not yet.” She smiles at Josh, her fingers intertwined

with his like candy cane. “But you never know what the

future holds …”

look at them; they’re so happy. You never know …

She’s right.

year ago could never have imagined

that this was what the future had in store—that Mum

wasn’t really my mum; that her real daughter was on the

other side of the Atlantic; that I’d discover my real mother

was TV star, and that I’d be reunited with my wonderful

dad, my gorgeous half brother, and to all intents and

purposes

sister too

smile. We’ve come

long way.

And Holly’s so right. Who knows what’ll be around the

next corner—a wedding, tsunami, cure

All any of us

can really do is make the most of the time we’ve got, seize

the day, treasure every moment with the people we love.

My screen bleeps.

“Oh! I’ve got another call,” tell them. “It’s Nana.”

“Give her my love.” Holly smiles. “Speak soon.”

say goodbye, then connect to Nana. It still amazes

me how she’s got the hang of all this technology. She’s

550

whiz at Skype now, bought her own webcam and even has

her own Facebook account to keep up with my photos!

“Hello, sweetheart, just quickie, as saw you were

online.” She smiles. “I wanted to check you’re still coming

home next week?”

“Next Saturday, two-fifteen p.m.”

“Wonderful! can’t wait.”

smile. “Me neither.”

There’s no place like home, especially as it was so

nearly ripped apart.

still shudder to think how things

might’ve been if Nana had found out the truth—have to

watch myself every time mention Holly or Jack. guess

it’s something I’ll just have to live with—the last secret

have to keep.

“Holly sends her love,” say carefully.

“How lovely, and isn’t she doing well?

get her

updates on Facebook—isn’t her baby adorable?”

“Beautiful.”

smile

wistfully.

Your

great-

granddaughter My heart aches to tell her, but never can.

“She’s perfect.”

“All that gorgeous hair! Almost the same shade as

Trudie’s.”

bite my tongue and nod, the irony of her

comparison almost unbearable. “She was born with it,

Holly said.”

“Yes.” Nana beams. “It was the same with her.

Beautiful fluffy ginger wisps, and that funny little kinky

ear—like

little pixie.” She chuckles. “Just like her

mother.”

551

frown suddenly. “Nana, you don’t have kink …”

“And look at her now.”

My breath sticks in my throat as stare at her, her

eyes twinkling as goose bumps prickle down my arms.

“Nana …”

“Oh, Rosie, I’ve got to dash—the girls have arrived.

We’re going bowling.”

“What? Nana, wait—”

“I’m big girl, Rosie, you don’t have to worry about

me—on the bowling green, or off.” She winks. “I’m not

daft.”

stare at her.

“Listen, I’ve got to go—we’ll catch up properly

when you’re back, okay? It’ll be much better in person.”

She beams. “You can tell me everything I’ve missed. Now

stop worrying, and go and have fun!”

“Okay, but—”

“I love you, darling—byee!”

“Love you …” The call disconnects and her name

fades on the screen. stare at it numbly for moment.

She knows …

My heart hammers wildly.

Has she always known …?

scour my memory quickly, remembering how

Nana was there the night was born, how she was with

Sarah when they discovered Kitty had run away, how she

always referred to me as miracle, how she didn’t think

Trudie would’ve coped without me

how insistent she

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was that take the test as soon as possible, even though

there isn’t cure …

step outside into the blinding sun, the air dense

and hard to breathe.

How she knew that Holly was born with ginger hair

and kinky ear …

The sand shifts beneath my feet.

Did she always know wasn’t Trudie’s baby?

Or has she just worked it out …?

Andy looks up from his tatty guidebook.

“Everything all right?”

look at him, my head spinning.

“Yes.”

smile blossoms slowly across my mouth. It

is. It finally is

Whether she always knew, or whether she just

figured it out– she knows. Nana knows– and it’s okay

everything’s okay …

She can finally know Holly—and Jack—and little

Tru

We can finally be family—a real family.

No more secrets, no more lies …

beam at Andy—my Andy—relaxed and bronzed

and happier than I’ve ever seen him, lying on the golden

Thai beach waiting for me, the sun warm on my face, my

heart soaring with the birds wheeling freely high above,

feeling simultaneously like I’m dreaming and like I’ve just

woken up. “Everything’s perfect.”

“Good.” He grins, dropping his book on his towel.

“Ready to dive in?”

553

The waves wink at me, glittering with promise as

far as the eye can see—as boundless, beautiful and

fathomless as the future.

“Definitely.” beam, sprinting across the beach, the

wind dancing in my hair, sand flying, shrieking with

laughter as Andy chases me toward the sparkling water,

the crashing waves, the infinite horizon, our footprints

mingling in the sand behind us

554

Author’s Note

Huntington’s disease (HD) is terminal hereditary

disorder of the central nervous system, caused by faulty

(enlarged) gene on chromosome 4. Named after Dr.

George Huntington, who first described the hereditary

disorder in 1872, HD affects as many people as

hemophilia, cystic fibrosis or muscular dystrophy.

Every child of parent with Huntington’s disease is

born with 50 percent chance of inheriting it. If the child

does not inherit the gene, he or she cannot pass it on—it

cannot skip generations. If the child does inherit the gene,

he or she will, at some stage, develop the disease, if he or

she lives long enough. In 1993, the HD gene was isolated

and

direct predictive genetic test was developed. The

test can accurately determine whether

person carries

the HD gene, but not the age at which symptoms will

begin.

Symptoms of HD usually develop between the ages

of thirty and fifty years old, although they can start much

earlier (there is

rare juvenile form) or later and can

differ from person to person, even within families.

Likewise, symptoms can vary from person to person, but

include physical, emotional and cognitive changes.

Physical

changes

often

include

involuntary

movements (chorea), stumbling and clumsiness, difficulty

in speech and swallowing, and weight loss.

555

Emotional changes can result in stubbornness,

frustration, lack of inhibition, mood swings, paranoia,

aggression or depression.

Cognitive changes can include short-term memory

lapses, loss of organizational skills, difficulty multitasking, and loss of drive and initiative—which may be

misinterpreted as laziness.

Symptoms progress slowly over ten to twenty

years, with death usually resulting from complications

such as choking, infections, aspiration pneumonia (caused

by difficulties in swallowing) or heart failure.

Although there are currently about 6,700 reported

cases in England and Wales—and 30,000 in the United

States—probably over twice as many people are affected.

This is because people with HD often hide the condition

due to social stigma, or insurance or family issues, and

because many cases are never diagnosed. Many people

with family history of HD decide not to be tested, since

there is currently no cure, and people with no known

family history of the disease are also often misdiagnosed

with other conditions, such as dementia or depression.

Though no cure has yet been found, since the

discovery of the gene that causes HD, scientific research

has accelerated, and much has been added to our

understanding of Huntington’s disease and its effects.

There are many ways to manage the symptoms

effectively. Medication can be used to treat symptoms

such as involuntary movements, depression and mood

swings, while speech therapy can significantly improve

556

speech and swallowing problems, and high-calorie diet

can prevent weight loss and lessen symptoms such as

involuntary movements or behavioral problems.

Useful Websites

Huntington’s disease Advocacy Center:

hdac.org

HDSA National Youth Alliance:

huntingtondisease.tripod.com/nya

Huntington’s Disease Society of America:

hdsa.org

Huntington Society of Canada:

hsc-ca.org

Young People Affected by

Huntington’s Disease, Canada:

ypahd.ca

International Huntington Association:

huntington-assoc.com

557

Acknowledgments

Many thanks

To everyone whose lives have been touched by

Huntington’s disease, either personally or professionally,

who have helped me in so many ways, sharing their

knowledge, advice, and personal stories, particularly Matt

Bower, MS, CGC; Susan Walther, MS, CGC; Phillip Hardt;

Stacey Barton, MSW, LCSW; Professor Joseph Boyd

Martin, MD, PhD; Andrea Gainey, MS, CGC; Bonnie L.

Hennig, MSW, LCSW; Dave Stickles; Christina Barnes;

David Harbourne; Bill Crowder; Karen Crowder and

everyone in the HDA; Jean E. Miller; Frank Medina’s wife,

Gloria; Dave Hodgson; Hugh Marriott; Peter Webb and

everyone in the Sussex branch of the HDA; Tracie Tuhill;

Jean Morack; Fred Taubman; Jennifer Williamson, MS;

Adam Coovadia, MLT (CSMLS), MB, CG (ASCP); Kristin

Kitzmiller; Shelby Duffer, MS, CGC; Kendell Aitchison; and

especially to the exceptional and inspirational Pat Leslie-

Penny and Matt Ellison.

To Colleen Begg for her advice about maternity

wards.

To Miss Higgins for encouraging my writing after

reading my “Owl” poem.

To Ruth Moose for her wonderful writing classes at

UNC, where this story was born, and for introducing me to

the great SCBWI.

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To the Society of Children’s Book Writers and

Illustrators, particularly the fabulous Sara Grant and Sara

O’Connor, for running the incredible Undiscovered Voices

competition with Working Partners, giving unpublished,

unagented writers chance to climb out of the slush pile

and make their dreams come true.

To my lovely editors, Michelle Poploff, Venetia

Gosling, Jane Griffiths, Amy Black, and Rebecca Short, for

making this dream come true.

To my brilliant and very lovely agent, Jenny Savill at

Andrew Nurnberg Associates Ltd., for believing in

Someone Else’s Life from the moment she first read it—

and then helping me to ditch forty thousand words.

To Chris, for his constant love and support for my

pursuit of this dream, no matter how penniless I’ve been

or how hopeless it’s seemed, and for putting up with me

scribbling away beside him at ridiculous hours, and in the

craziest places.

To my granddad Charles, true gentleman, for his

selfless love of all his family and for always being so proud

of us.

To my lovely sister Caroline, for showing me that

joy and laughter can be found in every single day.

To my equally lovely sister Jenny, for her incredible

humor, courage, and selflessness whilst proving that while

life may not follow the route you planned, it’s what you do

with it that counts, for sometimes the greatest happiness

lies down those unexpected avenues.

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To my gorgeous niece Summer, my little clown,

with whom the world is an infinitely magical, hilarious,

and wondrous place.

To my wonderful dad, for his endless love, support,

wisdom, and humor, and for his ingenious “Moley” stories.

And finally to my amazing mum, for always

believing in me, encouraging me, and inspiring me every

day of my life.

Thank you all so much, from the bottom of my

heart.

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KATIE DALE loves nothing more than creating

characters—both on page and onstage. She studied

English Literature at Sheffield University and spent year

at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, followed

by

crazy year at drama school,

national Shakespeare

tour, and eight months backpacking through Southeast

Asia. She is busily working on variety of projects, from

novels to picture books, occasionally playing stage roles as

princesses, assassins, and zombies in between! She lives

in England.

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