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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

Pop opened his eyes and smiled—Farrells Bookshop in Mornington was the best around, and ever since I was a little kid, Pop had been taking me to the corner bookstore for a special treat every school holiday and plenty of weekends too. Any chance we could get, really. But between Pop’s fall and his stay at the RRC and everything that had been happening, it was a while since we’d been. I bought this book called A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning last time we were there. I hadn’t got around to reading it yet, but it sounded like a good story.

“It wouldn’t feel like proper holidays if we didn’t go to Farrells,” Pop said, and I smiled.

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30

Her Name Is Nora

When we got closer to Anika’s room, we could hear the TV blaring and voices trying to yell above the sound.

“Please, miss—you’re disturbing the other patients. . . .”

“Let her keep it on, it’s just the volume! She doesn’t understand. . . .”

“Ju lutem, ju lutem!”

“Don’t cry! We just want to . . .”

Sam and I stood in the doorway and blinked at the scene before us.

There was a TV hanging in the center of the far wall—so both patients could watch—and it was turned to the news channel, with the sound of the weather report echoing around the room.

Anika was sitting up in her bed, a mountain of pillows behind her, and she was trying to calm down the nurse who was over by the other bed. The nurse was waving her hands around and trying to get the remote control from the lady who was sitting up and refusing to hand it over.

It was the lady from the atrium garden, the pregnant one.

“Please, miss—it’s too LOUD!” the nurse was saying, raising her voice on the last word as though to explain herself better, while pointing at the TV and shaking her head.

The lady’s hair wasn’t in a braid today—it was out and wild, long down to her back and raven-black. She kept shaking her head and making her hair sway every which way. The nurse tried to pluck the remote control from her hands, but she clutched it to her chest, and I realized she had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Ju lutem,” the lady said again, holding the remote closer to her chest.

“For heaven’s sake!” The nurse threw her hands up and spun around. Her eyes widened when she saw us. “I’m fetching security,” she said, and then marched out of the room.

Anika threw her own hands up, and then did a double take when she saw us too.

“Quickly—go help the poor woman!” she said, looking at me.

I turned to see where the nurse had gone, but Anika waved her hands and said, “No, no. Not that Miss Trunchbull! Go and help poor Nora!”