Page 52 of Storm Child


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Evie opens a window and tilts her face into the rushing air. I notice her hands. She has picked off her nail polish and bitten her cuticles raw. A bad sign. She switches on the radio and flicks between stations, looking for a song that suits her mood, which is sour. Finally, she connects her phone and plays techno, loudly, because she knows it annoys me.

At the hospital, we wait in a patient lounge decorated with posters of healthy, attractive people doing active things because they’ve been vaccinated or taken the proper vitamins or eaten five servings of vegetables a day.

‘It’s probably nothing,’ I say.

‘If it was nothing, we wouldn’t be doing this,’ says Evie, who is playing on her phone.

She’s right. I stop talking.

Evie’s name is called. We’re ushered inside an office with a desk, three chairs, two filing cabinets and the bust of a small plastic brain that can be taken apart like a three-dimensional jigsaw. The desk also has a silver-framed photograph of two children, a boy and a girl in their early teens.

Dr Bennett brushes her hair behind her ears and rests her hands on her desk. ‘Thank you for coming, Evie,’ she says brightly. ‘And you, Dr Haven,’ pronouncing my name with a degree of professional respect. She has a blue manila folder under her wrists.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ asks Evie, not interested in small talk.

‘You have a small growth in your temporal lobe. It measures about three centimetres across and is a solid mass about the size of an almond.’

‘In my brain?’ asks Evie, as though wanting clarification.

‘Yes,’ says the doctor.

‘A plum?’

‘About this big.’ Dr Bennett holds up her hand and makes a circle with her fingers.

‘How did it get there?’ asks Evie.

‘Tumours form when a normal cell develops a mutation and changes its DNA. The mutation tells other cells to grow and divide, forming a tumour.’

‘And it’s growing,’ says Evie.

‘Most likely, yes, but it may be very slow, and it could be benign.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It could be harmless,’ I say.

Evie, incredulously, ‘A tumour can be harmless?’

‘Yes,’ says the neurologist. ‘But even if it grows slowly, it may eventually press upon your brain and create neurological problems.’

‘What sort of problems?’ I ask.

‘Behavioural and emotional changes; impaired judgement, increased inhibitions. It can also cause memory loss or affect your sense of smell or vision.’

‘Take it out,’ says Evie.

Dr Bennett looks at her, as though she might have misheard.

Evie repeats the instruction. ‘I don’t want it growing inside me. Take it out!’

‘You don’t have to decide that now,’ says Dr Bennett. ‘I’d like to run a few more tests. A biopsy is the first thing. Under anaesthetic, a surgeon will drill a very small hole into your skull and use a needle to take a sample of the tumour tissue for analysis. We’ll learn if it’s malignant or benign. You won’t have to stay in hospital. You’ll be home the same day.’

‘What’s malignant?’ asks Evie.

‘Aggressive and life-threatening.’

‘Just take it out.’

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