Read Online One Hour to Midnight by Shirley Wine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirley Wine
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sickness had robbed his son of his vitality, made him think about things no ten year-old-boy should ever have to consider.
Could it be because you ended up with the child Yannis used as barter to pay off his debts?
Veronica's bitter words ate at him, as corrosive as acid. How could she think I'd be a party to something so…so heinous?
"Of course she likes you, she's come all the way from New Zealand to help you, hasn't she?"
Jordan lapsed into silence and then he looked up at Leon. "If I die will my other mother come and look after you?"
Hardly. She thinks I'm a lower life form than pond scum.
"You're not going to die, Jordan. Veronica's bone marrow will make you well," Leon said firmly, trying to shift Jordan's thoughts from death and dying.
There was a soft knock on the door and a nurse opened it. "You have a visitor, Jordan."
As Veronica walked into the room, Jordan's drowsiness vanished and he struggled to sit up.
Leon let out a low, relived breath. Thank God. She'd seen sense.
"Easy, son," Leon said, leaning past Jordan and putting another pillow behind his back. "Hello Veronica, Jordan's so eager to meet you."
Breathing deeply, Veronica struggled with appalled shock.
Was this pale, listless child resting against blue pillows the same child in her photographs? His hair was dull, violet bruises of illness lay beneath eyes far too large for his gaunt face.
Leon, protectively garbed, rose from his chair at the far side of the bed, his eyes wary.
"Hello, Jordan." Ignoring Leon, she spoke softly to Jordan, hoping her anxiety or emotion was concealed as she came face to face with the evidence of Jordan's fragility. "Thank you for my mouse. It's so cute."
"Dad really chose it." He looked at her, head on one side, obviously curious.
"I already guessed that," she said with a soft laugh. "He knows I collect little silver animals."
"Dad said you're my other mother." He struggled to sit up. "Are those for me?"
"Yes." She handed him the balloons and even that small effort made his hand tremble.
"They're neat." He grinned as he studied them. "How do they make them like this?"
She watched as he danced the poodle across his counterpane and then the cat, her heart aching with grief.
"It's all one long balloon, blown up with a small air compressor and twisted into shapes." Leon, ever watchful, put another supporting pillow behind his back.
She glanced at Leon and then wished she hadn't when she saw his residual anger.
Raw and vulnerable, she looked back at the child who, for a brief few hours, had been hers. Jordan looked up from the balloons and she saw the same keen expression in his eyes as the man sitting so protectively beside him.
In that moment she faced the bleak truth. Kathleen was right. While Jordan may share her eye colour, he was more Leon's child than he'd ever been hers.
"Dad said you weren't coming."
"I changed my mind. I can only stay a little while. Professor Carey wants me to go to the seaside."
"You'll come back?" There was a note of unmistakeable panic in Jordan's voice.
"Of course, I will. I promise." She committed this moment to memory. This was hers for all time. No one could take these moments from her.
"Are you scared?" Jordan glanced up, his eyes wary.
"Yeah. But not scared enough to chicken out, how about you?"
"Same. It's a bummer to have radiation and chemo but Dad says your bone-marrow will make me well." He fiddled with the balloons and then looked up at her. "If the transplant doesn't work, Dad said it doesn't hurt to die, an angel will come for me and take me to my Mum."
Hearing Jordan speak so candidly about the possibility of dying made Veronica swallow hard, her gaze winged to Leon's. In his eyes she saw an answering agony and despair.
And for a few brief moments, they shared the intimacy of parental care and an unspoken understanding passed between them. They would do whatever it took, make whatever sacrifices necessary, to help this child
Could it be because you ended up with the child Yannis used as barter to pay off his debts?
Veronica's bitter words ate at him, as corrosive as acid. How could she think I'd be a party to something so…so heinous?
"Of course she likes you, she's come all the way from New Zealand to help you, hasn't she?"
Jordan lapsed into silence and then he looked up at Leon. "If I die will my other mother come and look after you?"
Hardly. She thinks I'm a lower life form than pond scum.
"You're not going to die, Jordan. Veronica's bone marrow will make you well," Leon said firmly, trying to shift Jordan's thoughts from death and dying.
There was a soft knock on the door and a nurse opened it. "You have a visitor, Jordan."
As Veronica walked into the room, Jordan's drowsiness vanished and he struggled to sit up.
Leon let out a low, relived breath. Thank God. She'd seen sense.
"Easy, son," Leon said, leaning past Jordan and putting another pillow behind his back. "Hello Veronica, Jordan's so eager to meet you."
Breathing deeply, Veronica struggled with appalled shock.
Was this pale, listless child resting against blue pillows the same child in her photographs? His hair was dull, violet bruises of illness lay beneath eyes far too large for his gaunt face.
Leon, protectively garbed, rose from his chair at the far side of the bed, his eyes wary.
"Hello, Jordan." Ignoring Leon, she spoke softly to Jordan, hoping her anxiety or emotion was concealed as she came face to face with the evidence of Jordan's fragility. "Thank you for my mouse. It's so cute."
"Dad really chose it." He looked at her, head on one side, obviously curious.
"I already guessed that," she said with a soft laugh. "He knows I collect little silver animals."
"Dad said you're my other mother." He struggled to sit up. "Are those for me?"
"Yes." She handed him the balloons and even that small effort made his hand tremble.
"They're neat." He grinned as he studied them. "How do they make them like this?"
She watched as he danced the poodle across his counterpane and then the cat, her heart aching with grief.
"It's all one long balloon, blown up with a small air compressor and twisted into shapes." Leon, ever watchful, put another supporting pillow behind his back.
She glanced at Leon and then wished she hadn't when she saw his residual anger.
Raw and vulnerable, she looked back at the child who, for a brief few hours, had been hers. Jordan looked up from the balloons and she saw the same keen expression in his eyes as the man sitting so protectively beside him.
In that moment she faced the bleak truth. Kathleen was right. While Jordan may share her eye colour, he was more Leon's child than he'd ever been hers.
"Dad said you weren't coming."
"I changed my mind. I can only stay a little while. Professor Carey wants me to go to the seaside."
"You'll come back?" There was a note of unmistakeable panic in Jordan's voice.
"Of course, I will. I promise." She committed this moment to memory. This was hers for all time. No one could take these moments from her.
"Are you scared?" Jordan glanced up, his eyes wary.
"Yeah. But not scared enough to chicken out, how about you?"
"Same. It's a bummer to have radiation and chemo but Dad says your bone-marrow will make me well." He fiddled with the balloons and then looked up at her. "If the transplant doesn't work, Dad said it doesn't hurt to die, an angel will come for me and take me to my Mum."
Hearing Jordan speak so candidly about the possibility of dying made Veronica swallow hard, her gaze winged to Leon's. In his eyes she saw an answering agony and despair.
And for a few brief moments, they shared the intimacy of parental care and an unspoken understanding passed between them. They would do whatever it took, make whatever sacrifices necessary, to help this child
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