Read Online Pinprick by Matthew Cash - Free Book Online Page B

he forgot.
    It wasn’t until halfway through yet another exam that Shane even thought about his sister. As he scribbled away with his black biro, he tried his damndest to ignore the perpetual whistling, but eventually he paused and focused on the little hole in the pen lid. He smirked at a recollection of the time Catherine had taught him how to make little red indentation patterns by pressing the lid’s hole against his skin. Their worrisome mother rushing to the telephone to call the local doctor as she thought he was coming out with some weird allergic reaction. He needed to phone his sister.
    The communal phone receiver felt hot against his face with the warmth of the previous user. He dialled the hospital number his parents had given him and listened to the ringing.
    It felt like a millennium passed before, finally, someone picked up. It was his father.
    “Hey Dad, any news?” Shane asked straight to the point.
    “The twins went to the operating theatre an hour ago. They’re going to try and separate them if they can, lucky you caught me I was about to leave.”
    “Did they say how long the op would take?”
    “Could take up to twelve hours they said. Twelve bloody hours!”
    “Did they say what the odds were on it being a success?”
    Shane heard as his dad fumbled with something that sounded like paper; knowing his dad it was a list of all the vital information, ready for anyone who might ask him what was happening. He pictured his dad scribbling in his little notebook, word for word, what he’d been told by the hospital.
    “They said that it should be pretty easy going as they don’t share any organs, something which is virtually unheard of, but obviously it could still be risky as most of the specialists haven’t done this operation before and there’s a worry about blood loss.” He spoke fast, something he always did when he was worried.
    They tried to exchange small talk about his mum and sister but Shane could tell his dad was eager to go, so he promised to phone again twelve hours later.
    The twelve hours passed by in flurry of printed political manuscripts, scruffy spidery handwriting and copious amounts of black sweet tea.
    Eventually, Shane sat up from his work and peered through weary eyes at the clock above his desk. It was almost midnight and he knew that if his parents were at home that they would be going to bed any time now. He packed up his paperwork for the night and left his room.
    There weren’t many people in the communal area now, just one or two drunken revellers back from a night out.
    He dialled his parents’ number and waited. A girl hobbled past with a pair of red stilettoes hanging from one hand. He let it ring twenty times to make sure that if his folks were at home they had time to wake up and get it. Which meant either that they were travelling from the hospital or still there. Shane reluctantly hung up the receiver and went back to his room.
    He tried to sleep but couldn’t stop thinking about his sister. Her career had been completely destroyed now, that much he was certain. That traditional, country cunt Jack would see to it. There was no way he could imagine the farmer boy staying at home with the kids, it was unheard of.
    That’s if they’ve made it through , he thought. Shane felt a deep pang of shame and guilt when he realised part of him thought it would be for the best. That wasn’t really what he wanted, was it? All he hoped was that his sister would be happy and have no regrets.
    Was it heartless that he didn’t really feel anything for babies that might or might not survive? He traced a finger down the sickle scar on his head, an annoying habit he’d adopted after his accident. The scar tissue was raised slightly and smooth to the touch. He kept his head shaved on the lowest of grades since the accident and lost the Mohican out of sheer laziness. University had tamed his whole punk image and all he really had time for were his studies. He felt slightly