One Hour to Midnight Page 2

  Leon parked on a grassy verge overlooking the sea.

  Through the windscreen¸ the Waitemata Harbour danced and sparkled in the summer sun. Motutapu Island lay straight ahead in a blue haze, sheltered within the arms of the Hauraki Gulf. The pohutukawa trees dotting the foreshore were still tinged with their summer mantle, the ground below, crimson with needle-like petals.

  His stillness only served to increase her apprehension.

  Leon was never diffident, yet she sensed a distinct hesitation. She glanced at his profile but gleaned nothing. Intuition warned that whatever had driven him break his solemn promise and seek her out was no trifling matter.

  "Leon?"

  He sighed harshly and opened his door, walked around, opened hers and held out a hand.

  Instinctively, she took it, and was jolted by another memory. Heavily pregnant, Leon had helped her from a similar vehicle.

  With a ragged breath, she tore her hand away from his and walked toward the shore only stopping when curling waves, sand and pebbles barred her way.

  She was far too aware of the silent man beside her.

  Each quivering breath was laden with the spice of new mown grass, summer heat on salt wrack and the woodsy pine of Leon's cologne. Veronica curled her arms around her body, trying to ward off the primitive sensations, tension sat in her belly, as heavy as a brick.

  Why does he still affect me like this? After all these years?

  "Come and sit down." His brisk words cut through her turbulent thoughts; his hand on her elbow warm.

  She shrugged off his touch. Being this close was torture enough without any added stimulus. They walked towards a huge pohutukawa, its twisted limbs testament to years of struggle against remorseless ocean winds. Leon leaned down and brushed fallen leaves and needle-like crimson petals from a crude seat built within a buttressed root.

  Unable to stand the tension a moment longer, she sat down and turned to Leon. "What's this all about? What do you want?"

  "You." He slanted a swift assessing glance her way. "Not you personally, I need your help."

  The air was sucked clean out of her, leaving her winded. Somehow she managed to take a breath. The cool, precise words ripped open an old wound. Of course Leon didn't want her, he'd never wanted her. He'd only ever wanted the baby she carried.

  He half turned toward her on the rough seat, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

  "Why?" Anxiety tasted metallic on her tongue.

  "Before I explain, can I ask you one question?" His keen grey gaze skimmed over her in one comprehensive glance.

  She nodded, so nervous her mouth and throat were dry.

  "Have you any close ties, Veronica," he asked, his voice even and unemotional. "A lover? Children?"

  For several heartbeats shock held her motionless.

  "You mean you don't know?" The question burst from her in a rush of searing anger. "I'd stake my life on you even knowing what brand of muesli I eat for breakfast, so cut the crap and tell me why you're here."

  His betraying flush did nothing to ease her rage.

  It might be years, but she knew damn well Leon Karvasis never embarked on anything unless he was fully informed.

  He caught her hand and held it tightly. "I'm here because Jordan is dying."

  And in one horrifying moment Veronica's fury evaporated.

  She turned and looked at him, eyes so wide open they hurt, gaze fastened on his face. The breath caught in her throat and then escaped in a rasping rush.

  "Jordan's ill?" she asked in a tortured whisper, grief a barb in her heart. "What's wrong with him?"

  "He has a virulent strain of leukaemia." Leon raked an unsteady hand through his silver streaked hair, the sun glinting off the gold of his wedding band.

  Nausea and shock rose up inside her in great debilitating waves. She shook her head in disbelief, eyes closed. Her nails bit crescents deep in her palms. Whatever she'd expected, it wasn't this.

  "Ricki?" At his soft question, she opened her eyes.

  The sky and sea were still the same smoky blue. It was her mind that painted them grey. She struggled to breathe, blood pounded in her temples and sweat dampened her palms. Each shallow, ragged breath inflicted excruciating pain.

  Not my baby. Dear God not my baby.

  "Without a bone marrow transplant he will die." Leon's harsh, even voice added to her horror and shock.

  "But he's only ten. A little boy. How can he die?"

  "Age is no barrier to death." He gave a ghost of a smile. "We've searched but can't find a compatible donor. Statistically, you or maternal siblings are his best chance of a donor match."

  Is he hoping I've made another mistake?

  When Leon caught her hand in his, she clung to him. The physical contact all that stood between her and a complete meltdown.

  "He's in isolation in hospital. Would you come to Melbourne and be tested? And donate bone marrow if you're compatible?"

  With a shuddering breath, she fought to assimilate his words. Beneath them, she caught a jagged undercurrent of torment.

  "How long has he been ill?" The words scraped past frozen vocal cords. There's no way I can refuse to help.

  "Three months."

  Shock gave way to scorching anger. She yanked her hand from his. "And you just tell me now?"

  "We hoped it wouldn't be necessary. But we've exhausted every other option."

  "I see." Ice congealed in her veins. Now the first rush of shock receded, she saw, far too clearly. She was the choice of last resort.

  "Would you help him? Please, Ricki."

  "I use my given name now. Veronica."

  He didn't need to know she'd loathed that name most of her life. To confess that would create a spurious intimacy. Leon Karvasis had sought her out for one reason and one reason only, her usefulness to help his son.

  But what else could she expect?

  In the past Leon had offered her shelter, help that was a very thin guise of his intention, a ploy so he and his wife could steal her baby.

  She glanced up and caught the ugly expression that turned his grey eyes almost black but when she glanced at him a second time, that disconcerting expression was gone.

  "I'll make it worth your while."

  Indignation and temper had her leaping to her feet. She faced him, hands clenched. "I don't want your money! I will do everything in my power to help Jordan, but I want nothing from you, Leon. Nothing! You can keep your stinking money."

  Everything in the Karvasis family came down to money. And now this wealthy family, with its huge sense of self-entitlement, was learning the hard way, that there were some things money simply could not buy.

  If the situation were not so serious, she would be rubbing her hands in glee.

  Unable to bear being near him, she strode across the grass to the car. Leon followed more slowly.

  She was silent during the short drive back, but her thoughts raced. She would ask Kathleen for immediate release from her teaching position at Northcote Academy and she could be in Melbourne within a day. She glanced at her silent companion but he stared straight ahead, concentrating on the road.

  If Leon had broken a solemn promise by seeking her out, she was breaking an equally avowed oath that nothing would induce her to return to Melbourne.

  Man plans and God laughs.

  Well if God was up there watching them, he must surely be chortling.

  Despite the heat of the summer sun, Veronica was chilled to the bone.

  Leon pulled the powerful car to a smooth halt beside the curb outside her cottage and turned in the seat to face her. "I'll arrange flights and accommodation for you."

  "No," she said vehemently. "Give me an appointment and the address. I'll make my own arrangements."

  His escaping breath was loud in the confines of the car. "Don't be obstinate."

  "I'm not being obstinate. I pay my own expenses Leon. And—" she broke off, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

  "And?" His dangerously
quiet tone sent a shiver down her spine.

  "I want nothing from you," she finished grimly. "No money. No visits. No personal contact."

  Leon frowned and subjected her to another of those piercing looks, nodded and spread his hands; the movement had the sun catching his wedding band. "As you wish."

  She expelled a shaky breath. I don't wish, it's self-preservation, pure and simple.

  Sometimes, in a moment of desperation, life offers the clearest of insights. And this moment was one of them. For years she'd managed somehow to live with the crippling burden.

  Rage. Shame. Betrayal. Sorrow.

  All of these.

  Now, looking into the depths of Leon's grey eyes, she knew without a shadow of doubt, she couldn't survive with first-hand knowledge of the family Leon and Julia had created with her child. Knowing would be the one thing that would finally break her. She fumbled the door handle, desperate to escape the confines of the car.

  As she emerged, Leon stood watching her across the roof. "I'd like to thank you for helping."

  "I'm helping Jordan, not you, Leon."

  His eyes narrowed, his mouth thinned to an unforgiving line. He pulled a photo from his shirt pocket, allowing her the briefest of glimpses. "In that case you won't want this."

  Disappointment seared Veronica. How could he be so cruel?

  Afraid of being reduced to begging, she turned and ran up the path. As she struggled to fit the key in the lock, a firm hand gripped her shoulder. She glanced up into Leon's stern face through a blur of tears.

  "This is for you," he said gruffly.

  He took the key, opened the door, laid photo and key in her palm and guided her gently through the door. Once inside, he closed it behind her.

  Slumped against it, she succumbed to reaction.

  Her hands shook as she scoured the photograph with hungry eyes. Jordan had grown, his features were more defined. He had her eyes and smile, and the dimple in his cheek, but the heavy brows, square cut jaw were all Karvasis.

  Oh yes! Yannis Karvasis has stamped his mould on this child. And for that I'll never forgive him.

  The memory of Yannis Karvasis rose up to taunt her.

  How could I ever have been so stupid, so naïve as to fall for his facile charm?

  Veronica studied the photograph again, shuddering as an excruciating pain lanced her heart. Or so freaking stupid as to accept Leon's offer of assistance?

  I thought in Yannis I'd found my dream of a home of my own— I was such easy prey.

  She blinked until the weakness passed. She refused to cry.

  Ten years ago, the agony she'd expended over her lover's treachery had left her soul-empty.

  With an enormous effort, she'd rebuilt her life. Now, in the space of an hour, all that effort proved useless. After days spent wondering how her baby was spending his tenth birthday, she now knew.

  He was fighting for his life.

  Chapter Two

  The cat flap trembled as Mutley insinuated his body through the aperture. The big cat wove around Veronica's ankles, and sensitive to her distress, leaped up onto her knee.

  Veronica hugged him close, rocking back and forth in the old rocker in front of the windows overlooking her garden. Today, she never even saw the slice of heaven she'd spent so many hours creating. Today her agony went far deeper than pottering in her garden could cure.

  She buried her face in Mutley's black fur, tears leaking from beneath tightly closed eyelids. The cat purred and rubbed his face against hers.

  I never knew I could hurt so much?

  And why do I care?

  I've had no contact with Jordan since the day he was born.

  Bringing him into the world was so hard. Leon rubbed my back, talked nonsense to distract me and at one hour to midnight, he placed my baby, wet and bloody, in my arms.

  Jordan was so small, red and wrinkled, and so precious. As I held him, I knew those brief few hours had to last me a lifetime.

  The sound of a key scraping in the lock barely registered through her misery.

  "Veronica?"

  She lifted her face from Mutley's fur surprised to see Tania, the bubbly redhead unnaturally sober. She swiftly crossed the space, knelt in front of the chair and gripped Veronica's hands tightly.

  "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice a mere cracked whisper.

  "Milas asked me to come. You didn't ring back and we were worried." Tania gently shook her hands. "What did that fiend want, Ricki? What did he do to you?"

  "Why are you calling me that?" she asked on a broken laugh. "I haven't been Ricki for years."

  "I rang Kathleen, asked what she knew about Leon Karvasis." Tania shook her head, her flame curls swinging. "And she went ape. Something about cutting off his balls and shoving them down his throat. She meant it too."

  "You're joking?"

  "I swear to God, I'm not. She said, 'If he thinks he can hurt my Ricki again, that bastard will have to come through me'." Tania sat back on her heels and made air quotes around the words. "So what gives with the name?"

  "I was always called Ricki."

  "And you changed it? Why?"

  "Veronica is my given name. And when I returned from living in Australia, I desperately needed a new name and a new start."

  "I never knew you'd lived in Australia?"

  Veronica looked at her friend shaking her head. There was so much Tania didn't know because her past was far too painful to share.

  "Kathleen wanted me to go to university. But by the end of college—" her voice faded.

  "You were heartily sick of school?"

  "And some! I'd never been out of a school a single day of my life. You can't imagine what that's like."

  "I don't think I'd ever forgive my parents if they'd dumped me in a school, and then promptly forgot I existed."

  Looking into her friend's vivacious face, Veronica thought it highly unlikely Tania's parents, or anyone else for that matter, could ever forget she existed.

  Not like me. I'm so very forgettable.

  All the old, sick, desolate loneliness welled up.

  I only ever wanted a normal home and normal parents. Instead, my parents thought the starving poor were far more deserving of their time and love than I ever was.

  "It's okay. I came to terms with it years ago." Veronica shrugged, glanced at her friend and then looked away.

  "Did you?"

  Veronica wasn't prepared to touch that one. "I did a deal with Kathleen. I'd have a gap year."

  "Like they do in England."

  "Something like that." She shrugged and spread her hands. "Only it never turned out how we intended."

  "You met Leon Karvasis?"

  "No, his brother, Yannis."

  "The guy who committed suicide?"

  The words hit Veronica like a punch in the gut. Unwelcome memories flooded back. "How'd you know that?"

  "Milas told me a little about the scandal." Tania's grip on her hands tightened, "He said the brother left huge gambling debts, embezzled company funds to the point that the Karvasis empire was threatened with bankruptcy."

  "And so much more that the public never got wind of," Veronica said on a soft sigh. The lid lifted on memories sealed away for years allowing them to escape.

  "Milas said that since then, Leon Karvasis has kept a tighter grip on the Karvasis empire than a miser on a bag of gold. He said only something damn serious would see him relinquish control."

  Jordan's dying. Leon's unequivocal words echoed like a ceaseless drumbeat through Veronica's brain.

  It didn't get more serious than that.

  She gave a broken sob. "Jordan's dying. That's why Leon's here."

  And the past merged with the present and the future.

  "Jordan?"

  "He's my baby and Leon's son." Weak tears flooded Veronica's eyes. Saying the words opened the gaping crack in her broken heart, just that much wider.

  "You had Leon Karvasis's baby?" Tania asked in a horrified whisper.


  "No, Yannis's baby."

  "The brother?" Tania sat back on her heels, her grip on Veronica's hands tightening when she nodded. "So, how come your baby ended up with Leon?"

  "Yannis was a gambler and owed the wrong people a lot of money." Veronica stared at their joined hands. Even now, that time of her life was painful to talk about. "He was on the on the run, panicked and asked Leon to rescue me."

  "They came after you?"

  Veronica gave a convulsive shudder, her grip on Tania's hands tightened. "There were whispers, but I'll never know for sure."

  "And had Leon not arrived….?" Tania's voice faded.

  Veronica shrugged and met her friend's horrified gaze. "It never made it to the press, but Leon arrived in the middle of the night, bundled me into his car and we drove for hours. Later Leon's wife let slip that the cottage I'd shared with Yannis in Jacobs Well was torched not long after Leon whisked me away from there."

  "Holy guacamole," Tania breathed softly. "And had you still been there—"

  "God knows what would have happened." Veronica shook her head. "Leon took me to Claremont, his home in Melbourne. When Jordan was born, he and his wife adopted him."

  "So why's Leon here?"

  Veronica looked at her friend, tears overflowing. "Jordan has leukaemia. He's in a very bad way."

  Tania harsh breath was loud in the quiet room. "Shit! Is there nothing they can do?"

  "He needs a bone marrow transplant."

  Tania sat back on her heels. "That's why Leon came to see you?"

  Veronica nodded, sucking in a shuddering breath.

  Tania rose off the floor and walked to the side board. "This calls for a drink? What've you got? The stronger the better."

  ~***~

  The strident ring of the doorbell shattered the evening quiet. Snapping on lights as she went, Veronica walked to the door and opened it. Leon surged past, not giving her a chance to block his entry.

  She instinctively took a step backward, a hand over her heart in a vain attempt to slow its beat. She should have expected him, but he too, had managed to catch her by surprise.

  "What are you doing here?" She watched as his eyes scanned every detail of the small entryway. Leon never missed a thing.

  That shrewd gaze raked her from head to foot. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I dumped a lot on you this morning."