One Hour to Midnight Page 4

  "I thought they were missionaries?"

  "They were, later. They were in Kenya in the years after Idi Amin was overthrown. You were born there. When you were two, they brought you home to live with your grandparents and they returned to Africa."

  Veronica remembered this. "And when my grandparents were killed…"

  "Your mother flew home. You were six and had just started school. Hélène came to visit and asked if you could stay with me."

  "After eloping with your fiancé?" Veronica stared at the older woman in shocked disbelief. "What a nerve."

  "Your mother wasn't short on cheek," Kathleen said with dry humour. "I was going to tell her to take a hike, but she brought you, a terrified child, dragged off by a stranger to be left with yet another stranger. It made me so angry. Your whole life had been tipped upside down. And your mother," she shook her head, "was upset that her parent's death had left her inconvenienced with you. She was a supremely selfish woman."

  Veronica digested these words in a haze of shocked disbelief. "That's so awful."

  Kathleen's grip Veronica's hand tightened. "I was shocked and horrified. I'd known your grandparents all my life, they were such kind, generous people."

  "My best memories of Grams are her merry laugh, and even to me as a child, she was a little lady."

  "She was a little dot of a thing." Kathleen's smile was reminiscent. "Your grandfather a big strapping fellow…"

  "With a booming laugh," Veronica quipped and then asked, "Did my mother ever love me?"

  "She was too much in love with herself to consider the needs of a child." Kathleen's acerbic comment came as no real surprise. "It was only supposed to be an interim measure until their next furlough."

  It was Veronica's turn to snort. "And they promptly forgot about me."

  "Not quite," Kathleen said soberly. "They were away two more years, before they came back. Your parents arrived to collect you, ready to play at being your parents for three months, before they returned to another mission deployment in the Ivory Coast. I was furious, with them and their selfishness."

  Veronica watched the older woman frowning. "I don't remember spending any time with them?"

  "You didn't. I refused to let them uproot you again. You'd only just settled after the tragedy of losing your beloved grandparents. Hélène turned on me, accused me of wanting to keep Philip's daughter because I couldn't hold onto Philip."

  "That's so not fair," Veronica said heatedly. "Why did they ever have me if they were just going to dump me with other people?"

  "Precisely what I asked them. You didn't even know who they were, when they visited. When they first left you with me, they appointed me as your legal guardian. I contacted Social Services; they agreed and refused to allow your parents to uproot you."

  Veronica sat back on her heels, her brow puckered in a frown. Why had she never known this? "What happened?"

  "Your mother got in a real snit. She had a vicious temper when roused. They got the next plane to Africa, with the parting shot that they would contest your custody when they next returned."

  "And they never did."

  "No. Their plane was shot down over Africa." Kathleen grip on her hands tightened. "I've always felt guilty about that. But would I do the same again?" She gave a grim smile. "Definitely."

  Veronica watched her, frowning in concentration. "And how does this affect me, now?"

  "In a way Hélène was right. I did use your father, and you, as a shield to keep other men at arm's length."

  Her words echoed in a lengthening silence.

  "And now, Veronica, you're following my example, using a married man and a child who's not yours, as a barrier between you and a fulfilling life."

  ~***~

  Professor Carey held open the door for Veronica. She stopped in mid stride when Leon stood as she entered.

  For three full days she'd told herself she didn't feel anything for him. She'd convinced herself that Kathleen was wrong. She wasn't using Leon and Jordan as shield to keep life at bay. She wasn't pining after Leon. She didn't have any feelings for him.

  But as she walked into that consulting room, she knew she lied.

  "Why are you here?" She covered her chagrin with annoyance. She looked from Leon to the consultant.

  "Mr Karvasis is here at my request, Ms Langdon. It's protocol." The doctor ignored her outburst, closed the door and indicated a chair. "Do take a seat. It's important that there be no misunderstandings."

  Did these men think she was incapable of making a decision? "I'm quite capable of making my own decisions."

  "Give it a rest," Leon said, exhaling on a sigh. "Thank you for coming."

  "I gave you my promise," she said meeting his grey gaze without flinching. He looked tired and drawn, and she was sure he'd lost weight in the days since she'd seen him.

  "Thank you for your initiative in getting the initial blood work done." Professor Carey gave her a shrewd look from under beetling brows. "The results will be faxed here and this will minimise any delay."

  Anxiety clutched at her heart. Was Jordan worse?

  With grudging reluctance, she conceded now was not the time to protest her need for separation from Leon and his family.

  A worry teased at the edge of her mind.

  Where was Julia? Surely she was concerned with Jordan's illness. Or was she one of those women who dissociated herself from sickness?

  She had no time to dwell on the thought as Professor Carey was talking and she was forced to concentrate.

  "Before you can donate bone marrow we need to be sure your body will tolerate the intrusion. We must also be certain you have no underlying health problems that can harm Jordan. Mr Karvasis will meet any medical costs incurred, okay?"

  "That's fine by me." She gave Leon a narrow-eyed glance, then flushed as she caught the swift look Professor Carey directed their way as he opened a folder on his desk.

  "The initial blood work for compatibility is already underway. If you are compatible, then we will administer an anaesthetic to extract bone marrow from the large bone in your thigh. We'll need your authority for that procedure, are you okay with that?"

  Despite her apprehension, she nodded. "Of course."

  This after all is why I'm here.

  Leon leaned forward and gripped her hand. "Thank you."

  The brief contact made her heart trip in her chest. I am a fool. One small gesture and it feeds the craving in my heart.

  Kathleen's words ghosted through her mind. You fell in love with that man when you were in a very vulnerable situation.

  The memory of those hot, erotic dreams, sent heat into her cheeks.

  "Here's what needs to be done to help Jordan." The Professor's words jerked her to attention. He turned and switched on an illuminated screen covered in diagrams and outlined the tests, then the procedure to extract bone marrow.

  "Every risk is minimised, but we can't guarantee you won't react to the physical intrusion." Escalating trepidation made it difficult for her to meet the doctor's eyes. "You do understand this?"

  "Yes." She took a shaky breath, rigorously damping down nerves. "And Jordan?"

  "Again there is no guarantee. During the procedure there's little risk, but there's a high risk his body will reject your bone marrow. We won't know until after the transplant is done."

  Veronica stared at him as she digested these words, horrified. "You mean this isn't a complete cure?"

  Professor Carey spread his hands. "Without the transplant, Ms Langdon, Jordan will die. With a transplant, he has a fighting chance."

  "I didn't realise," she whispered, shaken.

  She heard the sharp breath Leon sucked in, and then his hand was warm over her chilled one. Instinctively, her hand turned in his and clung. She would take all the comfort she could get in this grim situation.

  Any lingering hope that Leon had somehow exaggerated the gravity of Jordan's illness, died as she looked from one grim face to the other.

  "We've despa
ired of finding a donor." The doctor's grave words emphasised Jordan's dire situation.

  And there's no guarantee I'll even be a donor match.

  Nausea churned in her stomach, and her hands were clammy. "What other risks does he face?"

  Dear God this is my baby we're discussing.

  "Infection is the big one. Jordan's cell counts are so low, he's very susceptible to any stray bug."

  "What can you do?" She touched her tongue to parched lips.

  "Keep him in protective isolation until after a transplant and he begins making new blood cells."

  Veronica was appalled. What effect would that have on a ten-year-old boy? She glanced at Leon and saw the agony in his eyes he couldn't disguise.

  Her heart ached for him and a slow curl of anger wound through her distress.

  Where was Julia?

  Why wasn't she here supporting Leon? Or was she with Jordan?

  "How does a transplant work?" she asked, desperate for information.

  "To receive donated marrow, we need to kill off Jordan's diseased marrow with radiation and chemotherapy." Professor Carey looked at her. "You're willing for us to set up the donor tests?"

  "Of course I am." She took a shocked breath. Did they think she would refuse? Until now, Jordan's illness had seemed vague. Now it assumed graphic proportions.

  "Good. We'll start immediately. A nurse will show you to your room." He pressed a buzzer.

  A nurse entered and Leon stood, picked up Veronica's case and followed. He caught her hand and held it in a tight grip.

  She glanced at him and was shocked by his pallor and clasped his fingers in silent empathy.

  The lift took them to a pale blue foyer, the walls one shade lighter than the carpet underfoot. Palms filtered green light through tall windows, pictures brightened walls, creating an ambience that belied the functionality of this exclusive clinic.

  "You're in here, Ms Langdon," the nurse preceded them into a room. "Unpack and I'll bring you a tea tray."

  Leon put her case on the rack and walked to the window standing with his back to her.

  "How can you bear it?" She burst out in deep distress.

  Leon didn't answer. She laid a hand on his arm, and looked up into his face. Those grey eyes glittered with tears. Her heart turned over. If she'd ever harboured any doubts about his love for her child, they vanished in that instant.

  Impulsively, she hugged him.

  Leon had been more than generous when she'd needed comfort. She could do no less now. For a moment he didn't respond then he crushed her against him, his cheek against her hair. He was trembling. Shudders wracked his large frame, and the dull, heavy beat of his heart beat against her breast.

  It was like coming home.

  Surrounded by his warmth, his vulnerability tore at her self-control. She inhaled deeply and her senses filled with a heady mix of cologne, honest sweat and something uniquely his own. For long moments she savoured the passionless embrace before pushing him away, needing distance from temptation.

  "It's lousy hearing how little chance Jordan has." Leon spread his hands, his grey eyes as bleak as a winter storm. "Just pray you're a match."

  She was almost paralysed by the same sense of helplessness. "I thought a transplant was a certain cure."

  "You heard the doctor. No guarantees."

  Anguished words trembled on her tongue, but protest was useless. Anxiety for Jordan was as acute as was another tormenting question.

  Had Julia abandoned Jordan in his hour of need?

  Veronica steeled herself to ask. "How's Julia coping? Why isn't she here with you?"

  She made herself meet Leon's eyes.

  An eerie silence settled. His expression was unreadable, as blank as new canvass.

  "Julia is dead. I thought I'd told you."

  Chapter Four

  Shock robbed her of breath. Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned to face him. "Julia's dead?"

  Leon nodded as he watched her, his expression impassive.

  "How? When?" The scratchy questions scraped past vocal cords almost paralysed with shock. "And you know darn well you never told me."

  "I didn't think it relevant." Leon shrugged.

  Not relevant?

  The shocking words hit her like a fist in the solar plexus.

  "She died over two years ago after a long battle with melanoma." He turned to stare out the window.

  Veronica studied his rigid back. His brief words raised more questions than they answered.

  "The letters—" she broke off, heat scalding her face.

  "I can write." The quiet words added another layer to her mortification.

  It was Leon, not Julia, who sent me those yearly updates on Jordan?

  "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a suffocated whisper clenching her hand so hard, the nails bit into her palm.

  "Give me one reason to believe you would be interested? One reason I could believe."

  Offended heat flooded her cheeks but she subdued an impetuous retort. Far less easy to subdue was the recognition of Julia's manipulation.

  Now, with the perspective of time and distance, Veronica could see how Julia had used her own infertility to apply subtle, unrelenting pressure on her teenaged houseguest. Julia never missed an opportunity to reinforce her ability to provide a new-born baby with every advantage, at the same time skilfully undermining the teen's confidence that she could nurture her baby.

  Nausea churned in her belly. Why had Leon remained impervious to his wife's manipulation? The answer to that question stood watching her now, through narrowed eyelids.

  Leon wanted my baby, too.

  A nurse entered the room with a tea tray and broke the escalating tension.

  "Put it on the table," Leon said tersely. "Ricki can pour."

  The nurse did as instructed then smiled coyly at Leon. "Is there anything else you require?"

  With cynical detachment, Veronica watched another female fall victim to the Karvasis charisma.

  "No, thank you"

  After one more envious glance, the nurse left, leaving a tense, brittle silence.

  "I'm sure you remember how I have my tea," Leon drawled.

  For a moment she was tempted to tell him to pour his own when his wry amusement registered. He was not responsible for fluttering female hearts.

  She poured his tea, weak, black with one spoon of sugar and a few drops of lemon juice. Leon made no apology for eschewing the more macho brew of strong, black coffee.

  He leaned over and took his cup. "Quite like old times."

  She was deeply distrusting of his bland expression.

  "It's nothing like old times," she said tartly, needing to quash any sense of closeness. Being with him stirred too many painful memories.

  "I guess not. That Ricki was more than an icy shell."

  What had he expected? The same naive teenager caught in an untenable situation? "That Ricki was a gullible child. And like all foolish children, Leon, she grew up."

  "Into Veronica?"

  "It was more than time." She winced at the mocking inflection he gave her name.

  "Perhaps, we'll see."

  The cryptic comment unsettled her and covertly observing him, she noted his worried weariness. Her anger ebbed. "How is Jordan?"

  "He's no better, and perhaps more fortunately, no worse." He raised bleak eyes. "Would you please visit with him?"

  "No." Her denial was shockingly loud.

  "Why not?" He caught her wrist, preventing her rising from her chair. "Was all that angst just an illusion?"

  Her eyes skimmed his austere features, before dropping to her wrist. His dark skin contrasted starkly with her paler tones. Sensation burned at her defences.

  "Three days ago, your anguish would melt a heart of stone. Now you won't walk a few hundred yards to visit your son. Why?"

  For mind-numbing moments, she just stared at him. Couldn't he grasp that to see Jordan once would never be enough?

  It was that simp
le and that difficult.

  "Jordan's not my son, Leon." She managed to smile. "He's your son. Legally, emotionally, and by virtue of parental involvement."

  The admission lay between them, a bald statement of fact.

  "You gave him to us, of your own free will." Leon held her impaled on an unrelenting grey gaze.

  "Yes." The admission hurt as much as a stake driven into her heart.

  I did give Julia my baby. And within the protective circle of Leon's arm, she never once glanced up from looking at Jordan's darling face, totally uncaring of my heartbreak.

  Veronica bit her lip and blood bloomed in her mouth.

  Assailed by a far too familiar, hollow emptiness, she wrapped sensitive arms around her midriff to assuage an ache powerful enough to rip her apart.

  An ache ten years had done little to diminish.

  What seventeen-year-old girl fully understood the ramifications of relinquishing her child? Veronica knew she'd not understood the heartache that awaited her.

  "You were always free to be a part of his life, our family." Leon's measured tone intruded

  "Would you settle for such a distant role in your child's life?"

  "It was all that was on offer." Leon put down his cup with a decided click.

  She shivered and inched her chin higher. "It wasn't one I wanted or could accept."

  "Yannis was no longer around to give you the role you aspired to." He gave her a measured glance. "Always providing his wife would have divorced him first."

  The silky observation hit a raw nerve. "I didn't know your brother was married."

  "Would it have made any difference if you had?"

  "Of course it would! What sort of woman did you think I was?" She stared him, horrified. No sooner had she uttered the impetuous words than she wanted to claw them back.

  "I'm sure you don't want me to answer that, Veronica."

  She flinched and heat surged up her neck. She leaped out of the chair and walked to the window, remembrance twisting a knife in her heart.

  Leon had been kind and sheltered her from the scandals that erupted in the wake of Yannis's suicide. But beneath it all, lay a scarcely veiled contempt.