One Hour to Midnight (5 page)

~***~

Veronica greeted they grey dawn with something verging on relief.

She'd spent the night alternating between tossing and turning, and dozing off, only to wake in the grip of strange over-the-top dreams. Dreams in which Leon and sex figured far too prominently.
 

Hot monkey sex. Damn Tania.

She dragged herself out of bed, stumbled into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. While she waited for it to heat, she stared out the window into the garden that was taking on form in the strengthening daylight. She rubbed the heel of her hand against gritty eyes.

But the ache didn't diminish.

The ache for her baby vied with the ache of her unrequited longing for Leon.
 

Just as the kettle came to the boil, a knock sounded on the front door.

She grimaced. It didn't take a genius to know who'd be knocking on her door at dawn. With a fatalistic sigh, she opened the door to Kathleen. Even this early in the morning, the older woman never had an iron grey hair out of place. A bakery bag dangled from one hand.

"Veronica?"

Suddenly the tears she'd vowed not to shed were streaming down her face.

With a muttered oath, Kathleen shoved the bakery bag on the hall table and swept Veronica into her arms.

She buried her head against Kathleen's sturdy shoulder and sucked in a shuddering breath, her senses filled with the familiar scents of peppermint overlaid with a faint trace of mothballs.

With a superhuman effort she managed to control her tears.
 

"What did that bastard want?" Kathleen gripped her shoulders and held her away so she could look into her face.

"Don't, please," Veronica whispered as she pulled away rubbing at her eyes. "It's Jordan, he has leukaemia."

"Oh hell." Kathleen gave her a tight hug and then briskly put her to one side. "First things first. You need breakfast." She picked up the bakery bag and strode through to the kitchen. "Good the kettle's hot."

A weak laugh escaped Veronica. Kathleen never changed and in short order tea and croissants were spread on the table in the breakfast nook. Kathleen raided the fridge for Marmite and apricot jam. "Come and have breakfast. Not another word until you've eaten."

The delectable smell of freshly baked croissants made Veronica's stomach grumble. When had she last eaten?

Without a moment's hesitation she sat down and tucked in. When she'd devoured the last morsel of croissant slathered with apricot jam, she looked up at Kathleen. "Thank you, I needed that."

The older woman's lips curved in a faint smile. "That much about you hasn't changed, Ricki. When you're upset you forget to eat."

"It's Veronica."

"Is it?" Kathleen watched her, head on one side. "Give it away, Ricki. Now tell me, all of it."

And that quickly, the oppressive weight of guilt and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her. She fiddled with the spoon on her saucer.
 
"Jordan has leukaemia. Leon wants me to be tested as a possible bone marrow donor."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He wants you to go to Melbourne?"

Veronica nodded and spread her hands in a helpless gesture and Kathleen scowled. "You can easily have those tests done here."

"I know and I've already arranged for the initial blood tests to be done later this morning. They take time and Jordan's condition is critical." She bent her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair. "But if I'm compatible, I'll need to travel to Melbourne for further tests and the procedure."

She glanced up at Kathleen, and then wished she hadn't. This woman knew her too well.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Kathleen leaned across the table and caught her restless hand, holding it tightly.
 

Startled, she glanced up at the older woman. "What else could it be?"

Kathleen shook her head, her expression resigned. "You've never got over that man, have you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm neither in my dotage nor stupid, child." Kathleen expelled an impatient breath. "You fell in love with Leon Karvasis when you were in a very vulnerable situation. The bastard preyed on that then, and he's preying on you now."

Kathleen's harsh words were like a knife slipped between her ribs. Veronica pulled her hand free and pushed away from the table. She walked across to the credenza where she'd laid Jordan's photo.

"Do you expect me to refuse? To not do anything to help my son."

Kathleen's hand gripped her shoulder forcing her to turn and meet her eyes.
 

"First off, Veronica, Jordan isn't your son. He's not been your son since the moment you relinquished him to Karvasis and his wife." She opened the side door of the credenza to expose the collage of photos hidden there. "Nor is this shrine you've created in any way healthy."

Veronica sucked in a sharp breath, surprised that Kathleen knew where she kept the photos. Her harsh words battered Veronica's already bruised spirit. Why had she not known Kathleen harboured such bitter thoughts?

"Do you expect me to just forget about Jordan? To not go to Melbourne to help him?"
 

"No, of course not. I'd be disgusted with you if you did refuse to help." Kathleen made an impatient gesture. "But it's not your help or lack of it that's at play here, is it?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Don't you?" Kathleen paced across to the window and back. "I've watched you pine over that man since Jordan's birth, despite Tania and Cathy trying to drag you back into the dating scene."

Veronica looked at Kathleen with dawning comprehension. "You encouraged them to set me up with dates?"

"I have. It's well past time you started to live again." The older woman gave an inelegant snort.
 
"You exist, day by day
.
God forbid, you end up like me."

Jaw slack with shock, she stared at Kathleen. Tania's joking words echoed in her head.
Watch it, Vic. You've got the cat, the cottage and you're looking thirty in the eye.

"What do you mean?"

Kathleen paced across to the window and back, her steps bordering on aggressive. "I've never told you this, and now I'm thinking that perhaps I should have."

"Told me what?"

"Your mother was my best friend." Kathleen shook her head. "She was very like Tania, with the same spirited, effervescent personality. She lit up a room just by walking through the door."

Veronica sank down into a wingback chair, watching Kathleen intently. The older woman rarely talked to her about her parents. "And?"

"I was the opposite in every way, staid, academic and watched life from the fringes. Philip was my first serious boyfriend."

"Philip? My father?"

Kathleen sank into the chair opposite. "Yes, your father. He was a professor of medicine at Auckland University."

She swallowed hard, her gaze trained on the older woman. "What happened?"

"Hélène was away overseas when I met Philip. He asked me to marry him and I asked Hélène to come home and be my bridesmaid. I so wanted them to meet." Kathleen gave another derisive snort. "My fiancé and my best friend. The morning of my wedding, they eloped. At least they got a message to me before I turned up at the church."

"No!" Veronica moved and knelt in front of Kathleen and gripped her hands. "How could they do that to you?"

"Better before we tied the knot than later. At least that's what my father said."

"So how come I ended up boarding at your school?"

Kathleen lifted a hand and stroked the hair back from Veronica's forehead. "There was the deuce of a scandal. Things were different then. Philip was asked to resign his professorship and your mother persuaded him to join doctors without borders."

"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."