Название | One Minute Later |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Susan Lewis |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008286743 |
‘Can I get you anything?’ Gina offered.
Vivi looked at her as hard as she could as she said, ‘Why do you do it?’
Gina flushed. ‘Do what?’
‘Why do you send him away when any fool can see that you want him to stay?’
Gina flinched. ‘He’s got someone else,’ she replied.
This was the first Vivi had heard of someone else, and for a horrible moment it felt as though he was cheating on her mother, and on her. ‘If it’s serious,’ she heard herself saying angrily, ‘then you only have yourself to blame.’
Gina didn’t argue, merely set about straightening up cushions that didn’t need it at all.
There was so much more that Vivi wanted to say, or shout, or simply beg answers to, but it took all the energy she had left to say, ‘Everything’s different now, Mum, I hope you realize that. I intend to find out the truth before I die,’ and knowing Gina understood exactly what she meant she turned away, not able to say any more for now.
Vivi had been awake for a while, remembering when Gil had come into their lives and bought a house only four doors away from Michelle’s parents on Westleigh Heights.
He hadn’t only done it for her so she could stay living close to Michelle, as she’d believed at the time, he’d done it for her mother and NanaBella, because NanaBella hadn’t wanted Gina and Vivi to leave Kesterly either. So Gil had kept everyone together by renting out his home in Bath, relocating his consultancy business to Kesterly, and, best of all, he’d come most days to pick her up from school. That had shut everyone up about her not having a father, because they’d been able to see him, and so what if he wasn’t a real dad? As Michelle used to say, ‘That makes him even more special, because he chose you.’
Smiling at the sweet belief of that, Vivi opened her eyes, and wondered what time it was and, for a moment, where she was.
As everything came into focus she felt herself swirling back towards an abyss of despair. At the same time she was glad to be here, at home, no longer in hospital, and really she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else, while this was happening.
While this was happening.
That made it seem temporary; something simply to be got through until better days dawned. It was a good way to think of it, far better than the alternative of days becoming shorter and darker until there were no days at all.
She closed her eyes again, and tried to refocus, to think of the reasons to be grateful, and the many things she needed to do before time ran out. She realized there would be no bucket list for her – or not one that included daredevil stunts, long-haul flights or weeks of hot, passionate sex on a beach in the South Seas with a younger version of George Clooney. Her list would have to be far less ambitious – organizing her meditation programme would be a start. She also needed to see her GP, meet the specialist team at the local cardiac clinic who were taking over her interim care, and then she should make sure that the Kesterly ambulance service had been informed of the need to rush her to the transplant centre at a moment’s notice should a new heart come up.
Feeling certain that the cardiac team had already done that, and if not her mother would have, she sighed shakily and tried to change her train of thought again. It did no good to torment herself with the deeply troubling issue of someone having to die in order for her to live. She wasn’t even on the most urgent transplant list – she’d probably still be in hospital if she were – so it was hardly an immediate nightmare. Maybe she should spend her time feeling thankful that she wasn’t too sick to receive a new heart, the way some people were. Nor was she having to cope with the life-saving horror of a VAD, or not until her condition worsened – which it would …
Don’t think about it, she told herself forcefully. For God’s sake put it out of your mind or you might as well give up now.
She needed to pick herself up, force herself forward and do everything in her power to make things matter again – and something that really mattered, and always had, was finding her father.
That was what she needed to focus on now, and so she would.
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