Now she wasn't sure he would get much older, and in the past months had quite often slept in the bottom one herself. Tonight she intended to do just that.
'What story would you like, Val?' She rummaged through the dozens of story books on the matching pine desk. 'How aboutSinbad?She knew it was one of his favourites, but when she turned back to the bunk his eyes were closed and he was fast asleep. Leaning over him, she kissed his pale cheek, her heart full of love, and whispered the Lord's Prayer as she always did, adding a plea for his full recovery.
Tears hazing her eyes, she stripped off her own clothes and burrowed under the Daffy Duck coverlet on the bottom bunk. She closed her eyes. She did not want to think, but she could not close down her mind so easily. Last night she had slept in Justin's arms, and tonight hewould be sleeping—no, not sleeping but something! — with the lovely Jess. In her, Zoe's, house.
Zoe had loved Justin once, and with his betrayal she had grown to hate him. Then, a few days ago, she had realised that she still loved him. But now she hated him yet again. The saying went that hate was the other side of love—one emotion but sometimes mistaken for the other. But as she lay curled up in the small bunk, her thoughts spinning like a windmill, she came to the conclusion that popular belief was wrong: it was possible to live with love and hate. Two opposite emotions could coexist in one person. Her hatred of Justin was real; she despised what he was. But she did love him.
She lay staring at the blank timber above her, wondering what the couple downstairs were doing now, and hating the images that her vivid imagination flashed in her mind. It didn't matter, she told herself. Nothing mattered but Val.
How long she lay there listening to the faint, reassuring sound of her son's breathing she had no idea, but suddenly the door opened and Justin walked in.
'So this is where you're hiding. I might have guessed.' He strolled across to the bunks, leant over and kissed Val, and then sat down on the edge of the lower bunk, bending his head to avoid banging it on the bar. 'Really, Zoe, you are being very childish. Jess was hoping to get to know you better.'
Her eyes, widening in horror, flew to his face. Incredibly he was deadly serious. She could not believe the sheer audacity, the barefaced cheek, the nerve. . . 'I—I ' She couldn't find the words. 'Oh, get out,' shefinally said, defeated.
'Not without you, Zoe. Now be sensible.' His head bent lower and his lips sought hers.
'No,' she protested vehemently.
'Yes,' he drawled throatily, his hand sliding around her neck and lifting her face for his kiss.
'Let go of me and go. I want to stay here with Val tonight. Have you forgotten tomorrow is the day we. . .?'
Justin leant back, his hand falling from her neck. 'No, I haven't forgotten. How could I? It's my result we're talking about, Zoe, and I had thought we could comfort and support each other.'
'I need to stay here with Val.'
'And what of my needs?' he asked sardonically.
She could see the angry glitter in his dark eyes by the moonlight shining through the window, and for a second she thought she saw despair, but the moon drifted behind a cloud, plunging the room into darkness, and she dismissed the thought, saying bluntly, 'Go and see Jess; I'm sure she can help you.'
She watched him walk away, and suddenly she didn't want him to go. Surely it must have meant something that he had come to her first?
Leaping out of the bunk, she dashed to the door, in time to see him disappear into the one remaining spare room—Jess's. Well, what had she expected? she asked herself fatalistically, and with one last kiss for the sleeping child she crawled back in the bunk, pulling the cover up over her head.
The journey to New York the next morning was horrendous. Breakfast had been a silent affair. Stilted good mornings had been exchanged between the three adults. Zoe had given Val a quick kiss and a hug before getting into the car for the first leg of the journey.
She hated leaving Val with Jess. The only thing that had persuaded her had been the fact that she had arranged for Margy to pick Val up in a couple of hours, and she had finally found the spirit to tell the black-eyed witch to leave as soon as Margy arrived.
She glanced sideways at Justin as he drove the car through the early morning traffic. He was staring straight ahead, his expression dark and brooding, and he somehow looked so alone that she couldn't help it—she put her small hand on his muscular thigh. 'It will be all right, Justin; we have to think positive. . .' She needed to talk, perhaps to disguise her
nerves, her own worst nightmare. 'I know you're frightened of blood, but don't worry, you'll be fine.'
'Me, worry?' He shot her an angry look. 'If anyone needs to worry it's you. You do realise that if I'm not a match you have, in the last few hours, completely alienated the only other person who can help?'
'What? What are you talking about?' she asked, completely lost.
'Stop playing the dumb innocent, Zoe. I cannot believe how nasty you were to Jess, and she is our last hope. You do realise that, don't you?' he demanded with icy sarcasm.
'Jess?' His girlfriend? A horrible black chasm opened in front of Zee.
The car screeched into the airport car park, and Justin, without glancing at her, got out. 'Hurry; the plane is waiting.’
She had to run to keep up with him. 'Justin, wait.' But he chose not to hear and he did not even look at her until they were safely strapped into their seats on the plane.
'Some mother you turned out to be, allowing your personal prejudice to blight Val's chances.'
'Who exactly is Jess?' She ignored his biting comment and grabbed his hand, which was lying on the armrest between them. 'Tell me, Justin.'