'Don't be ridiculous; you know perfectly well she's my half-sister. She might have been unpleasant to you last weekend but she had her reasons, and as soon as I told her about Val she came over as quickly as she could to offer her help. Which for some perverse reason you refused.'
'Oh, my God!' Zoe clasped her hands to her head; she could not believe what she had done, what she had thought of Jess. 'But wait a minute.' She lifted her head, staring with haunted eyes up at Justin's dark, implacable face. 'You told me you only had a stepsister.'
'I did no such thing, Jess is my half-sister-—we share the same father. Why else. . .?’
He stepped, his dark, piercing gaze scrutinizing her white face. 'Wait a minute; you mean you thought Jess was my mistress? You actually thought I invited a girlfriend to share the house my wife and son call home?'
Hard fingers gripped her chin and turned her head to meet the searing fury of his glance. 'You actually believe I am so lacking in morality, so despicable that I would do something so low? My God! I knew you had a low opinion of me, but that low. . .'
'I—I. . .She had no defence. He was right; it hadn't been Justin who had told her he had a stepsister.
A memory of the past flickered in her brain. She had been telling Uncle Bertie what a pity it was that Justin's sister could not come to the wedding, and Uncle Bertie had replied, 'Well, she's not really his sister. His mother died at birth and Justin's father married the girl's mother.' Zoe had automatically assumed that she was his stepsister.
'Enlighten me, Zoe. How do you suffer me to make love to you when it's quite obvious that you despise me?' His hand fell from her chin and he straightened in his seat. 'Stupid question. You love Val, I'll give you that. And if I were you 1 would start praying that the news today is good. Otherwise you'll be crawling on your belly to Jess,'
'Please, Justin, you have to believe me; I never realised Jess was your sister. If I had I would never have been so rude to her, and I don't despise you. It isn't like that.' It was pure jealousy she suffered from, she recognised, but before she could say so Justin stopped her.
'Cut the excuses, Zoe.' His mouth tightened into a grim line. 'We'll see Professor Barnet, and hopefully the news will be good. If not I will personally ask Jess to help. I'll do everything in my power for our son. But, as for the rest, I find it hard to accept a wife who will prostitute herself, however good the reason.'
She rushed into speech. 'But it wasn't—I meant it isn't. . . I never '
'Forget it, Zoe.' Turning to the stewardess, he ordered coffee, adding, 'Anything for you, Zoe?'
'I'll have a cup of coffee,' she said impatiently. How could he be so cool and withdrawn when she was bursting with emotional questions? As soon as the stewardess took the order she began again. 'Justin, you don't understand. . .'
'Please, Zoe, we have a tense morning ahead of us. Leave it. And let's at least try to present a united front to Professor Barnet.'
She clutched Justin's hand as if it were a lifeline as they were ushered into the great man's room and sat side by side on two straight-backed chairs in front of the large oak desk.
'Well, Mr. Gifford, I must say I'm glad to see you.' Professor Barnet smiled from behind his desk. 'Zoe is a strong woman but she was badly in need of some support. And I'm happy to say all the signs are that you are going to be a perfect match for young Val.'
Zoe jumped up; she was laughing and crying at the same time, hugging Justin, hugging the Professor, hugging herself. Justin was a match.
'It's very gratifying, Mr Gifford, and your son is very lucky. There's no reason why he shouldn't eventually make a complete recovery.'
Recovery! The word was music to Zoe's soul as she collapsed back on the chair.
'I didn't want to distress Zoe unduly before, but his chances were extremely limited without the transplant. Oddly enough, statistically one is more likely to get a match from a male donor than a female.' Professor Barnet looked at Justin, a purely masculine smile lighting his keen blue eyes. 'We men are apparently still good for something in these feminist times.'
Zoe ignored the chauvinistic remark and turned back to Justin, her blue eyes swimming with tears of joy and gratitude. She naturally reached for his hand; he curved his own strong hand around hers and squeezed it gently.
'I told you it would be all right,' he said triumphantly, but the relief on his rugged features was plain to see.
'All thanks to you,' she murmured and, unable to contain her delight, their earlier argument on the way there forgotten, she leant forward and brushed her lips against his. For a second he tensed, and she thought he was going to push her away; instead he pulled her from her seat and into his arms, and kissed her—a kiss of fervent hope, a shattering release of tension, and, she prayed, the start of something new.
They were oblivious to the old man behind the desk, until a discreet cough brought them back to their senses.
Hastily Zoe slid back on to her seat, her face a rosy red. But Justin, with admirable self-control and efficiency, said, 'So where do we go from here, Professor Barnet?'
'At your age, after a kiss like that, I would have said bed.' He chuckled delightedly at his own joke and Zoe's rosy face turned scarlet but she could not help joining in the general laughter.
Half an hour later, when Professor Barnet escorted them out of his office, she felt like pinching herself. Val was going to be all right!
She clung to Justin's arm as they walked down the long hospital corridor, her eyes sparkling like jewels, her face more animated than it had been in months. 'I can't wait to tell Val. Do you think we should ring? Do you think we should celebrate?' She babbled on in a cloud of euphoria until suddenly Justin stopped dead.
'Zoe, calm down,' he commanded firmly, and, grasping her shoulders, he turned her around to face him. He stared down at her, his expression deadly serious. 'We will not ring Val and in any case he's far too young to understand. Apart from which there's still a long way to go before he's cured.'
His eyes held hers, and suddenly she realised that he was probably thinking of the operation he himself was going to have to have.