Читать книгу The Playboy Doctor's Proposal - Алисон Робертс - Страница 8

‘SHH, now, Felixx!’

‘Hush, OK?’

‘Silence. We have to have silence for Alanya to get well.’

For days this was all he’d heard, it seemed to Felixx. He crept around on the edge of Alanya’s illness, too scared to ask how bad she was, shut away from seeing her except for one or two short visits to the wellness shelter each day, during which he knew he had to be silent or she wouldn’t get better fast enough.

Sometimes he asked people, ‘How’s Mummy?’ He liked to call her Mummy because that’s who she was. She always wanted him to call her Alanya, because that was her spirit name, but as she couldn’t hear him right now, he said ‘Mummy’ and it helped a little bit.

The silence helped, too. He had to stay as quiet as anything, or she might not get well. He knew that, but it was so hard. The fish on his sneaker helped. Mummy had drawn it with his felt pens. Mostly the bright orange one. She’d done it the day he’d showed her the hole.

‘We can’t afford a new shoe just yet,’ she’d said. ‘So let’s make it special. The hole can be his eye, see?’

He could poke his finger in the hole. In and out. It was tight at first but now it was easy. His finger went in and out.

In and out.

It helped him to stay quiet. To stop the questions he so badly wanted to ask, like, ‘Mummy…Alanya…are you feeling better? Do you need more medicine?’

She didn’t seem to be eating very much. They gave her carrot juice to drink, to drain the toxins from her system. How long did toxins take to drain?

Where did they come out?

He was too scared to ask any of these questions, but he listened more than the healing sisters thought. He heard words like ‘worried’ and ‘taking too long’ and after this he stayed even quieter, stopped even asking, ‘How’s Mummy?’ in case his talking, even outside the healing shelter, was the thing stopping her from getting well.

Late one night…he couldn’t remember, maybe the sixth or seventh night of her illness…he couldn’t sleep, and crept over to the healing shelter because there was light coming from its windows. It was cold and his feet were bare and he didn’t dare go inside, but he listened underneath the window and heard more words. ‘Getting worse’ and ‘I don’t know’ and ‘ambulance’.

After this, everything got so confusing, when he thought about it he couldn’t think the way it had gone. He fell asleep on the couch on the veranda of the healing shelter, and a big car came with red lights. He hid under the blanket in case he got in trouble for being there. He heard men’s voices. ‘Too late’ and ‘useless’ and ‘bloody quack treatments’. Someone found him—Raina, one of the healing sisters—and he pretended to be asleep and she carried him gently in her arms to his bed, and by the time he got there he must have really been asleep because he didn’t remember anything else until morning.

Then there were more words—’ very peaceful’ and ‘gone away on the most wonderful journey’—but he was so good, he didn’t say anything himself in case it made Mummy…better call her Alanya…in case it made her worse. A lot of boring time went by. He wasn’t allowed to see her at all. He had some meals, breakfast and lunch. Were they saying it was Alanya who had gone on the wonderful journey? When was she coming back? He didn’t want to ask because that would not have been hushing and staying silent.

Raina sat him down and hugged him and kissed his forehead and told him, ‘Your auntie Janey is going to come and get you, sweetheart.’

He didn’t know he had an auntie Janey. He wanted to ask who she was and when she was coming but he was so, so good, he stayed quiet and silent and hushed and didn’t say a word.