For The Sake Of His Child Page 7

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now he’s well and strong again, so perhaps-do you really think-?’ His face was suddenly as full of eagerness as his son’s when something pleased the child. The likeness made Gina smile.

  ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘It might be time to take him back to the specialist and have him assessed for one of these. But, Carson, please don’t pin your hopes on this. Not everyone is suitable. But it’s worth finding out. If it’s going to happen, I’d like it to be while I’m around.’

  ‘He might be able to hear,’ Carson said slowly, ‘and talk-’

  ‘Eventually. He’d have to learn to talk from scratch, like a baby does, only he’ll find it hard because he’s older.

  ‘I was lucky because I learned to talk before I went deaf and that helps a lot. When I started hearing sounds again I could remember what they meant. But Joey hardly had any chance to hear sounds, so he’ll need to learn them all from the beginning before he can start to speak. Joey will need speech therapy and it’ll take time-at least a year, maybe longer.’ She gave him a mischievous look. ‘So you’ll still need to learn that signing, to communicate with him in the meantime.’

  ‘You’re the boss!’

  ‘Give me the details of his specialist and I’ll fix a meeting.’

  ‘All right. I’m in your hands.’ After a moment he added, ‘Perhaps that’s the best place to be.’

  He saw her upstairs and together they looked in on Joey, who was sleeping deeply. When Carson had bid her goodnight he went to his own room, thoughtful.

  His head was full of Gina, but he couldn’t make out which one. There seemed to be so many of her.

  He’d met her first as the sweet, funny, slightly crazy girl who’d dented his car. She’d charmed him, but it had been an hour’s fleeting delight.

  When they’d seen each other again, everything had been different. She’d met Joey in circumstances that had made her condemn Joey’s father, and before Carson’s eyes she’d changed into an avenging fury. The sun she’d briefly shone on him had vanished, replaced by thunder and lightning.

  Now there was another Gina, practically a schoolmarm, telling him that he would do this and that-or else! He grinned slightly at the memory.

  It amazed him that she saw herself as a little brown mouse. Because, of course, she wasn’t a mouse at all. For Joey’s sake she would take on the whole world. She’d taken on Carson Page without trouble, he reflected wryly. He didn’t know how all this was going to end, but deep instinct told him it could end well-although whether only for Joey, or for himself as well, he still wasn’t sure.

  Being Carson Page, he arrived home next day with printed sheets showing signs and finger-spelling.

  ‘I tried to make a start,’ he told Gina. ‘I even practised a couple of letters in my office but my secretary came in and saw me doing it. She gave me the oddest look.’

  ‘Won’t she just assume you’re doing it for your deaf son?’

  ‘She doesn’t know. Nobody does.’ She was silent and he challenged her angrily, ‘Say it!’

  ‘Nobody must know that Carson Page did something less than perfectly,’ she said, angry in her turn.

  His temper flared. He was doing his best, dammit, but she wouldn’t give him any credit. ‘By God, you’re a hard, judgemental woman!’

  He stormed out, not looking where he went, and collided with Joey in the doorway, so hard that the child fell and Carson nearly lost his balance.

  Joey got up quickly and made a sign, folding his hand with the thumb protruding at the top. He touched his chest, circled away and back to his chest.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Carson asked tensely.

  ‘That sign means “sorry”,’ Gina told him.

  ‘But it was my fault.’

  ‘Then tell him that you’re sorry. It’s not a difficult sign.’

  Joey began to apologise again, but Carson seized his hand and stopped him. Slowly he folded his own fingers over, thumb protruding, laid his hand on his chest, made the circular movement. Into Joey’s eyes came a look of total mystification. It hurt Carson to see it. He repeated the sign. Sorry.

  Joey frowned, turning his head slightly on one side. An apology from his father was something he simply didn’t understand.

  ‘Have you never apologised to him before?’ Gina asked.

  Carson could hardly speak. ‘I don’t think-I ever have.’ He was finding Joey’s ‘silence’ agonising.

  At last the silence was broken. A happy smile broke over the child’s face. He touched his father’s hand, stilling it as Carson had stilled his. It’s all right.

  Carson drew a long breath. Something had just happened that had shaken him. If you blinked you might have missed it, but it was like a volcano inside. For a moment the roles had been reversed, and the little boy had been the adult, reassuring him that they would manage somehow.

  But then, before his eyes, his son withdrew from him. The unfamiliar intimacy had embarrassed him, and he became an ordinary little boy.

  ‘Let’s have supper,’ Gina said, reading the situation without trouble.

  Joey’s attention had been caught by the papers with the finger alphabet. He looked at them, then at his father, his eyebrows slightly raised in a query.

  ‘Why don’t you tell him that you’re learning?’ Gina asked.

  ‘I don’t know the signs for that yet.’

  ‘Try saying it. He’s good at lip-reading. Put yourself where he can see your mouth, and speak clearly.’

  Carson positioned himself, his face on a level with Joey’s. ‘I’m learning signs, so that we can talk.’

  Joey frowned. He hadn’t quite caught it.

  ‘Slower,’ Gina advised.

  This time they did better. Joey opened his hand, fingers together, thumb apart, and touched his chin once.

  ‘That means “good”,’ Gina said. ‘You do it. It’s quite easy.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ he said with a faint grin. He signed, Good.

  ‘Haven’t you spoken to him in the past?’ she asked as they laid the table.

  ‘I’ve tried, but he never seemed to understand me.’

  ‘Maybe you weren’t trying hard enough.’

  ‘You sound like a schoolmistress,’ he grumbled. ‘Yes, miss. Will try harder.’

  ‘See that you do,’ she told him with mock severity.

  ‘And when he did follow what I was saying he tried to answer and-I don’t know.’

  ‘He made those sounds that you can’t bear to hear,’ she finished remorselessly.

  He took a deep breath. ‘You really sock it to a man right between the eyes, don’t you?’

  ‘No point in any other way. Are you going to give up?’

  ‘I didn’t get where I am today by giving up.’

  ‘And where are you today, Carson?’ she asked coolly.

  He was about to lecture her about Page Engineering and its place in the commercial world, but stopped himself in time. Of course, she wasn’t talking about that.

  Nothing that he’d done impressed her, he realised. His glittering achievements were as nothing beside his failure with his son.

  Joey’s pleasure in his father’s efforts led to him being a little carried away. Over the meal he tried to talk to him, spelling, making signs, and going too fast for Carson to follow.

  ‘Slow down,’ Carson begged at last. ‘I’m only a beginner.’

  Joey nodded and repeated the sign he was demonstrating. It was complex, and Carson got it wrong. Frowning, he tried again, making a sound of impatience when it eluded him. He wasn’t used to not being able to do things well. Then Joey laid a hand over his father’s and gently moved the fingers into the right position.

  ‘Thank you,’ Carson said, in words. Joey frowned, watching his mouth. ‘Thank you,’ Carson repeated.

  Understanding dawned. Joey flattened his hand, touched his chin with it, moved it away. He was watching Carson closely to see if he followed this. Carson looked at Gi
na, but she wouldn’t help him.

  ‘Does that mean-“thank you”?’ he asked uncertainly. She nodded, pleased.

  She was glad to slip into the background while father and son made the first tentative steps to knowing each other better. It went well, and by the time they both put him to bed she knew that Carson was feeling happier.

  Later that night, as they parted outside her door, Carson said, ‘What was that sign Joey made you the first night-when he said he liked you?’

  Gina formed her hand into the Y shape.

  ‘This means “like”. You do the rest by pointing at yourself and the other person.’

  He tried it, and managed the shape.

  ‘That’s it,’ she encouraged.

  He pointed at himself, formed the Y, then pointed at her.

  ‘You’ve got it.’ Gina made the gesture back. ‘I-like-you.’

  He did it again, saying, ‘I-like-you.’

  Then something seemed to strike him, making him uneasy. He said, ‘Goodnight,’ hurriedly, and walked off.

  CHAPTER SIX

  G INA prepared the ground carefully for everything she had to say to Joey, waiting for exactly the right moment to present itself. In the end Joey made the moment happen with a practical joke.

  Walking through the door of his room, one evening, she was pulled up short by a stream of cold water over her. He’d put a vase on top of the door.

  ‘Joey!’ That was Carson, just behind her, outraged on her behalf.

  Gina silenced him with a swift gesture. The little boy was doubled up with laughter at the success of his antics, and she joined him, seizing him up in a ruthless embrace and swinging him around.

  ‘Wretch!’ she said. ‘Horrible little wretch!’

  Rightly understanding this as a term of affection, Joey laughed harder than ever.

  ‘It’s a bit unkind, after all you’ve done for him,’ Carson grumbled, picking up the vase.

  ‘It’s a joke,’ Gina protested. ‘He’s a little boy. Little boys make jokes. But look, darling-’

  Carson’s spine prickled, then he realised that ‘darling’ had been addressed to Joey.

  ‘Look, darling, next time-’

  ‘Next time?’ Carson demanded.

  ‘Hush! Next time, don’t use water. Look.’ She showed him the speech processor that was attached to her implant. ‘That’s what I use so that I can hear. It mustn’t get wet or it won’t work any more.’

  It was amazing how quickly Joey was transformed from a little boy to a serious person dealing with something he understood.

  Hearing aid, he signed.

  ‘No, it’s much more than that. A hearing aid is for people who can hear a little, and it makes it louder. This is for people who are completely deaf-like us.’

  At the word ‘us’, Joey raised his head and stared at her. At the start, Gina had told him she was deaf, but she could so obviously hear that he’d vaguely assumed she was talking about the past. His father watched him with bated breath.

  But you’re not deaf any more?

  ‘Yes, I am. I’m as deaf as you. But with this-’ she touched it ‘-I can hear.’

  He grew agitated. Did I damage it?

  ‘No, I was lucky. The water didn’t touch it. And if it was wet I could always get another. But no more vases of water.’

  He shook his head vigorously. Promise.

  Then he frowned again and looked wistfully at the device. Can I have one?

  ‘We could find out.’

  Yes, please. Joey’s eyes were shining. To him this was a dream come true. How well she knew that feeling! She held him tightly, praying that his dreams really would come true.

  ‘Have you contacted the specialist yet?’ Carson asked.

  ‘I wrote to him today.’

  ‘Wouldn’t a phone call be quicker?’

  ‘I don’t always find telephones easy. Sometimes it’s unavoidable and it’s not too bad with someone whose voice I’ve heard before. But with strangers it’s often easier to write. When I’m in the office Dulcie helps me out.’

  ‘How did you manage that time with Brenda?’

  ‘Funnily enough, I had no problems with her. Some voices are like that.’

  She received the answer the next day. Setting up the appointment was the easy part. The hard part was explaining to Joey the number of people who must assess him before he was declared suitable. She told him that it would take several days of hard work, that he might find tiring. He nodded and shrugged to show that he regarded this as no big deal. He was like a small determined scientist, intent on getting an experiment right.

  Carson came with them to the hospital. It was obvious to Gina that he was far more nervous than his son. Joey was excited but happy. He seemed to have no doubts about the outcome of his assessment, and he was proved right. The operation was set for two days ahead.

  On the morning he was due to go into the hospital Joey was in high spirits, demanding that Gina should tell him her own story.

  ‘But I’ve told you a dozen times,’ she protested.

  Again, please. He had a way of signing ‘please’ with great vigour, which exactly captured the quality of a child’s imploring voice. She smiled and began a story that seemed to delight him more every time he heard it.

  ‘I could hear until I was about your age. Then I had a very bad fever and, when I recovered, I was completely deaf. They didn’t have cochlear implants in those days, so I stayed as I was for ten years.

  ‘During that time they were developed, and at last it happened. I had the operation that you’ll have tomorrow, and then I had to wait four weeks for it to heal before they could attach the speech processor to the outside.’

  Four whole weeks!

  She smiled tenderly. ‘It’ll pass, darling.’

  She went into the hospital with him that evening, staying in a connected room. Carson came later on that evening and found them watching television, reading the subtitles and giggling at a comedian. Joey was eating a hearty supper which seemed to consist mainly of ice cream.

  ‘He can’t have anything after midnight tonight,’ Gina explained. ‘So he’s making the most of it.’

  She slipped away to let them be alone together. Carson’s signing had greatly improved, and he could cope with a basic conversation now, if only he could think of what to say to his son.

  He emerged in half an hour. ‘The nurse told him it was time for bed. He says he can’t sleep until you’re there.’

  ‘I’ll go right along. There’s plenty for you to eat at home-’

  ‘No need; I’m going back to work. I’ll get a snack. Call me tomorrow when he’s out of surgery.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘You’d better go to Joey. He’s getting impatient.’

  He strode off down the corridor and pushed through the swing doors without looking back. Gina was left with a little desolate ache in her heart. It was plain that Carson wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. His whole air since he’d arrived had been tense and unhappy.

  Of course, some men just disliked hospitals. But that was no use to Joey, she thought, hardening her heart. Why did Carson have to disappoint her just now, when she’d begun to think-that was, to hope-?

  She pulled herself together and returned to Joey’s room.

  Next morning found him calm and happy. He smiled as he was given his premedication, and gave her a drowsy wave as he was wheeled away.

  There was nothing she could do but wait, and the hours that stretched ahead seemed endless. She thought of Carson attending meetings, giving orders, increasing his profits, imagining that he’d done all that was needed because he’d bought his son the best treatment in the best hospital. She almost hated him.

  ‘Gina,’ said a quiet voice.

  Carson was standing in the door of her room. His face was very pale and there were shadows under his eyes.

  ‘Can I come in here?’ he asked tentatively. ‘Is it all right?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ />
  ‘Is there any news?’

  ‘No, he’s still in surgery. You don’t look very well yourself.’

  He sat heavily beside her on the sofa. ‘I’ve felt better. I had to leave work; I was useless. I couldn’t concentrate. Simmons, my deputy, kept droning on about something or other and asking how I intended to resolve the problem. I couldn’t even remember what the problem was.’

  ‘Couldn’t you?’ she asked tenderly. Inside her a well spring of happiness had shot up.

  ‘It seemed so unimportant. Why were they going on about nothing, while my son…?’

  His hands were shaking. Gina enclosed them in both of hers and he held onto her so tightly that it was painful.

  ‘In the end I told Simmons to do whatever he damned well pleased, because I was leaving. They all looked at me as though I was crazy.’

  ‘Good for you!’ she said softly.

  He gave a shaky laugh. ‘I think that must be the first word of approval you’ve ever given me.’

  ‘Well, you deserved it.’

  ‘I couldn’t bear being in this place yesterday evening. It all matters so much-it’s his one big chance-his whole life-everything. I want to give him the world but-the one thing that counts-just you- I’m talking gibberish, aren’t I?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m good at filling in the gaps.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Thank God for you! I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about you-and him-seeing the night out in this place, and being so brave. And all I did was run. I told myself that you were both better off without me, and it’s true-’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ she said softly. ‘Joey clings to me a little more because I’ve been through this, but you’re his father. I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Are you? Honestly?’

  ‘Honestly.’ She winced.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘My hands. You’re crushing them.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He began to rub her hands between his own. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘A bit. Give them a little more.’ It felt good to have her slight hands enveloped in his large ones. They were powerful hands, almost predatory, and in business she supposed he was a predator. But now he was merely a vulnerable father, seeking comfort and also giving it.