One Hour to Midnight Read Online Free PDF

I remember."
    "And neither are you dead, my friend."
    A rough laugh escaped as Leon shook his head. Since he'd clapped eyes on Veronica in that bar, he was far too aware he wasn't dead and neither was his libido.  
     
    ~***~
     
    Veronica greeted they grey dawn with something verging on relief.
    She'd spent the night alternating between tossing and turning, and dozing off, only to wake in the grip of strange over-the-top dreams. Dreams in which Leon and sex figured far too prominently.  
    Hot monkey sex. Damn Tania.
    She dragged herself out of bed, stumbled into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. While she waited for it to heat, she stared out the window into the garden that was taking on form in the strengthening daylight. She rubbed the heel of her hand against gritty eyes.
    But the ache didn't diminish.
    The ache for her baby vied with the ache of her unrequited longing for Leon.  
    Just as the kettle came to the boil, a knock sounded on the front door.
    She grimaced. It didn't take a genius to know who'd be knocking on her door at dawn. With a fatalistic sigh, she opened the door to Kathleen. Even this early in the morning, the older woman never had an iron grey hair out of place. A bakery bag dangled from one hand.
    "Veronica?"
    Suddenly the tears she'd vowed not to shed were streaming down her face.
    With a muttered oath, Kathleen shoved the bakery bag on the hall table and swept Veronica into her arms.
    She buried her head against Kathleen's sturdy shoulder and sucked in a shuddering breath, her senses filled with the familiar scents of peppermint overlaid with a faint trace of mothballs.
    With a superhuman effort she managed to control her tears.  
    "What did that bastard want?" Kathleen gripped her shoulders and held her away so she could look into her face.
    "Don't, please," Veronica whispered as she pulled away rubbing at her eyes. "It's Jordan, he has leukaemia."
    "Oh hell." Kathleen gave her a tight hug and then briskly put her to one side. "First things first. You need breakfast." She picked up the bakery bag and strode through to the kitchen. "Good the kettle's hot."
    A weak laugh escaped Veronica. Kathleen never changed and in short order tea and croissants were spread on the table in the breakfast nook. Kathleen raided the fridge for Marmite and apricot jam. "Come and have breakfast. Not another word until you've eaten."
    The delectable smell of freshly baked croissants made Veronica's stomach grumble. When had she last eaten?
    Without a moment's hesitation she sat down and tucked in. When she'd devoured the last morsel of croissant slathered with apricot jam, she looked up at Kathleen. "Thank you, I needed that."
    The older woman's lips curved in a faint smile. "That much about you hasn't changed, Ricki. When you're upset you forget to eat."
    "It's Veronica."
    "Is it?" Kathleen watched her, head on one side. "Give it away, Ricki. Now tell me, all of it."
    And that quickly, the oppressive weight of guilt and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her. She fiddled with the spoon on her saucer.   "Jordan has leukaemia. Leon wants me to be tested as a possible bone marrow donor."
    "I'm sorry to hear that. He wants you to go to Melbourne?"
    Veronica nodded and spread her hands in a helpless gesture and Kathleen scowled. "You can easily have those tests done here."
    "I know and I've already arranged for the initial blood tests to be done later this morning. They take time and Jordan's condition is critical." She bent her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair. "But if I'm compatible, I'll need to travel to Melbourne for further tests and the procedure."
    She glanced up at Kathleen, and then wished she hadn't. This woman knew her too well.
    "Are you sure that's all it is?" Kathleen leaned across the table and caught her restless hand, holding it tightly.  
    Startled, she glanced up at the older woman. "What else could it be?"
    Kathleen shook her head, her expression resigned. "You've never got