Lucy Gordon - For The Sake Of His Child

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?’