Six of Hearts(105)

Unfortunately, all the stressing out and anxiety takes its toll, and the day before Jay’s court date, I fall ill with the worst flu of my life. And I’m not talking about one of those bad colds that people call a flu. I’m talking about a real flu. The kind that makes every muscle and bone in your body ache, the kind where you’re barely lucid enough to remember your own name, and when people try to talk to you, you’re replying with nothing but fevered gibberish.

Dad organises for a temp to fill in for me, because obviously I’m not going to be of any help in court in my current state. I don’t mind too much, though. Court is usually hours of tedium followed by a few minutes of something interesting. Jay doesn’t hear about my illness until the morning of the trial. I’m lying in bed, wrapped up in blankets and wearing my cosiest pyjamas, when the front door opens and shuts.

Dad left the house about an hour ago, so there’s only one person it could be. Jay’s footsteps sound on the staircase as he makes his way to my room. He knocks on the door first.

“Don’t come in,” I call weakly. “I’m contagious, and you can’t afford to be sick this week.”

“Fuck that, darlin’,” Jay replies, stepping right inside and coming to sit on the edge of my bed. He puts his hand to my forehead to feel my temperature, his face a picture of concern. “Shit, you’re burning up.”

“I know,” I sniffle. “You need to go. Seriously. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you caught this.”

He frowns and takes my clammy hand in his. “I really wanted you to be there today. I feel braver when you’re with me.”

“You’re the bravest person I know, Jay. You’ll do fine. Hopefully I’ll be better in a few days. That way I’ll be there for the verdict.”

Jay ploughs a hand through his hair, and I look him over. He’s wearing a fancy light grey suit, a blue tie, and a white shirt. He looks drop-dead gorgeous.

“You look amazing,” I manage, and his eyes grow warm.

“Thanks, so do you.” He leans in and places a soft kiss to my forehead.

I choke out a weak laugh. “I’ve never looked more amazing, I’m sure.”

“You always look amazing, Matilda,” he says, and then takes his leave.

I don’t have a television in my bedroom, and after spending two hours reading, I become restless. I want to know what’s happening in court. I know the news channels will be covering it, so with great effort I manage to relocate downstairs to the living room. I make a bed out of the couch and lie down. After that ordeal, it takes me another twenty minutes just lying there before I have the energy to find the remote and turn on the TV.

I flick to the main twenty-four-hour news channel and wait for the trial to come up. When it does, the reporter gives a quick rundown of the case, with some footage of Jay arriving at the High Court with Dad. Unlike most people arriving at court who try to avoid the press, Jay flashes a dazzling smile at one of the cameras.

Even his TV smiles make my heart go gaga. My anticipation builds, because after all this time, once this case is over, there’s a chance that Jay and I can finally be together.

Then there’s a clip of Una and Brian arriving, and my anger rises to the surface. If that bitch thinks she can scare me, she’s got another thing coming. I would have loved to see her face when she realised Jay had shown up, that her threatening me didn’t work.

I watch every second of the news channel that day while Michelle pops over at lunch to feed me soup. Later that evening, I go back to bed and conk out, sleeping straight through until the next morning. When I wake up, I feel more refreshed. I stretch out my limbs and glance to the side, startled to see Jay sitting there, his chin resting on his hand.

“Hey,” I whisper. “What time is it?”

“Half-past seven,” he answers. He’s wearing a different suit from yesterday, this one navy, and he looks freshly showered. The scent of his cologne hits me, and I breathe it in deep.

“How did court go yesterday?”

“Uneventful. Today will be more exciting, though.”

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

“Watch the news. You’ll see,” he answers mysteriously.

He doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, he helps me downstairs and makes me breakfast, though all I can manage to get down is some dry toast and a cup of sugary tea. He and Dad leave together, and I’m faced with another day on the couch, mindlessly staring at the television. Despite Jay’s instructions for me to watch the news, I don’t think I can manage more hours of repeated headlines, so I decide to pop on a box set instead.