Free The Brilliant Light of Amber Sunrise by Matthew Crow Page A

I saw her stop in her tracks, and Jackie must have seen her too, because the next thing I saw was her giving Mum a hug and leading her out toward the nurses’ station.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Amber arrived on the fourth day, and from then on everything changed for me.
    Paul had been sick for two nights in a row. It was like a conspiracy. Throughout the day he would just sit ­quietly, wincing whenever he moved and the tube he’d had inserted in his nose snagged on his nostril. Then at night it sounded like a pack of rabid dogs had taken up residence in his bed. Marc kept coming in to help him, but all night I could hear retching and the sound of liquids being sloshed about. Every once in a while it would seem like he’d settled. Then, just as I could feel myself nodding back to sleep, it would start again.
    â€œYou’re all right. Be strong, lad,” I could hear Marc whisper as Paul groaned some more.
    â€œSleep is vital to recovery,” I told Mum. “If I can’t sleep, then the whole thing is pointless. Can’t I get a private room? I think I’d handle this much better on my own.”
    â€œNice to see your old spirit’s intact,” Grandma said,chewing on one of the grapes she had brought for me, which she had monopolized and didn’t seem to be in the mood to share.
    â€œFiona sent you this,” Chris said, pulling out a men’s magazine. She’d taped a photograph of herself, giving two thumbs up, onto the model’s face. “She says she’ll come and visit you as soon as she’s back from her shoot in Milan.”
    â€œI think she could be a model,” I said.
    â€œYou don’t say?”
    Mum took the magazine and tucked it into the farthest corner of the drawer.
    â€œSome things never change . . . sadly ,” she said, and poured herself a glass of sports drink. I cleared my throat and nodded toward the level in the bottle.
    â€œBloody hell, Francis, I’ll buy you a crate of the stuff if you want. Anyway it hasn’t been touched since I was last here.”
    That was not the point.
    â€œOh,” she said, pulling something from her bag, “this came from school.”
    It was a card with two dozen names and get well messages scrawled inside. On the front was a picture of a teddy bear with a bandage on its head.
    â€œCute, eh? Is that from your little friends?” Grandma asked, taking the card and inspecting the photograph on the front.
    â€œOoh,” she said, handing it back to Mum. “They left the price on.”
    â€œDo you want me to put it up?” Mum asked.
    â€œNo,” I said. The picture was crass and juvenile, and would have been at odds with the impressive array of literature I had on display. It would ruin my reputation as the ward’s sophisticate.
    â€œFine. I’ll put it in the drawer with the porno and the iPod. How you getting on, you know ?”
    Mum whispered something in my ear, nodding to the beds across from us where Paul and Kelly were pretending not to listen.
    I shrugged.
    â€œOkay, I suppose. I think I’m misunderstood, though, like van Gogh was.”
    Grandma made a joke about not cutting off my ear, which did not get much of a response.
    â€œYou’re looking okay on it,” Mum said, stroking my face, “brave lad. House isn’t the same without you. I keep cooking for two, so at least your brother’s doing all right off it.”
    â€œHave you remembered to record all of my programs?” I asked.
    There was a TV on a giant, bendy metal arm that you could pull down and watch while lying down, but I was scared to use the remote as it was the same one as for the bed, and as a result had taken to reading.
    â€œYes, love, I got your list,” Mum said with a hint of ­sarcasm.
    â€œThe rec room’s pretty fancy,” Chris added. “I had a look around while Mum was having a chat with Jackie. We can go down later on if you’re