A Night on the Orient Express by Veronica Henry Read Free Book Online Page B

slightest tremble in Jay’s voice indicated that he might be scared.
    ‘Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, to be precise. I’m in hospital right now. I need blood transfusions, tests, probably chemo . . .’
    ‘Shit. Which hospital?’
    Archie had needed no second telling. Within an hour he was at his friend’s bedside. The doctors worked well and swiftly. Jay was, by all accounts, lucky to have come in when he did.
    His body was no longer making enough healthy red blood cells and platelets and his white cells were unable to protect his body from infection. The condition was about as serious as conditions get. The prognosis wasn’t good, but he was in the best place, with the best doctors. Jay was amazing throughout the whole ordeal. He was brave and optimistic and uncomplaining, without a trace of the bitterness Archie thought he deserved to feel.
    The only thing Jay did that Archie didn’t approve of was to tell his current girlfriend that one night in Thailand he’d slept with another girl.
    ‘You didn’t,’ said Archie. ‘I know you didn’t.’
    ‘Unless she thinks I’ve betrayed her, she won’t leave me.’ Jay was adamant. ‘And I don’t want her to feel she has to stick with me because of this disease. I wouldn’t want to stay with me. It’s tedious. She needs to get out there and find someone else.’
    And of course the girl did leave him, because she felt justified after his confession. And Archie felt he was the only person left who really understood Jay and his fears after that. He watched his friend grow weak and frail through the endless transfusions and chemotherapy, and was amazed at how his spirit was never crushed, how his eyes still danced even when they were heavy with drugs and painkillers.
    For a while, Jay had seemed to bounce back, until just over a month ago. He had started feeling unwell again, and the cough that had been so persistent the first time around had returned. He was tired, too. Jay had insisted he was simply under the weather, and had refused to tell his parents anything was wrong. Archie admired his optimism, but knew there was a point at which optimism became foolishness. He had forcibly marched him to the GP. Jay had been fast-tracked, referred back to the consultant alarmingly quickly.
    Now, Archie felt helpless as he waited for the verdict. The clock seemed to tick painfully slowly. If everything was OK, he would take Jay for a slap-up lunch to celebrate.
    It felt like a lifetime, but it was only ten minutes when Jay emerged from the consultant’s office. His face was white against his shock of dark hair.
    ‘Ok, Archie,’ he said. ‘I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time to tell Mum and Dad.’
    ‘What is it?’ Archie felt a terrible fear squeeze his heart as he looked at his friend.
    ‘I’ve got to have a transplant,’ Jay told him. He gave a tired, sad smile. ‘A bone-marrow transplant. As soon as possible.’
    A week later they were back at the hospital. By some miracle, a match had been found. Jay had deteriorated in the seven days since the news, but his spirits were still indomitable. He made Archie drive him to the hospital in his Morgan. The roof was down and the sun shone on them as they navigated their way through the gingerbread houses that had defined their youth. They passed so many landmarks. The village hall where they had first got drunk on local cider at the Pony Club disco. The fields that hosted the point-to-point where they learned the vagaries of betting, invariably losing. Their favourite pub, the Marlborough Arms, where they had enjoyed illegal lock-ins and games of darts and flirted ferociously with the local girls.
    Archie was terrified. He wanted to tell Jay how much their friendship had meant to him, but he knew that would be admitting defeat, so he offered him an Extra Strong Mint out of the glove compartment instead. They were meeting Jay’s parents at the hospital. Archie was like another son to them, just as Jay was to