Live, Love, Lose - 34. Chapter 34

Karl was sure he had never slept so much in his entire life. He wasn’t used to falling asleep as long as it was still daylight. Of course, he had already had the occasion to nap as a child in the early afternoon between two chores (especially on hot days), like every child he guessed, but that’s all.

But nothing had been the same ever since he had left home.

He finally left the hospital room in the late afternoon. He wasn’t going to monopolise a hospital room, let alone a bed any longer when some people certainly needed it much more than he did.

As he was wandering alone in the seemingly endless corridors, there was a woman that appeared in his way. He wanted to move aside so she could keep moving forward without having to do it herself. But she stopped as soon as their gazes met. Being intrigued as he was, he stopped too, and so they just remained standing still, staring at each other silently. It was kind of unsettling, but it’s not as if she was going to do anything to him, right?

The woman was rather beautiful, must have been in her late thirties, had wavy dark brown hair that reached past her shoulders, piercing green eyes, thin eyebrows, lips that were rather thick…and that same nose…he couldn’t be mistaken. He froze in his spot. She looked just like George. It was stunning in a way.

The sudden shock and stupor that had been written all over her own face after she had laid her eyes on him suddenly (and unexpectedly) turned into happiness. She showed her perfect white teeth as the dazzling smile was even more stunning, and suddenly she pounced on him before engulfing him into a tight hug, making the boy feel uncomfortable in her hold.

“Thank you,” she suddenly said, her voice ready to break, “thank you so much for saving my son. Thank you…thank you…thank you…” Her grip on him tightened as she kept repeating the two words. She was squeezing him so much that she was practically stifling him. But he didn’t say anything to tell her to stop. They remained in that position for what seemed to be endless hours, even though in reality it must have only lasted a few minutes at most. She eventually released her grip on him and stared straight into his passive eyes once again, the look on her face being a mix of relief and slight dread. He couldn’t help feeling sympathetic towards her.

“Thank you. Really.”

Her words couldn’t have been more genuine.

“He is my most precious and greatest treasure, you know…I don’t know what I would have done had I lost him. I already lost his father long ago…and I couldn’t have borne to lose him too…”

She looked utterly distressed and helpless as she spoke those words. There was no doubt about it. She definitely was George’s mother. But she didn’t need to thank him endlessly. He hadn’t done that much. He had only given some of his blood and hadn’t even thought twice about doing it. He had done it for Paul, Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins. That’s all.

He just didn’t know what to say to her, something that seemed to have become a habit ever since he had arrived in London. And maybe not such a good one…

“But I feel words will never be enough to express how grateful I am that you saved my precious little baby. No…actually there’s nothing I could do in return that could be equal to what you did…”

Why was she looking even more distressed and saddened? A beautiful smile was all he wanted to see on her face. It would look so much better on her.

But there was still no word that could come out of his mouth. It’s as if he was totally paralysed.

She suddenly let out a low chuckle as she glanced away, putting one hand over her mouth as her upper body slightly leaned forward.

“Sorry…you must think I’m some kind of madwoman. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so happy that my son is out of danger! So much so that I didn’t even introduce myself. My name’s Eleanor. But I don’t think you need to know my last name.”

Ele-euh-neee…

Never had he thought he would have met his mother in such circumstances…let alone that he would meet her at all.

“I know I should be staying by his side. But I couldn’t wait to meet his saviour.”

Sav—

“Please, accept my invitation for dinner tomorrow evening. That’s the least I can do to thank you.”

Dinner…?

“Please…” she begged. “It will be nice, I promise.”

He wasn’t sure he really wanted to have dinner with her…not that it was against her. But all he was feeling like doing was go back to the Hopkins’s house, sit on the bed that used to be Paul’s, just doing nothing.

“Please…” she insisted once again as she took his hands in hers. How could he say no to her begging face? She had almost lost her son. The least he could do was to have that dinner with her.

“Okay,” he merely said as he stared into her piercing green eyes. That was the only difference he could note between her and George. The difference in eye color. Brown versus green. Brown like Paul’s and Mr. Hopkins’s.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he was being hugged tightly again. After a while, she let go of him once again.

“I’m really glad to know my son has a friend like you. This kind of friendship is the most valuable that you can find,” her voice was sweet, much sweeter than any other voice he had ever heard. It was like velvet.

Friend…that word again…but George didn’t consider him as his friend, never had. And if he did, he must have been hiding it really well…since he had never stated it out loud as Paul had. He knew absolutely nothing about him except that he wanted to become a doctor.

“I’m not his friend.”

He didn’t consider him as his friend either for that matter. The moments they had spent together…this wasn’t enough. For him, they hadn’t behaved as friends should have. And it was even hard for him to tell how friends should be with each other since he had never had a real friend. Except for Paul who considered him as such. But that’s definitely not what they were, him and George. Not that it made him sad. It was just an assessment of the situation.

She looked utterly shocked by his words, much more shocked than the Doctor after he had told him the same thing. She looked upset. Saddened, once again, and he was feeling bad now because of this. He had only meant to be honest, not to make her lose her smile.

“Sorry…” he uttered, not sure of what he should say after that.

“No, no; it’s fine! Don’t worry,” she made a gesture with her hand to emphasise her words. “I just…” she trailed off with uncertainty. She looked like she couldn’t find the right words. “It’s just surprising that you saved him. But whatever. I am no less thankful for what you did. I will never forget it. And I would be really surprised if the two of you didn’t become friends after what happened.”

For what seemed to be the millionth time, what could he possibly reply to that?

It scared him how unable he was to interact with people, even without speaking of the obstacle of the foreign language. It was really scary. He didn’t like staying like this, speechless, tight as a clam, looking like a total moron who didn’t know how to speak. Staring at people with no particular facial expression on his face, like a kind of creep. He could have been sold into a circus and easily become a freak.

What would his parents be thinking of him if they could see him?

Nothing good for sure.

“Well, I’m not going to hold you back any longer. You must be eager to go back to the Hopkins’s house. A hospital is not really the kind of place you usually enjoy staying in. Unless you are a doctor or a nurse.”

Neeuuuhhhssss….

Was it like a kind of doctor?

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” The smile she offered him was wide and genuine, and her voice still sweet. She brought one hand to his cheek and her fingers brushed against the skin ever so slightly. It was like a light breeze caressing your skin during a particularly hot summer day.

Then she turned and walked away from him. He kept watching her until she was out of sight. He looked down thoughtfully. There was something he couldn’t really understand and that was really intriguing…

Why had George left his mother to go and live with the Hopkins family? As kind and generous as they were. His mother seemed to be a good person. So why?

Who were they for him exactly?

***

She fetched him the following evening before it got too late. It was mostly silent as they took the most rapid way to get to her house. Whenever their gazes met, she gave him a warm smile, and he smiled back. It made it seem longer than it actually was. It’s not as if it only took them five minutes to get there.

“Just make yourself at home, okay?” She told him as soon as they had entered the house. “I’m going to finish preparing everything for dinner.”

He would have felt like going with her to help, but he was sure she wouldn’t have allowed him to do anything, so he just nodded as a response. She smiled at him before she walked away with a light gait.

He explored the house a bit while she was busy in the kitchen, but not upstairs. He ended with the living room, which was, without doubt, the most interesting part of the ground floor in any house. It wasn’t as big as that of the Hopkins’s, but it was still nice, sober.

On one chest of drawers, there was a particular photograph that caught his attention, for the second time in the last few days. He stopped before it and took it so he could examine it more closely. Just like in the photograph he had found in Mr. Hopkins’s office, it was a young boy. But he looked nothing like the two boys he had guessed were Mr. Hopkins himself and his brother. It was actually George, but he must have been around 8 or 9 years old on this. He hadn’t changed at all, but his traits still made him somehow look different. It seemed that his face had been damaged by all the pain he had had to endure through the years whereas as a child there was this angelic innocence that was still preserved, frozen in time thanks to this still.

He wasn’t wearing glasses, and his eyes looked kind of dull as if he hadn’t wanted to be there, to be photographed. Children generally preferred to play, exert themselves rather than having to sit still like a statue. They weren’t like adults who were old enough to have forgotten about what carelessness was like. They were unable to stand still. He was sitting down with his hands on his lap with a straight posture, and you could have thought he would have been scolded had he been sitting in one that wasn’t appropriate. He was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and dark shorts, which looked unusual as he had only seen him wearing a pair of trousers. His hair was longer, and not styled exactly in the same way as he had already seen it, but it was still done neatly. It was parted on the right side of his head, straight like a bit of rope that would be stretched, so unlike his own.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” He flinched slightly at the familiar but unexpected voice.

He hadn’t even heard her approach him. He put the photograph back in its place and they locked eyes.

“Yeah.”

What else could have he said?

The big grin she gave him showed how much she was satisfied with his answer.

“He was always so merry and sweet as a child, the sweetest child anyone had ever met. The kind of child who is every mother’s dream. But then he met that older boy…and he changed with time…he had a very bad influence on him…”

That boy he met…he was his best friend, right? If not, he didn’t understand well, then.

She took the photograph and held it with a firm grip, staring at her son as if the outside world didn’t matter any longer. He just observed her in silence as she didn’t speak for a while, looking deep in thought.

“I just wanted the best for him. I’d never thought he…” she trailed off, ready to break down. That feeling was back once again deep into his gut, and he really hated it; it was awful. He just couldn’t do anything to make it disappear.

Pretty quickly, tears started rolling down her pale cheeks. And this only intensified the feeling.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was already hugging her. His body just moved on its own. He just wanted her to stop being all sad and crying. He just wanted that feeling to go away and leave him alone. Was it too much to ask for?

She didn’t hesitate to hug him back and held him so tight that she was practically stifling him once again, as if she let go of him she would drown or something like that. But it didn’t really matter at that moment. He could feel her body shake badly, uncontrollably. And he instinctively hugged her more tightly. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt like the only right thing to do.

It just seemed to be endless, and it made him really uncomfortable. Why couldn’t she just stop?

He let her discharge all of her sorrow in his arms, no matter how long it would last, and no matter how much it made his stomach hurt. She definitely needed it. He could feel it. She calmed down after a while as she let go of him, putting the photograph on the piece of furniture before she rubbed her face with her hands.

“I’m sorry…I should be happy that he’s still alive, but…” she let out a heavy sigh. “…I just can’t help thinking had I been a better mother this would have never happened…”

Being a parent mustn't have been easy...he guessed so

“You must think I’m truly pathetic…Wallowing in self-pity won’t help. Yes, I’ve been a terrible mother; but I’m going to change from now onwards. I’m not going to keep repeating the same mistakes several times. I want to be there for him. I know he really loves his uncle and cousin, as well as his aunt, and that he really enjoys their company, but it’s time for him to go back home with us. There will be no more reasons for him to leave home. I will make sure that there will not be any more tensions. Everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.”

She looked really anxious. Almost desperate. And it was still making him quite uncomfortable.

“But you’ll still be able to come home to see him! I want this home to be your second home too.”

“I’m home,” a male voice suddenly called as he heard the door being closed. One he had never heard before. It distracted her from all of her anxiousness, sorrow, and fear. Soon a man was near them, and she offered him a wide and sweet smile.

“It’s good to see you again,” she immediately embraced him. “I’ve missed you…”

He hugged her back eagerly and held her tightly in a protective way.

Was he—

“I’ve missed you too, so much.”

…George’s father?

Once they let go of each other, the man looked at him.

“This is Carl,” …what was her name again…Elenaor…was it? Anyway. “You know, the boy who gave his blood to save George’s life. And he’s staying with us for dinner tonight.”

The man observed him carefully, and he did the same with him. He had dark brown straight hair that was neatly styled similarly to George’s and piercing blue eyes.

Obviously, he didn’t look like George at all, but if he was the spitting image of his mother, he couldn’t look like his father, logically.

“Oh, yes, right. It’s really nice to meet you, Carl. I’m Stephen. Stephen Richardson. But just call me Stephen.”

He extended his open hand towards him as his face was brightened up by a big smile. He stared at it thoughtfully. He still couldn’t help wondering why George would deliberately leave his parents to live with the Hopkins. They were both quite charming.

“Nice to meet you too,” he said as they finally shook hands.

“Well, you must be hungry. So let’s sit down for dinner, shall we?” The woman said enthusiastically, joining her hands.

“Yes, that’s a very nice suggestion,” the man, Steven, said still with a big smile plastered on his face.

“I’m going to tell Jojo that dinner is ready, I’ll be back in a minute,” she then added as her head brushed against his shoulder.

“That works!”

Wait.

Yes, George was the spitting image of his mother. This couldn’t be denied. But his mother had green eyes and his were brown. Yes, brown. Like those of Mr. Hopkins and Paul.

So this couldn’t be denied either. They were necessarily related. Why else would he leave his mother to live with them?

There was a sudden realization that dawned on him.

The photograph of George as a little boy. It made him remember the photograph of Mr. Hopkins. The two little boys that looked so much alike. And those brown eyes. And the fact that they were all so close…

One of the little boys in the photographs was actually George’s father…It couldn’t be otherwise. But it should have been him instead of that man with blue eyes. So this meant—

“Come, let’s go to the dining room and sit down. They’ll join us quickly,” said man distracted him as he put one hand on his back.

He walked a bit mechanically, troubled by the brainwave he had just had.

“Just sit wherever you want.”

He just sat on the first chair his gaze landed on, still mechanically. The man — Steven — sat down in front of him.

“So…tell me more about you. I mean I didn’t expect the Hopkins to take in a young boy that they had never met before they did.”

He wasn’t really listening to him. He just could hear the sound of his voice but didn’t pay any particular attention to his words. He didn’t want to look rude. But he wasn’t really in the mood for any kind of conversation at that moment. It really wasn’t against him.

He heard footsteps approach. He turned his head to see George’s mother and a little boy. Wait. It was the boy who had come a few weeks earlier and had asked him to give that letter to George. That boy with blue eyes. But he didn’t look at all like George’s mother, unlike George. But most of his facial features were similar to the man — Steven — and the same blue eyes.

“Carl, let me introduce my son to you. This is our son, Joseph, but we just call him ‘Jojo’.”

Jojo…

The boy was looking just like he had looked the first time they had met. Surprised, and anxious, saddened. Neither of them said a word. They just contemplated each other in silence.

“Jojo, don’t be so rude. Say ‘hello’ to him,” his mother scolded him for it.

Just like himself, he didn’t seem to feel like saying anything at all.

“Hello,” he finally said after a little while. Karl just nodded at him with a smile, the best one he could manage to offer him.

“Why don’t we start serving dinner? Everything becomes so much easier with a good meal,” The man said, his positivity and smile being the only thing that prevented the silent tension to gain ground.

“Yes, absolutely!” George’s mother agreed. “Come, sweetie.”

She had him sit next to him, while she sat down next to her husband. The meal was alright. But the silent tension was still there. Even though both George’s mother and her husband pretended it wasn’t. Carl noticed how Jojo barely ate anything. He reminded him of George. And that feeling was back once again. It wouldn’t stop.

“Is the food alright? I’m sorry, I’m not such a good cook…but I always try to do my best with it.”

His impassive blue eyes met her soft green eyes. The food wasn’t as good as what Mrs. Hopkins made, but he still considered it as such.

“The food is good,” he meant it, even though it may have not sounded as if he did.

She observed him silently for a few seconds before she chuckled.

“You don’t have to behave so formally and be polite just to please me. I won’t mind if you say you don’t like it. It’s fine, really. I won’t be mad at you for it, I swear!”

He didn’t reply or react at all.

“Well, I bet you don’t want to get back at the Hopkins’ house too late. You just left the hospital yesterday after all. I understand you’d like to have some time for yourself after what happened. We’re not going to keep you waiting much longer.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“Just let me clear the table, and then we’ll go.”

“No, it’s fine, honey, take him back there. I’ll be doing the chores tonight. “

The tone of his voice was loving, gentle.

“Oh thanks, that’s really nice of you. But you don’t have to, you know, I can do it. It won’t take that long.”

“You’re going through a lot. So you need to take care of yourself too,” he replied as he took her hand.

The way she smiled at him was somewhat comforting. She murmured a soft ‘thank you' before she kissed his cheek tenderly.

But what about George’s father?

Soon enough, he was waiting for her to get ready to leave in the hall. He spotted Jojo silently standing still only a few inches away from him. He looked confused, unable to move any longer. They observed each other silently, and it seemed as though Jojo was silently begging for some comfort. He ended up approaching him, slowly, and once he was near him he put one careful hand on his shoulder, to show him he wasn’t going to do anything bad to him. He needed to bend a bit since the boy was much smaller than him.

“He’ll be alright.” He simply said.

The confidence in his voice still made the boy surprised.

Then, a few seconds later, he unexpectedly hugged him, more instinctively than anything else.

He didn’t know what it was like to have a little brother, unlike his siblings. And sometimes he wished he could have been a big brother too. To have this protective instinct and be a kind of role model for him, or her. The more the better. Well, you couldn’t choose your family, but he could choose what he was doing right now, for example. So this wasn’t that bad.

“Do you promise?” The boy whispered feebly.

A soft smile quickly formed on his lips.

“I do.”

Hey!
So we finally get to meet George's mother. What do you think of her ? And that man, Stephen ?
Jojo is just such a sweet child ❤️
Stay safe and take care 😘💕