Exclusive Excerpt from Won’t Feel a Thing

by C.F. White

“The first time I ate an oyster, I nearly chucked it back up.” Ollie bit into the luxuriously hot and creamy pizza slice. He tucked it to the side of his mouth to continue talking. “Felt like I was eating snot.”

Jacob laughed, holding a hand up to his lips not to spit his own mouthful of pizza across the room. He had come back to the ward quite quickly, and Ollie had managed to sneak him through into Daisy’s room, with the door firmly shut. The offer of the one slice had made him not immediately back right out. He was hungry, and it was another two hours until his official break. All his patients were asleep, obs up to date, and while he should be catching up on the paperwork, he thought he could use a quick bite.

Sitting at the end of Daisy’s room on the pull-out sofa, Ollie had closed the separating curtain in case anyone peeked in through the blinds. It wasn’t exactly against the rules to bring food into children’s rooms, although it was frowned upon if it wasn’t food from the hospital canteen. It was probably ever so much more frowned upon for Ollie to be eating it with a patient’s parent.

The pizza box lay open on the sofa between them, and Ollie perched on the armrest while Jacob sat on the cushions. Jacob devoured the pizza as if he hadn’t eaten properly in days. Ollie couldn’t blame him. The seafood variety of topping was to die for. But he suspected it was the first time Jacob had allowed such a meal to pass his lips in a while, fear and worry taking over the hunger pangs in his stomach. It made him wonder what sort of person wouldn’t tell their child’s father about their child’s operation.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Ollie started and realized that was the age-old saying for actually, yes I do and I’m so gonna. “But how come you didn’t know about Daisy being here? Did her mother not tell you? The operation would have been booked in for months.”

Jacob swallowed his last piece of pizza and wiped his hands on a paper napkin to rid them of the crumbs and leftover grease. He fell back in the seat and rested his head against the wall, his bright, all-consuming blue eyes on Ollie’s.

“She doesn’t particularly like me anymore.” Jacob admitted. “We don’t really speak. Most of our conversations are conducted through lawyers and the CSA—the child support agency. I used to see Daisy every other weekend, but when she got sick, Becky stopped turning up. I believe she also has a new boyfriend who may be the cause of some of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Ollie replied, now wishing he hadn’t asked. “That must be tough.”

Jacob shook his head against the wall. “I deserve it, I suppose.”

“Nothing merits being shut out of your daughter’s life.” Ollie was surprised at how gallant it came out.

Jacob picked at the skin on his hand. “Perhaps not,” he said. “But I don’t think she really trusts me. Lying to someone for so many years often has that effect.”

Ollie nodded, sympathetic smile on display, and decided to leave that there. It wasn’t his place to know the whole goings-on in the man’s life, even if it did affect his patient.

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