Arise, Sir Jackson – Chapter 2
-O-
DISCLAIMER: I am not connected to Emmerdale and its characters, which belong to ITV
-O-
Hazel came rushing into the room as if the devil himself was chasing her, "Where is he? Can I see him? Is he OK?"
"Whoa, slow down Hazel," Aaron took hold of her, as much to stop her forward momentum as anything, "he's having a scan but the doctor says he doesn't look too bad."
"I've been going out of my mind since I heard the news," Hazel still looked worried, "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to my little Jam-Jar," she loved using her pet name for her grandson.
Hazel turned her attention to Aston, "What happened? What were you doing?"
Aston and Jaron had been friends since they started school together at five years old. He was a good-looking kid, with masses of dark curls on his head, brown eyes and a coffee-coloured skin, "We were playing cowboys and Indians," Aston looked upset and his mother Tina put a comforting hand on his arm, "He climbed that old tree near the summerhouse, but I think a branch snapped and he just tumbled out of it. It wasn't my fault!" Aston looked as if he would burst into tears any minute.
Hazel crouched down and looked at Aston, "No-one's blaming you, sweetheart, I know it was an accident, I just wanted to know how it happened...that's all."
Hazel stood up again and addressed Aaron, "Where's Jackson? Why isn't he here?"
"I've tried to get hold of him," Aaron replied, "I've left messages on his voicemail. I know he's busy filming today so I don't know when he'll get a break."
Almost in answer to his question, Aaron's mobile rang and he saw that his husband was calling him, "Hello babe," he answered.
"What's happened to our son?" Jackson's voice sounded panic-stricken, "Is he OK? Please tell me that he's alright!"
"Calm down Jay, he's not badly hurt, not according to the doctor, anyway."
"I'm finished here for the day, so I'll be there as soon as I can."
"OK, babe, you drive safely now," Aaron looked at Hazel, "He's on his way."
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The doctor had allowed Aaron and Jackson to sit with Jaron. Hazel, Aston and Tina had all been in to see the patient, but the doctor did not want too many people crowding him, so just his parents remained.
"You'll have a big bump on your head," Aaron smiled at his son, "I bet real cowboys don't get impressive bumps like that."
"Does that mean I can have some more ice cream?" Jaron asked, hopefully.
Jackson sighed, "You're as bad as Daddy, always thinking of your stomach."
Aaron looked at Jackson with a stern expression on his face, although he was teasing him as usual, "Our son can have some ice cream if he wants...he's been in the wars."
"Daddy says I can have some," Jaron savoured his moment of triumph.
"But, only if you're a good boy," Jackson smiled at his offspring.
"Oh, please Pop!" Jaron had a pleading look on his face. He always distinguished Aaron from Jackson by calling one 'Daddy' and the other one 'Pop'.
Jackson could never refuse his son when he had that look on his face: the expression was so much like Aaron's that it was uncanny. Jackson loved Aaron with all his heart and soul and his 'mini-me' was bound to twist him round his little finger in a similar fashion.
"Alright," Jackson gently stroked Jaron's cheek with his hand, "But only if the doctor says it's OK."
"When can I come home?" Jaron asked.
Aaron took his son's hand in his own, "You can come home tomorrow: the doctor wants to keep an eye on you tonight. You're a very special boy and they need to make sure that you are better."
Just then, the door opened and Brett and Mason appeared, "We just came to see if there's anything we can do, the doctor said we could come in for a couple of minutes."
"It's good of you to visit," Jackson stood up to allow Brett and Mason to get to the side of the bed.
Brett looked at Jaron, "How are you feeling, tiger?"
Jaron was lapping up all the attention, "I've got a big bump, uncle Brett...look!" he pointed at his head.
"Wow! They should give you a medal for bravery!" Mason joked.
"Never mind the medal," Aaron said, "Our boy just wants an endless supply of ice cream."
"Ice cream, eh?" Brett chuckled, "Well, when you're better, you'll have to come over and have some of my special home-made choc and mint ice cream."
"Wow! Super!" Jaron's eyes lit up, making the four men laugh.
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When they arrived home from visiting Jaron in the hospital, Brett and Mason picked up the post from the doormat and sat in their living room, reading their correspondence.
"There's one here from the adoption people," Brett waved the letter at Mason, "They want us to make an appointment with them to discuss Joel."
"They certainly make a meal of it, don't they?" Mason frowned.
"Well, they have to make sure we're suitable candidates." Brett replied.
"What? We haven't grown two heads or got any convictions for mass murder?" Mason was being his sarcastic best.
"I suppose they need to be thorough," Brett tried to see it from the adoption authority's point of view, as always.
"Yeah, I suppose!" Mason did not sound totally convinced.
Brett looked a little pensive and then spoke again, "Thinking about what's just happened to Jaron, I expect we've got all that sort of thing to look forward to, if they decide to let us adopt Joel."
"Yeah, the joys of being a parent!"
"It's all part of it," Brett was being pragmatic, "I'm sure the joys outweigh the sorrows. I bet Aaron and Jackson wouldn't be without young Jaron, even at times like these."
"Yeah, you can see the love in their eyes when they look at their son. That's something I'd like to experience."
Brett crossed over to Mason and drew him into a hug, "...and you will. I know all the form-filling and interviews are a pain, but it will all be worth it in the end."
Mason kissed the love of his life, "C'mon, let's get to bed and get some sleep...while we still can!"
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The next day, Jaron was released from hospital and Aaron and Jackson could not be happier that he was home again, where he belonged. But, he was under strict instructions not to go climbing any more trees for the foreseeable future!
After their son was tucked up in bed, the couple relaxed together on their sofa.
"I wish you didn't have to go to London tomorrow," Aaron gazed into his husband's big brown eyes.
"Yeah, I know, I don't like spending a night away from you, either. What makes it worse is that the function that I'm going to will be as boring as hell!"
"Can't you get out of it?"
"No, I'm afraid not. I've got to give a little speech during the evening. Who'd be a knight of the realm eh?"
"You're just too important, that's your trouble!" Aaron had a smirk on his face that told Jackson that he was being wound up, as usual. He ignored Aaron's attempts to tease him and kissed him passionately on the lips.
"What's that for?" Aaron looked puzzled.
"No reason...except I won't be able to do that tomorrow night with you being here and me being in a hotel in London."
"Will you miss me?"
"You know I will, but it is only for one night."
Aaron stood up and took Jackson's hand, "Arise, Sir Jackson, its past your bedtime."
"I'll have to have extra tonight, to make up for tomorrow."
"Extra what?"
Jackson's knowing glance towards his husband made it unnecessary for him to give a spoken answer.
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As he had predicted, Jackson found the function that he was attending completely uninteresting. He made his speech during the evening, which seemed to go down well with the assembled dignitaries, but then had to sit though other people's speeches and was in danger of falling asleep, face down, into the soufflé on the table in front of him.
When the evening was finally and thankfully drawing to a close, Jackson pulled out his mobile phone but found that the battery was flat.
"Problem?" Lady Elizabeth Grainger, one of his companions at his table, looked at him with a concerned frown.
"I was going to ring Aaron," Jackson explained, "But my mobile needs charging, I forgot to do it this morning as I was hurrying to catch the train."
Lady Elizabeth was an acquaintance that Jackson had met several times and she knew that he was referring to his husband, "Here, use mine," she offered Jackson her own mobile phone.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes...I take it Aaron's not in Australia!"
"No," Jackson laughed, "Yorkshire's not quite as far as that."
Aaron did not recognise the number that flashed up on his phone, "Hello?"
"Hi gorgeous! It's me!"
"Hello me," Aaron chuckled, "What's happened to your phone?"
"Dead battery...I'll have to charge it when I get to the hotel. Elizabeth kindly leant me hers so I could give you a quick call."
"You're not borrowing the Queen's phone are you?" Aaron could not resist teasing his husband.
"NO! You know Lady Elizabeth Grainger, I introduced you once."
Aaron let that one pass, "How did the speech go?"
"It was OK, I'm just going to call for a cab in a minute, so I thought I'd ring you first as I know you want to turn in early as you've got to be at the opening of your new garage in Bradford tomorrow. So I thought that ringing you from the hotel later would be too late, if you see what I mean."
"Aww, you're so thoughtful babe," Aaron pouted, "I'd ask you to marry me if you weren't already taken."
"I'd accept, taken or not. Listen, I don't want to run up Elizabeth's bill, so I'll say goodnight. Love you, gorgeous."
"Love you too, goodnight baby."
Jackson handed the phone back to Elizabeth, with his thanks. He then walked to the foyer of the meeting hall and asked the concierge to order a taxi.
The concierge, a middle-aged man with a completely bald head, dialled the taxi company and then spoke, "The taxi will be here in a few minutes, Sir Jackson, if you'd like to wait near the entrance...you'll see it pull up in the road outside. Just give your name to the driver to confirm that it is your cab."
"Thank you," Jackson smiled at the man and went to stand by the entrance doors.
Sure enough, a taxi arrived and Jackson opened the rear door and climbed in, "Livesy-Walsh?" he asked of the driver.
"Yes," the driver replied.
Jackson thought that he had probably found the least chatty taxi driver in London. He could not see him clearly from the back of the cab. He was wearing a flat cap and appeared to be quite young, but it was too dark to make out any distinguishing features.
"The Temple Mount Hotel, please," Jackson told the driver where he wished to go.
Without another word, the driver set off down the street. After a while, they seemed to be heading away from the city buildings and into a more countrified setting. Jackson started to become concerned, "Are we headed the right way?" he asked.
"Yes, I know a shortcut," the driver replied. Jackson thought he recognised the voice, but could not place it.
Still, the driver continued on into an ever more secluded district.
"I thought we would have been there by now," Jackson remarked.
There was silence.
"Excuse me, I'm talking to you!" Jackson was starting to get a bit panicky. He pulled at the door handle but the driver had locked him in.
Suddenly, in a deserted, run-down area, the driver brought the cab to an abrupt halt.
Nothing could have prepared Jackson for the shock he received when the driver turned around and stared at him. It was a face that haunted all his nightmares: Dean O'Riordan!
