16th March 2015
Ali dropped his bag on the hotel bed and wrapped his arms around himself. One hour until his medical exam, and if he passed it—which he would, as he was in good health—then two hours until he started the drug treatment to produce enough cells for donation.
And he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he wanted to.
“Right,” Yazid said, sitting on the end of the bed with a thump. “If we get you sorted within a couple of hours, then we can spend the afternoon just dossing around the city centre. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” Ali mumbled.
Yazid’s face softened. “C’mere,” he murmured.
Ali shrugged, hunching his shoulders. The question was the same. “D’you think I’m doing the right thing?”
“No, ‘cause you’re over there and I told you to come here,” Yazid said flippantly, holding out
