Page 25 of Prognosis So Done

‘I’ll get it,’ said Gill to Joan, who had half risen. ‘It

might be for me.’

Joan nodded and sat back down.

‘Hello, surgical building, Dr Guillaume Remy.’

Harriet knew immediately when Gill slipped into French that

it was his father on the other end of the phone. Everyone

waited with bated breath, eavesdropping unashamedly but mostly unable – apart from Katya and Helmut - to follow the one-sided conversation.

‘He’s stabilised,’ said Gill as he hung up.

Before she could check herself, Harriet was out of her

chair and folding her arms around him, lying her head against his chest. ‘Thank God,’ she said.

He hugged her to him and squeezed her close, his lips brushing lightly on the top of her head. And it didn’t matter right now that this closeness was a farce and they were getting divorced, only Henri mattered.

Only Gill mattered.

‘When are they taking him for angiography?’ Liz asked.

‘In the next few hours,’ he said, running his chin absently

back and forth through Harriet’s hair as if he was reluctant to let her go and she sighed.

At least there had been a glimmer of good news on this

horrible, horrible day.

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