Chapter Thirty Two
“S oph, Soph, wake up.” Gio was hammering on her bedroom door. “Get up.”
“Jesus, Gio, give me a minute to get my head straight.” She pulled one arm out of bed to check the time, just gone seven thirty. She hadn’t gone to sleep until after one, sitting up and thinking about life, about love, about Tilly.
“No, get up now,” Gio said.
For an instant, she considered telling him where to go with his insistence, but there was something in his voice. She jumped out of bed and opened the door. He was white, his face looking sick. “What is it?” she said.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“Just come downstairs.”
She followed him down to find her father sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. He was gray, his breath coming harder than hers, and she’d just run down the stairs. She looked at Gio. “How long has he been like this?”
“Since he came down,” said Gio. “What do we do? He’s refusing to have the doctor out.”
“We’ll see about that,” Sophie said.
“He is right here,” gasped her father. “And you’ll not be wasting the doc’s time on me. Go and get that garage opened and I’ll be there in half an hour. Let me just catch my breath.”
Sophie looked at her brother, nervous and pale, and at her father, sick and gray, and shook her head. She wasn’t doing this, wasn’t going to play silly masculine games. She took a breath, straightened her shoulders, and took charge.
“Gi, call the surgery and get the emergency number. See if we can get Lydia out here before her morning starts.”
“Right,” Gio said, picking up the cordless phone.
“No,” said her father. “I’ll have no fuss.”
“You’ll do exactly as I tell you,” Sophie barked.
“What about the garage? I’ve got a business to run.”
“Gio’s going to go and open as soon as he’s done on the phone,” Sophie said. “Now come on, let’s get you to the couch.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Fine, you’re not sick, but at least that way you can watch telly while you’re waiting for the doc.”
That seemed to placate him and she helped him into the living room, his weight heavy on her arm. She settled him and went back to the kitchen.
“Lydia’s on her way over,” Gio said.
“Good, now go on and open up the garage.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she said firmly. “He’s not on his deathbed, and you know what he’s like. He’ll worry a lot less if he knows the garage is open. Go on, I’ll give you a ring as soon as Lydia’s come and I know more.” She needed Gio out of the way. He’d panic. He was terrible in an emergency. It would be better for him to keep himself busy.
She ushered him out of the house and went back to her father. He was looking a little better now that he was lying down. His color was slightly pinker.
“There’s nothing wrong,” he grumbled as she came in.
“Did I say there was?” she said, sitting down next to him on the edge of the couch. “And if there’s not, well, it won’t be a problem, will it? Lydia will check you out and you’ll be right off to work.”
“I will be that,” he said.
“Or she’ll give you a sick note and you can stay home and watch the telly all day. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
He grinned a bit at that. “Doesn’t sound bad at all, put like that.” He took a wheezing breath and then reached out to take her hand. “Only don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
He looked up at her, his face pained. “Don’t let them take me away.”
“Why would I do that?” she asked, thinking that an ambulance to the hospital would be the most sensible thing she’d heard in a long time.
“They took your mum away,” he said, turning away from her. “She wanted to stay, but they took her.”
“Dad…” She took a deep breath. “Dad, you’re not mum. You don’t have cancer. If Lyd needs you to go to hospital, it’ll only be for tests. Try not to worry so much. I’m right here with you.”
She squeezed his hand tight and knew that he was afraid. It was hard to stay angry with him, hard to imagine that he was the same man that had been so angry with her just last night.
Unless that had something to do with this. Unless she’d worried him into this with her stupid decisions and her stupid heart.
“I’ll be at that concert tomorrow,” he said, turning back to her with a grim smile. “You want to bet on it?”
She laughed. “It’s only a concert, dad. It’s not important.”
“You’re in it. It’s important to me. I don’t want to miss it.”
“Well, you’d better do what the doctor says then, hadn’t you?” she said, patting his arm just as the doorbell rang.
LYDIA PUT HER stethoscope back into her case and closed it up with a click. “I’d really prefer that you go into hospital,” she said.
“No,” said Paul Farmer. He was looking better, to be fair. His cheeks were pink again and his breathing was better. “I’m feeling alright now. I don’t want to be waiting around until all hours at the hospital. I’ve got a family and a business to run.”
Lydia laughed. “I’m sure that Sophie and Gio can take care of themselves.”
Paul just grunted at this, and it occurred to Sophie for that first time that her father still thought he had to look after his children. He’s spent a long time caring for them alone, she thought. It must be a hard habit to break.
“Well, if you’re sure,” said Lydia. “You’ve got your pills, and if there’s any sign of anything else, I want you to call an ambulance immediately, no waiting for me to get here. Tightness in your chest, trouble breathing, pain in your chest or in your arm, you call nine-nine-nine immediately, is that clear?”
“Clear as glass,” Paul said with a sniff. “I’ll be back at work this afternoon, though. You wait and see.”
Lydia flashed a look at Sophie, who said, “No.”
“What?”
“No, dad,” she said. “You’re having the rest of the day off, at least. If you want to come to the concert tomorrow, then you need to stay home today and get some rest. No arguments. Right, doctor?”
“Sounds fair to me,” said Lydia, with a nod at Sophie.
Paul sniffed again. “Worrying women,” he said, but he was already settling back onto the couch with the remote in his hand. Sophie showed Lydia to the door.
“Is he really alright?” she said.
Lydia sighed. “For now, yes. But he needs tests, a thorough checkup. If you could persuade him to go to the hospital, it’d be far better.”
“I’ll work on it,” Sophie said. She already had a plan. Her dad and Gio would come to see the concert tomorrow and ten-to-one Gio would be in his shiny new car. He practically drove it to the shop at the end of the street. She’d persuade her dad to ride home with them in Gio’s car, and instead they’d take him to the hospital.
Lydia nodded at the plan. “I’ll give the cardiac clinic a ring,” she said. “Make sure they know he’s coming in tomorrow afternoon. Maybe that might speed things up a bit.”
“Right,” said Sophie. “I’ll make sure that he takes his meds and doesn’t do anything too strenuous. Thank you.”
“It’s my job,” Lydia grinned. “And you’re very welcome. A large part of the battle with patients like your dad is getting them to take things seriously. They’ve spent a long time having a stiff upper lip and pretending that nothing is wrong, so getting them to make serious changes is difficult.”
Sophie opened the door to let Lydia out and was more than surprised to see Tilly walking up the garden path.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Lydia said, looking from Tilly to Sophie and then back again before scurrying off.
Sophie gritted her teeth and pulled the front door shut behind her. Tilly wasn’t coming into the house. She couldn’t risk her dad finding out that she was here. “What do you want?” she hissed.
“To talk to you,” said Tilly.
“There’s nothing to say.” Which wasn’t true. There was too much to say, that was more the problem.
“Please, Sophie,” said Tilly. “I just want a few minutes of your time. Let me say my piece and then I’ll go if you want me to, I swear.”
For just a second, Sophie almost said yes. She wanted to hear what Tilly wanted to say. She wanted to be close to her, even if it was just for a minute. She couldn’t help how she felt, even though she knew she shouldn’t feel that way.
Then her dad coughed inside and she shook herself out of her thoughts. “No,” she said shortly.
“Please.” Tilly moved a step closer and Sophie could smell the scent of her, her mouth watering at the warmth of having her so close. “Just a few minutes?”
Sophie bit her lip, then sighed. “Not here, not now,” she said finally.
Tilly’s face lit up. “Okay, where and when?”
“Soph?” her dad called from inside. He sounded whiny, not in pain.
“Tomorrow,” she said hurriedly. “After the concert. Five minutes only.”
“Anything you say,” Tilly said.
“Right then.”
“Soph?” called her dad.
“Is everything alright?” asked Tilly, face frowning in concern, she looked over to where Lydia was disappearing around the corner of the street.
“It’s fine,” Sophie said firmly. “I’ve got to go.”
Tilly stepped back again. “Right, yes, course. Um, until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Sophie said, taking one last long look at Tilly before she turned around and went back inside.
“Soph?” her dad called from the living room. “That you? Want to bring me a bacon sandwich?”
She closed the front door and sighed. “No dad, no bacon, we’ve talked about this. I’ll get you a nice salad instead and some eggs.”
There was the sound of grumbling from the living room, but she ignored it as she went into the kitchen. Most of her mind was worried about her dad. A tiny part was wondering just what Tilly wanted to say to her. Her heart beat a little harder. Tilly had looked nice, worried, relieved a little. Would Tilly always make her feel this way?