Page 67 of Knots About You
‘I’m fine,’ Jim argued, before bursting into a rattling cough.
‘On my way. Stay with him. I’m bringing Isla.’
I set the phone on speaker and helped Jim to the armchair, positioning a cushion behind him to keep him upright. ‘Breathe with me, Jim. In and out. Nice and slow. There’s not a hope in hell I’m letting you stop on my watch.’
Not when I want your son to love me forever.
Calm down, Claire. It’s too soon for love, and you have bigger issues.
‘Don’t fuss,’ he gasped, and gave a pained smile that was convincing no one.
‘Too late. You wait until your kids get here—you’ll be wishing for my level of fuss.’
His breaths remained shallow, worrying scraps, and I stayed crouched beside him.
‘You’re good… for Owen…’ Jim wheezed.
‘Shh, save your breath.’
He squeezed my hands, his eyes moistening. ‘I need you to know that I approve. You make…him…happy.’
‘Mr Harris, I promise you can tell me all of this later.’ If I weren’t concerned that he might keel over, I’d have been squirming with glee at the approval.
The front door banged open. Owen hit the living room in a whirl of wild hair, an expression of concern I’d never seen etched into his face. He went straight to his knees, fingers seeking Jim’s pulse.
‘Hey, Dad. It’s Owen. We’re here. What happened?’
‘I’m out of breath…not blind…Owen.’
Isla’s hands shook as she dialled her phone.
‘Mum,’ she said the second the line connected. ‘Come now. It’s Dad. No, don’t drive like a maniac. Just come.’
’Should I call the ambulance?’ I asked Owen, reassured by having him by my side.
‘Don’t you… dare. Call Doctor…Fraser.’ Jim gripped Owen’s wrist and set him with a dad glare.
‘I’ve got it,’ Isla said, tapping through her phone. ‘Dad’s had a funny turn, he wants Dr Fraser to come. No, he’s refusing an ambulance. Please? Harris House. Chest pain, breathless. He’s conscious and talking.’
Owen led Jim’s breathing pace with a calm that settled me, too. ‘In… two… three. Out… two… three.’
Isla stood misty-eyed at the window, picking at her lip nervously, hardly daring to look at her father.
Jean arrived minutes later, all brash business to deflect from falling apart.
‘Mum,’ Isla said, catching her by the elbows. ‘He’s breathing. The doctor’s coming.’
Jean knelt on the other side of the chair, resting her hand over Jim’s heart. ‘Oh, love. You daft bugger. You should have let them phone an ambulance.’
Footsteps crunched the fallen leaves outside soon after. Dr Fraser, who was much younger and more attractive than I had expected, arrived, gripping a leather bag. He nodded at Owen and Jean, then took Jim’s wrist and counted. Next came the stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff.
We all waited on bated breath, and I slid my hand into Owen’s, squeezing it tightly.
‘Right, Jim,’ he said, ‘You’re all right for now, although I’m going to book you an appointment with the cardiologist just to check on everything.’
‘In Edinburgh?’ Jim coughed.
‘Yes. You’ve been running yourself too thin. You need to slow down. I meanreallyslow down. Like full retirement slow.’
