‘Where am I?’ Owen groaned, surprised to find himself in bed.
‘Don’t you recognise your old room?’ Millie grinned at him. Everything around her came into focus. Owen was fourteen years back in the past. He’d arrived home from an assignment abroad and fallen into bed fully clothed, exhausted. Sometime later, Millie had appeared with tea, curious to hear about his overseas adventures. Where’d George been that night? He couldn’t remember.
Totally confused, Owen shook his head. Big mistake! He had the killer of a headache, which must have been lying dormant until he moved. ‘What’s happened? Why am I here?’
‘You collapsed in the office,’ Millie explained. ‘Here, drink this.’ She held some water to his mouth, and while he struggled to swallow, she went on, ‘Sally is on her way with Henry. Lexie’s finishing with her client and then driving up.’
‘Why all the fuss?’
‘We were worried about you. George thought at first, you’d had a heart attack.’
‘Where is George?’
‘He had to go back to the office, but he’s going to come home as soon as he can.’
‘How did I get here?’ Owen coughed. Now his chest hurt. What sort of bug was this?
‘In a limo.’
‘A limo?’ This must have been how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole. Nothing seemed real.
Millie smiled again. ‘Yes, you crumpled in a heap in front of George just as that nice new owner of WIV arrived.’
‘Roger’s bought WIV?’
‘Well, no, not yet. There are all the legal niceties to get through. But Roger will buy it, and he’s already very involved. The Blanchards have stopped bothering George, thank the Lord.’
Owen lowered his head tentatively on the pillow and, trying to ignore the blinding pain behind his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering why George had mentioned none of this to him. Perhaps he had. A sudden doubt entered his mind. He knew he didn’t always listen to George, and his memory sometimes let him down, but the last thing he thought he’d known was Roger’s team were doing due diligence. Now it seemed it was almost a done deal.
‘It’s a good thing Roger was there,’ Millie’s voice came from across the room where she was folding Owen’s clothes onto a chair. ‘He took control, got his chauffeur and that nice young man who works as his personal assistant to carry you down to the limo, and they brought you here. His doctor is coming soon.’ The doorbell rang.
‘Ah! Speak of the devil. That must be him.’
* * *
‘Where is he?’It was Lexie’s voice. Owen opened his eyes, realising he must have fallen asleep again. He remembered Roger’s doctor had come and gone. Nowadays, it seemed the only way to get a house call was to be a private patient, or perhaps dead. He wondered if Lex’s father did house calls. He vaguely recalled Millie offering soup after the doctor left. Then it was blank again. Not even dreams before he was awake again, bathed in sweat, giddy although he was lying still, and looking up at Sally and Henry. Dreaming?
No, it seemed not. Sally sat on the bed, and the mattress dipped. ‘Owen, lovie. You put the frighteners on us today.’
‘George shouldn’t have called you. He shouldn’t have worried you.’
‘He did the right thing,’ Henry said.
‘Millie said, the doctor thought you’d caught this from your daughter,’ Sally said, straightening the top of the duvet for Owen.
‘Children! Walking germ factories,’ Henry remarked and went to sit in the chair across the room.
Sally turned to him. ‘Which is why I don’t want you visiting the child. You shouldn’t even be in here.’
Owen remembered Henry complaining at being nagged and Sally ushering him out of the room. He remembered Henry’d said something about visiting Emi. And he’d tried to lift himself off the bed, protesting, ‘Not without me – her father.’
Lexie’s voice broke him out of the memories, saying, ‘Please, can I go to him?’
He heard Millie say, ‘He’s in bed. Sleeping. He’s been drifting in and out of sleep all day. Come through to the kitchen. I’ll get you a cup of tea.’
Lexie said, ‘I don’t want to be rude, but I’d rather go to Owen. Even if he’s asleep, I can sit with him.’
‘Of course, top of the stairs, first door on the left.’
