‘We’ve had an offer of 900,000 francs for the property,’ said Max, ‘which is almost £100,000. But I’m not going to settle yet, as two other parties have also asked to view it. The French agents are recommending that we accept anything over a million francs.’
‘If that’s also your advice, I’m happy to go along with it,’ said Angus. ‘And if you close the deal, Max, I’ll fly over and sign the contract. I’ve been promising Ruth a trip to London for some time.’
‘Good. It would be nice to see you both again,’ said Max, before ringing off.
He phoned again at the end of the week, and although Ruth managed a whole sentence before Angus appeared at her side, she didn’t have time to respond to his sentiments.
‘£107,600?’ said Angus. ‘That’s far better than I’d expected. Well done, Max. Why don’t you draw up the contracts, and the moment you’ve got the deposit in the bank, I’ll fly over.’ Angus put the phone down and, turning to Ruth, said, ‘Well, it looks as if it might not be too long before we make that promised trip to London.’
~
After checking into a small hotel in Marble Arch, Ruth and Angus joined Max at a restaurant in South Audley Street that Angus had never heard of. And when he saw the prices on the menu, he knew he wouldn’t have selected it if he had. But the staff were very attentive, and seemed to know Max well.
Ruth found the dinner frustrating, because all Angus wanted to talk about was the deal, and once Max had satisfied him on that front, he went on to discuss his other properties in Scotland.
‘They seem to be showing a poor return on capital investment,’ Angus said. ‘Perhaps you could check them out, and advise me on what I should do?’
‘I’d be delighted,’ said Max, as Ruth looked up from her foie gras and stared at her husband. ‘Are you feeling all right, my dear?’ she asked. ‘You’ve turned quite white.’
‘I’ve got a pain down my right side,’ complained Angus. ‘It’s been a long day, and I’m not used to these swanky restaurants. I’m sure it’s nothing a good night’s sleep won’t sort out.’
‘That may be the case, but I still think we should go straight back to the hotel,’ Ruth said, sounding concerned.
‘Yes, I agree with Ruth,’ chipped in Max. ‘I’ll settle the bill and ask the doorman to find us a taxi.’
Angus rose unsteadily to his feet and walked slowly across the restaurant, leaning heavily on Ruth’s arm. When Max joined them in the street a few moments later, Ruth and the doorman were helping Angus into a taxi.
‘Good night, Angus,’ said Max. ‘I hope you’re feeling better in the morning. Don’t hesitate to call me if I can be of any assistance.’ He smiled and closed the taxi door.
By the time Ruth had managed to get her husband into bed, he didn’t look any better. Although she knew he wouldn’t approve of the extra expense, she called for the hotel doctor.
The do
ctor arrived within the hour, and after a full examination he surprised Ruth by asking for the details of what Angus had eaten for dinner. She tried to recollect the courses he had chosen, but all she could remember was that he had fallen in with Max’s suggestions. The doctor advised that Mr Henderson should be visited by a specialist first thing in the morning.
‘Poppycock,’ said Angus weakly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me that our local GP won’t sort out just as soon as we’re back on Jersey. We’ll get the first flight home.’
Ruth agreed with the doctor, but knew there was no point in arguing with her husband. When he eventually fell asleep, she went downstairs to phone Max and warn him that they would be returning to Jersey in the morning. He sounded concerned, and repeated his offer to do anything he could to help.
When they boarded the aircraft the following morning and the chief steward saw the state Angus was in, it took all Ruth’s powers of persuasion to convince him to allow her husband to remain on the flight. ‘I must get him back to his own doctor as quickly as possible,’ she pleaded. The steward reluctantly acquiesced.
Ruth had already phoned ahead to arrange for a car to meet them – something else Angus would not have approved of. But by the time the plane landed, Angus was no longer in any state to offer an opinion.
As soon as Ruth had got him back to the house and into his own bed, she immediately called their GP. Dr Sinclair carried out the same examination as the London doctor had put him through, and he too asked what Angus had eaten the night before. He came to the same conclusion: Angus must see a specialist immediately.
An ambulance came to pick him up later that afternoon and take him to the Cottage Hospital. When the specialist had completed his examination, he asked Ruth to join him in his room. ‘I’m afraid the news is not good, Mrs Henderson,’ he told her. ‘Your husband has suffered a heart attack, possibly aggravated by a long day and something he ate that didn’t agree with him. In the circumstances, I think it might be wise to bring the children back from school.’
Ruth returned home later that night, not knowing who she could turn to. The phone rang, and when she picked it up she recognised the voice immediately.
‘Max,’ she blurted out, ‘I’m so glad you called. The specialist says Angus hasn’t long to live, and that I ought to bring the boys back home.’ She paused. ‘I don’t think I’m up to telling them what’s happened. You see, they adore their father.’
‘Leave it to me,’ said Max quietly. ‘I’ll ring the headmaster, go down and pick them up tomorrow morning, and fly over to Jersey with them.’
‘That’s so kind of you, Max.’
‘It’s the least I could do in the circumstances,’ said Max. ‘Now try and get some rest. You sound exhausted. I’ll call back as soon as I know which flight we’re on.’
Ruth returned to the hospital and spent most of the night sitting by her husband’s bedside. The only other visitor, who Angus insisted on seeing, was the family solicitor. Ruth arranged for Mr Craddock to come the following morning, while she was at the airport picking up Max and the twins.