‘To ask if they can spare anyone to take the consultations here. Wendy might be able to do it.’ Pippa was already dialling, holding up a hand when he opened his mouth. ‘Bed. I mean it.’
‘Not until I know you’ve got cover,’ he wheezed crossly, dropping onto one of the waiting room chairs. The first two clients had arrived and backed out hurriedly when they spotted Gil clutching his chest. Pippa went over, phone to her ear, and opened the door, letting in all the fresh air she could and hoping she hadn’t already caught whatever it was he had.
‘Right, we’re sorted,’ she said briskly, ending the call as she gave him a wide berth and resumed her place behind the counter. ‘Wendy’s on her way. Angie texted her whilst I was holding, and she can do it. She’ll be here in twenty minutes, so I’ll just apologise when clients arrive and hopefully they won’t mind waiting a bit longer.’
‘I could do it.’ He gave Pippa a look from red-rimmed and watery eyes, and blew his nose so loudly that Lola barked again.
‘Get out of here,’ she said firmly, pointing to the door. He obeyed, clambering to his feet, and grumbling under his breath. He called Lola, scowling when she refused to join him and settled in the bed beside Pippa instead. Thankfully, it was a pleasant morning, and she left the door open, trying to clear the room of any lingering bugs.
Wendy arrived soon after and dealt with the patients, including the vomiting dog, and Pippa was glad to finish when lunchtime arrived. She had a free afternoon without Harriet at home to clean the house and hopefully make it a little more welcoming. She locked up, Lola beside her as they crossed the yard to the caravan. She knocked tentatively in case Gil was asleep, not certain that she’d heard him call ‘Come in’ until she tried a second time, and he fairly bawled it. She pushed open the door and Lola leaped inside.
‘Just returning Lola,’ she called cheerfully. ‘Hope you’re feeling better.’
His reply was another bout of coughing followed by swearing and she hesitated. ‘Can I get you anything?’ Enemies they might be, but she couldn’t leave him without checking. ‘A drink, or some medication?’ She paused, trying to make him out between the coughs and stepped inside the dark and gloomy caravan. ‘Sorry, what?’
‘Isaid, don’t come in.’
‘Oh, right.’ She laughed awkwardly, horrified by the cold in here when the air outside was warm. Lola’s bed was on one narrow sofa, and through the gloom Pippa made out Gil hunched on the other, a fold-up table between the two. A duvet was pulled up to his ears and he had a cushion for a pillow.
‘Gil, I can see from here you’re shivering. You’ve obviously got a temperature,’ she said worriedly. ‘When did you last have some meds?’
‘Dunno. Ran out.’
She glanced at the sink full of dishes, the tiny two-ring hob, marvelling that it hadn’t blown up the caravan yet. ‘Right, get up,’ she said firmly. ‘You can’t stay in here, it’s foul and damp, and that’s being polite.’
‘Not getting up.’
‘You are, even if I have to drag you out myself.’ She’d never be able to do that in a million years, not with those shoulders, but she hoped the threat might make him move. ‘Get up.’
‘Not got anywhere else to go.’
The words sliced through Pippa’s heart, and she held back a gasp, startled by their truth and how much of it was her fault. He shouldn’t be living in this caravan, even if he’d chosen to. He had a tenancy agreement for the house, and he ought to be in it.
‘Yeah, you do. That’s your house right over there and you’re moving back in.’
‘Am not,’ he muttered in between coughs. ‘Not while you’re in it. Don’t need any more complications.’
Pippa had had enough, and she nearly flew the three steps it took to grab the duvet and yank it off him. ‘Get up, you stubborn and stupid man,’ she roared. ‘Or do I have to get half the village in here to help me?’
He shot her a furious glare as he hunched into a sitting position. His T-shirt was soaked in sweat and boxers were the only other thing he had on, apart from socks. She threw a pair of jeans and another T-shirt at him, and grabbed Lola’s bed. Two for the price of one, she thought wryly, as she escaped into the sunshine to let him change.
He trailed after her into the house, still shivering as she moved to the kettle. She hadn’t replaced it and kept forgetting to order a better one, telling herself there wasn’t any point as she wouldn’t be here much longer. She switched it on and found a mug. ‘When did you last have meds?’
‘Think about four a.m. Couldn’t sleep after that.’
‘Right, then it’s definitely time for more. Sit down.’ She pointed at the table, and he pulled out a chair, Lola already settled in her bed in the usual spot nearby. Pippa brought over a mug of ginger tea and a packet of paracetamol. He accepted both with quiet thanks, so unlike his usual self around her.
‘Give me ten minutes to change the bed, then come up.’
‘Hardly seems worth it when I’m feverish.’
‘Clean sheets feel so much nicer,’ she said, thankful she’d found extra bedding in an airing cupboard on the landing when Raf had stayed over. ‘And these aren’t damp, which is a major improvement on your previous arrangement.’
She’d just finished pulling the duvet in place and plumping the pillows, wondering why she was doing this for Gil of all people, when he appeared in the door, Lola behind him.
‘No, Lola,’ she said firmly, giving the Labrador a hard stare. ‘Gil doesn’t need to be getting up and letting you out.’
‘Not your job to look after her,’ he muttered, still clutching the mug as he walked to the bed.
