Antoinette and the vicar sat in the hall while Dr. Heyworth closed the sitting room door and went over to examine the patient. After a brief inspection he sat in the armchair and gave her a stern look. “Well, as I suspected, Lady Frampton, you are in the very best of health.”
“Oh good,” she replied, sitting up and swinging her legs down. “What a relief.”
“Certainly for Lady Frampton.”
“Call her Antoinette,” said Margaret. “It’s confusing having two of us.”
“I’m very glad that Reverend Morley is no longer needed. He can go home without the grim prospect of another funeral.”
“I think I gave him quite a fright. Did you see his face? It was as white as a sheet!”
“You gave Antoinette a fright, too.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” she was quick to reply.
“Then if I may be so bold, what was?”
She smiled at him a little sheepishly. “I’m afraid I concocted the plan with Roberta. You see, David’s falling apart, and I can’t bear to watch it. His heart is broken and shows no signs of mending. Roberta remembered that Phaedra was house-sitting in London for a friend. So Roberta went round and asked for Phaedra’s address in Paris. It was really very simple. The girl was happy to give it.”
“Why the ‘heart attack’?”
“Because wild horses wouldn’t drag David to Paris. He thinks Phaedra has moved on and wants nothing more to do with him. So I thought that, if it’s my dying wish, he’d have to go.”
“Surely there was an easier way, without having to scare the living daylights out of everyone.”
“You tell me, Dr. Heyworth. Roberta and I couldn’t think of one.” She grinned wickedly. “I must say, it’s rather nice to know that people care.”
“More than you realize.”
“Don’t let me down, Doctor. Antoinette will be furious if she realizes I’ve lied.”
He sighed, reluctant to be involved in her plotting. “All right, just this once. But please don’t do it again.”
“I promise. You’d better go and tell them the good news.”
When Dr. Heyworth opened the sitting room door, Antoinette and Reverend Morley leapt to their feet. “How is she?” Antoinette asked.
“She’s going to be fine,” Dr. Heyworth replied. “She just needs to rest.”
Antoinette was so relieved she threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you!” she breathed. “I knew you’d save her.”
Dr. Heyworth was caught off guard. “I had nothing to do with it,” he said, embarrassed. “She’s very robust.”
Antoinette pulled away, blushing. “I was so worried. I couldn’t bear to lose another person I love.”
“It’s all right—you’ve got her for a while yet.”
“That’s exceedingly good news,” said Reverend Morley, walking past them into the sitting room.
“I’m afraid you’ve come over for nothing,” said Margaret.
“To the contrary, I’ve discovered that you’re well. I shall return home full of joy.”
“I’m afraid I can’t offer you a cup of tea, I gave Jenny the day off.”
“What bad luck you had to fall ill on the one day Jenny wasn’t here.”
“I know, Sod’s law! But I can certainly pour you a sherry.”
“What would the doctor say?”
“I don’t think it really matters. He’s got other things on his mind,” she replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
Dr. Heyworth and Antoinette left the vicar and Margaret in the sitting room and walked outside to their cars. “You don’t think I should invite her to stay at my house for a while, just until she recovers?” Antoinette asked.
“She’s fine where she is, I assure you,” Dr. Heyworth replied.
“What if she takes another turn?”
“I don’t think she will. The sort of turn she took was a one-off.”
Antoinette smiled. “I’m so pleased. David told me she was dying. I was terribly worried.”
“She told David she was dying. Old people tend to think the worst.”
“I don’t know where David disappeared to in such a hurry.”
Dr. Heyworth decided not to enlighten her. If David had wanted his mother to know, he would have told her himself. “I’m not sure. But he’ll be relieved to know that his grandmother is alive and kicking!” He opened the back door of his Volvo and placed his doctor’s bag on the seat.
“William,” Antoinette ventured, her heart suddenly beating wildly.
“Yes?”