“Of course,” he replied, helping one of the paramedics to close the back door of the vehicle while the other started up the engine.

As the ambulance reversed back, the Saab shot into the courtyard, immediately pulling over to one side to allow it to pass. Josh got out of the car and walked across to his father, and they stood watching as the vehicle made its way slowly down the driveway.

“What did he look like?” Josh asked.

“Not too good. He’s having a real problem breathing.”

“Shit,” Josh said quietly. He gave his father a pat on the back. “Where are Max and Sooty?”

“I’m not sure. Probably in the kitchen.”

“Right, I’ll go and see how they’re getting on. I don’t suppose you’ll have any idea when you’re going to get back from Inverness?”

“No. It’ll depend on what the doctors say at the hospital.”

“Well, keep in touch. Have you got your mobile with you?”

“Yup, I have,” Dan replied distantly, continuing to watch on after the ambulance had disappeared around the final bend in the road. “So, what do you think this time, Josh? Is everything going to be all right?”

There was a pause before Josh answered. “I don’t know. All I can say is that I don’t have that same feeling of total confidence about this one. But then again, this is Patrick we’re talking about.”

Dan let out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. It is.”

The hospital was situated on the outskirts of Inverness, a tall, modern-looking building with every one of its windows protected from the sunlight by Venetian blinds. As the ambulance pulled into the emergency bay, Dan veered off and made his way to the car park.

He waited for an hour in the foyer of the hospital, then, having never been a great fan of the smell of medical establishments, he went out and sat in the car. With the sun on his face and still with the aftermath of a hangover, he dozed peacefully as he listened to the morning story on Radio 4.

He was awoken by the sound of the passenger door being opened. Katie got in and slumped back in the seat with a long, exhausted breath.

“How is he?” Dan asked.

“The doctor told me that he is ‘stable,’ whatever that means.”

He reached over and patted her knee. “A lot better than ‘critical,’ I would think. How long do you reckon they’ll keep him here?”

“No idea, but I have little doubt that as soon as Patrick kicks off the infection, he’ll be yelling to get out of the place as quickly as he can.”

Dan laughed. “No doubt.” He reached forward and turned off the radio. “So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I should leave him.”

“No, I agree with that.”