Back Breathe Save as PDF
Chapters (31)
  1. Synopsis
  2. What Reviewers Say About Cari Hunter’s Work
  3. By the Author
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Dedication
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-one
  27. Chapter Twenty-two
  28. Epilogue
  29. About the Author
  30. Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
  31. BOLDSTROKESBOOKS.COM

“You’re a bloody idiot,” she muttered, lowering her head into her hands. She looked up again when Harriet walked in, but she couldn’t muster anything beyond a perfunctory greeting. “Hey, Doc. Jem’s just getting dressed.”

Harriet sat on the adjacent chair and gave her a bag full of medicines and a slip of paper with two phone numbers on it. “My mobile and home number. If there’s a problem, call me. Whatever time, I don’t mind. Jem’s not daft, but she doesn’t like being in here, either, so she’ll try to get by even when she shouldn’t.”

Rosie slid the paper into her wallet, glad of the security it offered, although less comfortable with the role of minder. “She seems quiet this morning,” she said.

“I noticed. It’s not uncommon after a trauma like this. You may find yourself struggling as well. Don’t be too proud to ask for counselling if you need it.”

“I won’t.” She might have said more, had Jem not come back into the room. Swaddled in an oversized fleece, Jem hid her hands in its sleeves and folded her arms, though the hospital was stifling.

“Ready for the off?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Jem said. She seemed far less certain now that she had permission to leave. “Thanks, Harriet.” For a moment, she hesitated. Then she hugged her tightly, hiding her face against Harriet’s chest.

“My pleasure.” Harriet kissed the top of her head. “You’re both to stay out of mischief for a while, is that understood?”

“Loud and clear,” Rosie said.

“We’ll try,” Jem added.

Leaving Harriet at the nurses’ station, they walked toward the main entrance, dodging porters wheeling elderly patients from one ward to the next, and domestic staff making the most of the Sunday morning lull. With Jem clearly not in the mood for small talk, Rosie cast the odd surreptitious glance at her, mindful that this was the farthest she had walked since her admission, and keenly attuned to signs that she was starting to struggle.

“I’m fine, Rosie,” Jem said, catching one of Rosie’s split-second appraisals.

Rosie raised her hands in surrender and said nothing.