He suffered the look nobly. The sitting room looked as if there had been a bombing raid. If the girls were going to continue to be batshit crazy until he got them to Sweden his frustrations would be off the scale. He felt sick whenever he thought about his big, gentle dad in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines. Mattias would be doing everything needed, Nico knew, but he wanted to jump on a plane, be with his family now, not the day after tomorrow. The two little girls upstairs prevented him acting on the urge.

Righting a red plastic toy crate in the sitting room he scooped Barbie-sized clothes and accessories into it one-handed as he called his brother. They’d already arranged that if he was at the hospital Mattias would have his phone set to vibrate so it wouldn’t disturb others. He answered, ‘Do you want to talk to Dad? He’s brighter this evening.’

Relief flooded through Nico. ‘That would be fantastic.’ He could hear the background noise of the ward as the phone was passed over.

Lars sounded tired but very much himself. ‘Don’t think this means you’re excused a trip to the rink next week.’

Nico laughed. ‘I wouldn’t dare. Have you been having chest pain?’

‘A little,’ admitted Lars. He broke off to cough. ‘I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t have time to be ill.’

‘Looks like you’ve had to make time,’ Nico broke in, caught in his anxiety for his father.

‘Looking forward to seeing you on Friday,’ Lars said, obviously not wanting to pursue that. ‘Here’s your brother.’

Mattias came back on the line and the noises of the ward receded. ‘I’ve come out into the corridor. He’s exhausted,’ he told Nico, sounding uneasy.

Queasiness swept Nico and he got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry not to be able to get there tomorrow—’

‘There would be no point,’ Mattias interrupted. ‘That’s when he’ll have his angiogram. He’s almost bound to need intervention – either stents or bypass surgery.’ He blew out a sigh. ‘They’ve suggested short visits in the evening. Mum’s here all the time! You wouldn’t think they’d been divorced twenty-two years. She’s cornering doctors and giving nurses instructions like the most anxious of relatives.’

Nico digested this. He realised his hand was full of Barbie shoes and let them clatter into the toy crate. ‘Wow. How’s Dad reacting?’

Mattias half-laughed. ‘They were holding hands when I got here tonight. Ironic, really. When we needed them together, they split up. Although you took up Dad’s time anyway.’ He switched subjects. ‘Do you need fetching from the airport on Friday?’

‘I’ll have a rental car,’ Nico answered automatically, still working on Mattias’s words. ‘I spent a lot of time with Dad because of the ice hockey.’