‘Come here, Katy.’ He spoke with considerable difficulty and Jago frowned.

‘He needs the oxygen, I don’t think he should—’

His patient waved a hand feebly. ‘I need to speak,’ he said hoarsely, and Katy stepped closer, feeling her heart pounding. What was it that her father wanted to say?

‘I haven’t been…’ He broke off and licked his lips. ‘I owe you…’

Her mother’s mouth tightened. ‘Just say it, Charles!’

‘What your mother means is that I’m sorry,’ he croaked finally, closing his eyes and sinking against the back of the trolley which had been raised to allow him to be upright and thus improve his breathing. ‘I didn’t know just how much you loved Jago. I thought it was just a fling.’

Aware of Charlotte’s round-eyed curiosity, Katy felt her face colour. The one time her father came near to an apology for his behaviour, it had to be in front of an audience.

And she didn’t really want Jago reminded of how much she’d loved him.

Her father cleared his throat and fiddled with the mask. ‘I thought you’d get over him, but you never did.’

‘Dad, let’s forget it now.’ Mortified by the disclosure of such personal details, Katy wanted to fall through the floor.

‘And he never got over you,’ her father continued, turning his head with difficulty so that he could see Jago. ‘When you told me that you loved her and wanted to marry her, I was furious. And worried. She was only eighteen and I thought you were wrong for her.’

Katy froze, wondering if her father was rambling. As a doctor she was well aware that a heart attack could cause confusion. Why else would he be saying that Jago loved her? Jago had never loved her. And he’d certainly never wanted to marry her.

‘He’s trying to apologise,’ her mother said, ‘but unfortunately he hasn’t had much practice. I have to confess that it’s probably my fault that he’s had a heart attack. He came roaring back from your flat last night, told me what had happened and we had a blazing row.’

Katy stared.

They’d had a row?

To the best of her knowledge her mother had never answered her father back in the entire thirty-six years of their marriage.

Her father struggled to speak. ‘I couldn’t believe that you and Jago had found each other again and were planning to get married.’

‘We’re not.’ Finally Jago intervened, his tone flat and emotionless. ‘You can relax, Mr Westerling. You’ll be relieved to hear that your daughter has refused to marry me.’

For some reason this seemed to agitate Charles, and Jago frowned. ‘I think that’s enough talk now. You need to relax. Everything can be sorted out later.’

Charles ignored him, gulping in air and staring at his daughter. ‘I shouldn’t have said it. Any of it. None of it was true. He loves you and he always did. And you love him. I suppose that’s all that matters.’