If I spend much more time here, they’ll be inviting me to staff functions, I thought to myself as I hurried to cardiology. I was dressed casually, jeans and jacket over a long sleeved top.

I spoke to one of the nurses and was directed to a bed at the far side of a four bedded unit. There in pyjamas I knew weren’t his, was my boss and adoptive father. I had an overnight bag full of his pyjamas, dressing gown, slippers, toiletries and shaving gear. Even though Tom had a beard, he kept it trimmed.

I also had a couple of books and a miniature of scotch whisky. He was dozing when I arrived, so I set to organising his locker and his cupboard behind–wardrobe would be too grand a term for a small wall cupboard in which one could hang a few clothes. The locker has a small cupboard and a drawer in which more essential stuff can be stored.

I found his wallet, and checked that it looked undisturbed. It did. I put his nightclothes away, and his other things in either the cupboard or the locker. When I’d finished I sat down beside his bed and touched his hand.

“Typical bloody woman,” he said tersely.

“What is?”

“Not what, who–”

“Okay, who is?”

“You is, Missy. You tidy my bloody locker before you come to see me.”

“You were asleep,” I countered.

“I wisnae, I was keeking at you. Whit are ye gonna do with my wallet?”

“I can leave it if you like, but it won’t be there if you go down for tests. I thought, if you kept so much money with you, and I’ll take the rest home.”

“Aye, a’richt.”

“Anyway, apart from talking like someone out of Oor Wullie, how are you, Daddy?”

“I’d hae been fine if some interferin’ young nyaff hadn’t decided to keep me alive until the ambulance got there. Noo, I’ll hae to read more stories to her bloody children.”

“You ungrateful old buzzard,” I said, noticing the twinkle in his eye, despite his illness, he was determined to show some spirit.

A nurse came over to us and said, “If you can’t behave, lady, you’ll have to leave; we can’t have you upsetting our patients.”

“She’s no upsetting me, she’s the one who kept me alive long enough to get here. Nurse Rachel, meet my daughter, Cathy.”

The nurse nodded at me, but her eyes were less than friendly. I smiled a very superficial smile back. It wasn’t worth me upsetting her, she could make Tom’s life difficult–although I also knew he could do the same to her. He may be an old man, but he’s a very articulate and clever one, with some very powerful friends.

“So how are you doing?” I asked.

“I’ll be fine in a day or two. I want you to ask Pippa to bring or send my correspondence in, so I can keep things ticking over.”

“No, definitely not. You are here to recuperate–not work.”

“But, I’m fine, it was a tiny wee clot, they’ve shoved me full of heparin to disperse it. I’ll be okay.”

“The problem is a big clot.”

“What are you talking about?” He was talking English again–thank goodness.

“You, you big clot, you're here to get better. If I hear any more about you working, I shall forge your signature on a letter to the dean giving in your resignation.”

“He’ll know it’s not from me.”

“I’m a good forger,” I wasn’t but he didn’t know that.

“We have an agreement, I promised not to live too long, and he’d let me die in office.”

“That was before you had other responsibilities.”

“Whit responsibilities?”

“Your grandchildren.”

“Grandchildren?”

“Yes, Mima and Trish.”

“Are ye adopting them, then?”

“That’s my ultimate aim, or very long term fostering.”

“Simon told me you’d won your case for Mima.”

“I thought it might cheer you up.”

“Aye it did.”

“Trish went and spoke to the judge by herself.”

“She whit?”

“She followed the judge into his chambers and talked to him alone.”

“But she’s not even five years old, she’s jest a bairn.”

“I know, but she explained what she wanted and how unhappy she was, and he’s promised to have the home allow her to stay with us until we can apply to foster her.”

“She’s going to be quite a lassie, that one.”

“That’s what the judge said.”

“Aye, ye’ll have to watch her. She reminds me of my first Catherine and, to lesser extent, of you.”

“I’d never have had the nous to talk to a judge as a five year old.”

“That’s whit I mean, but my Catherine would hae.”

“I’m afraid I don’t believe in gods, let alone reincarnation.”

“Aye, I know, but sometimes the coincidences seem striking.”

“That’s all it is, and because you’re sensitised to it, so imagine it’s something more.”

“So, I’m just being a silly old fart, when I believe that God sent me an angel, to replace the one I lost, am I?”

“If that’s what you wish to think, that’s your business, but seeing Trish as an angel, except in the cutesy stakes, is wishful thinking, in my opinion.”

“Trish? Trish? I was talking aboot you, ye knuckle heid.” The old buzzard made me blush twice over.

I held his hand and he squeezed it. “Looks like I owe you my life, like all the others do.”

“No you don’t, if it’s owed to anyone it’s the teacher we had at Sussex, who taught us basic life support. But you don’t owe me anything, I’d have done it for anyone, as would you. Besides, you took me in when I was at rock bottom, so I think we’d be quits, if anyone was counting.”

“Cathy, when I took you in, we needed each other. I needed you as much as you needed me. I needed to find something beyond my work. I’d been on my own so long, I needed someone as well as my work to live for. You provided that incentive, reminding me so much of my Catherine, but different enough to be yer ain woman.”

What could I say? Was this just a fright, causing him to be so effusive? I know he was fond of me.

“I look upon ye as my daughter, as ye ken, so if anythin’ should happen to me, my solicitor’s address is in my personal file in the locked filing cabinet in my study.”

“I don’t need to know this, Daddy, you’re going to get better and live for years yet.”

“Aye, I intend tae, but in case my plans gang aft a-gley, to quote the bard.”

“What Shakespeare?”

“Nah, Rabbie Burns, a real poet not some part time ham and writer of plays.” His eyes twinkled so I knew he was trying to wind me up again.

“Can we talk about this when you feel better?”

“No, I need to say this now, in case I don’t get better.” I felt myself feeling very sad, and tears filled my eyes, the thought of losing him was unbearable. He’d only been part of my life for a couple of years, but such a part–an immeasurable part. “Don’t ye get all weepie on me, I feel bad enough as it is.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Do I hell? No, I want ye tae stay.”

I looked up in time to see a familiar figure walking towards me–the dean. I didn’t want to stay while he was there. “You have another visitor coming, I’ll go for a cuppa and come back in half an hour or so.”

Tom looked up and saw who it was, “Aye a’richt, but mind ye come back.”

I kissed him on the cheek, “I promise, Daddy.” I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine back.