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light exercise, cuts out the stress and eats a balanced diet, I’m sure the two of you will be celebrating your golden wedding anniversary. Don’t quote me on that though,’ he puts in quickly with a honking laugh that loses him some attractiveness points. ‘Lawsuits and all that.’
    God bless America.
    ‘Of course.’
    We both smile at him, and when he turns his attention to the chart at the end of Piers’ bed, we roll our eyes. Doctor Teddy is pretty, but he’s not Piers.
    ‘How long will I have to be in hospital then?’
    Doctor Teddy scribbles something on his chart. ‘At least another week. Until your chest tubes are out.’
    ‘And when can I fly home?’
    He puts the chart down and grimaces apologetically at Piers. ‘Honestly? Once you’ve been discharged, it will be six weeks at the very earliest, but more like ten.’
    Did he mean to say days ?
    ‘You’ll need to have some follow-up consultations about five weeks after you’ve been discharged,’ Doctor Teddy explains when he clocks Piers’ stunned face, ‘and I couldn’t let you fly if I thought you needed more recovery time. Cabin pressure after your surgery...’ Doctor Teddy shakes his head with a grimace.
    Ten weeks? Even if Piers gets discharged next week he’s going to be here until June or July. There is no way he will cope with doing nothing until then. There’s no way I can return to London and leave him because, if I did, not that I ever would, he’d be working and stressing himself out before my plane even taxied out of JFK.
    ‘ Ten weeks ?’ Piers is incredulous as he echoes the thoughts in my head. ‘What am I supposed to do for ten weeks?’
    ‘Relax and recover, Mr Bramley,’ Doctor Teddy says sternly. ‘I assume you want to live to marry your beautiful fiancée?’
    Piers ignores his question. ‘And I definitely can’t fly home sooner?’
    ‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’
    ‘What about a boat?’
    All I can think of is the fate of Titanic and my hatred for all things nautical. I do not want to take a trip across the Atlantic. Ever .
    ‘It’s certainly one way of travelling back to the UK, but I really couldn’t recommend or endorse it unless you were fully better,’ Doctor Teddy stresses. Poor man. I wonder how many times he’s been hit by a lawsuit.
    Piers looks like he’s about to say something else, but then his shoulders slump forward, defeated. ‘So I’m stuck here then.’
    ‘With me though,’ I say cheerfully.
    I understand his frustration, but I don’t want him to ruin his recovery just so he can get home quicker. Anyway, wouldn’t it be most people’s dream to spend time in New York with no work? They’d probably prefer it if they weren’t recovering from a pleurodesis, but this is a good opportunity for Piers to take stock and work out what he wants to do next. He can’t go back to his job, that’s for sure. He’ll be back in hospital before his first day is done. The financial world is too stressful – especially now.
    ‘Slow and steady, Piers,’ Doctor Teddy reminds him. ‘Your physical therapist will be along shortly to go over your breathing and coughing exercises, and we’ll look at getting that drainage tube out of you within the next few days.’
    Doctor Teddy shoots an apologetic look at me. ‘He really needs to rest, OK? You’re more than welcome to be here. Loved ones really do help patients on their road to recovery, but he needs no stress whatsoever .’
    I wonder if he overheard me telling Piers about Ob’s impending fatherhood and Etta’s brush with the law. I nod, and he turns back to Piers.
    ‘I’ll check in with you tomorrow, but you’re doing well, Piers. Try and focus on that.’
    Piers nods again, but I can tell that he’s already scheming to find ways to travel home sooner. When I go back to the hotel I’m hiding his passport. He will be fit to travel when he goes to the airport, I’ll make sure of that.

Chapter Five
    ‘Ten weeks is ridiculous,’ Piers