Free The Harder They Fall by Debbie McGowan

moving; it was colder up in the mountains than it had been in Kathmandu, and he was struggling because of this, combined with the thinner air. Andy pretended not to notice his brother’s shivering, so as not to detract attention from their hosts, although he was going to have to say something soon. It was getting worse and, in spite of the spread laid out before them, Dan didn’t touch a single thing, choosing instead to sip at the milky tea, occasionally showing some engagement with the conversation, but he was a bit out of it. When the opportunity presented itself, Andy pulled Michal to one side and asked him if he knew where he could find a doctor, hoping the answer wouldn’t be in Dunche, or it would be as well to wait to get back to Kathmandu. Michal told him that there was a group of German tourists travelling through, one of whom was a doctor, and gave him the name of the family who were putting him up. Andy thanked him and returned to the table, where everyone, other than Dan, was eager to finish the meal so that they could unload the oven, and as soon as she felt sufficient rest time had passed, Zuza started dropping hints, asking how heavy it was, how many people they would need to move it, and so on. Michal was a little more tactful, and played along by ticking her off for her impatience. It made Andy laugh, but he could see how cruel it would be to stay and eat any longer, however delicious the food was, even if it was a bit on the spicy side. He signalled to Zuza that it was time, then held back a moment to get Dan on his own.
    “I think there’s a doctor staying in the village. I’ll sort out for us to go and see him once the oven is off the truck.”
    He expected further protest, but all he got was a shaky sigh and a nod. Dan levered himself up from the stool with the aid of the table.
    “No,” Andy ordered. “You stay there. Let’s be honest, you’re not going to be much use in that state.” Dan sat back down again and Andy patted his arm. “Just take it easy, all right? I’ll be done as quickly as I can.”
    Outside, the Polish couple, along with several villagers, had already untied the oven and were doing an excellent job of coordinating their efforts, thanks to Bhagwan’s bilingual instruction. Inside, Dan folded his arms and rested his head on top of them, slipping forward on account of his fever sweat, until his forehead came to rest against the table. He was in a deep, dreamlike state, but not quite asleep, and could hear the shouting outside, his brother’s voice calling. So much for being able to cope without him. He lifted his head and grimaced, the throbbing in his temples like tiny pneumatic drills, the effort of moving his arms more than he could take, and he yelled out as pain raced up his torso and across his shoulders, tearing through every muscle. OK, admit it, he thought, you’ve got mountain sickness. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Even the fittest people find they can’t cope with altitude. It doesn’t mean you’re weak.
    Andy was calling again, but Dan could do nothing about it. He let his head slip forward once more and stopped fighting.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
UNEXPECTED
    One of those unexpected September heatwaves, inasmuch as the weatherman on breakfast TV had been quite convincing when he declared “light rain across most of the country and unusually cool for the time of year”. Jess hated the way weather presenters used language, missing key phrases with that strange, almost telegraphic speech they have developed over the years, and ultimately getting it totally wrong. So now she was sitting in her office, the windows as wide open as they would go, trying to tune out the car alarm across the road that had been intermittently disturbing the peace for the best part of the morning. She actually called the police this time, out of concern for her own sanity rather than the security of the car in question. Needless to say, they’d yet to materialise. She shrieked in