Free False Picture by Veronica Heley Page A

which were investigating the remains of last night’s suppers. Bea wanted to ring Maggie’s neck. For one thing, she wasn’t going to be able to get the rest of the flat clean in an hour without help. On the other hand, she wanted to laugh because Maggie really had been rather superb, hadn’t she?
    Bea’s own mobile rang. Velma, sounding controlled and tense. ‘Bea, are you there? Have you got anything out of Philip? The thing is – I mean, it’s a bit desperate – Sandy keeps asking me if he’s all right, and I don’t know what to say. He’s in Charing Cross. The hospital, I mean.’ There was a catch in her voice. ‘We’ve been here all night, because the pains got worse and it’s not indigestion, it’s his heart. They did an ECG last night and that showed something really bad, and this morning he’s been for an angiogram, and it looks as if one of the arteries is getting blocked and … Bea, I don’t want to lose him, I really don’t. Would you mind, if you haven’t anything else on, would you come and sit with me?’
    Still no news of Philip. Rafael decided he’d try Philip’s father tomorrow, even though Philip had said there was no point his looking for help in that direction nowadays.
    Charlotte was moaning that Philip had gone off without paying the rent. If she took it into her head that Philip really had gone missing she’d squawk for the police, and that was the last thing they wanted, wasn’t it? He must get Liam to tell her that Philip had been in touch with him, saying he’d been off on a bender and was skint but trying to sort out his finances.
    If only all this hadn’t happened at the same time as things had blown up at work! The gallery was hosting a show for an artist who had a big following in the north. This would be his first show in London, and it had to go well. Rafael’s boss was demanding his attention twenty-four seven.
    Rafael did some deep breathing exercises to calm himself down.

Five
    Saturday afternoon
    H ospitals are much the same everywhere. Why don’t they upgrade their dim light bulbs? A brighter environment would make everyone feel better.
    Velma was in a four-bed ward, sitting at Sandy’s bedside and holding his hand. There were lines on her face which hadn’t been there yesterday. Sandy was wired up to machines, and his eyes were closed. His big, athletic body looked at once lumpish and limp. When Velma saw Bea, she gave her husband’s hand a pat and said she’d be back in five minutes. She led the way out into the corridor, but stood where she could keep an eye on her husband.
    â€˜How is he?’
    Velma shrugged. ‘They’re moving him in a minute to a side room to keep a closer eye on him. Translation; they think he might pop his clogs any minute. Oh dear!’ She stifled a guffaw. ‘How stupid of me, making jokes when … but it’s really serious, Bea. They want to operate, but they can’t till Monday and then they’re going to have to shove someone else out of the list to make room for him. Oh, Bea! He’s always been so fit. Not like my first.’
    Bea tried to reassure her friend. ‘Sandy’s strong. He won’t let this kill him.’
    Velma blinked. ‘I blame Philip. Sandy got into such a state, worrying. The food poisoning didn’t help, I suppose. If we could just clear Philip of … whatever.’ She gulped. Her hand groped and caught hold of Bea’s, and clung on. ‘I’ll be all right in a minute. I’m not going to go to pieces. Absolutely not. Only, I keep thinking that I ought to pray and I don’t know how. Bea, will you pray for me?’
    Bea thought that she hardly knew how to pray herself, but she nodded. Hamilton used to pray all the time. She’d try to remember how he did it, and do the same.
    Velma was keeping her eyes on Sandy. ‘Have you any good