"Thank you, Harry," she smiles as she kisses his cheek, opens the bathroom door, and disappears inside. It was sweet of him to bring her in through the side door so she could tidy herself up before joining the others, she thinks as she begins to assess the damage that her unusual weepiness and their romp in the garden has caused to her appearance, not to mention the hot kisses they've just exchanged outside.
Luckily, there's nothing that a good brush and a little make up can't fix, so it doesn't take her long to complete her task, all the while thinking about Harry and how wonderful it is to finally be able to be with him, love him in every way. She's never felt so good. It's as if her entire life has been building up to this moment, and it makes her realise that she'll move heaven and earth to find a way to make it last longer than the two weeks they have here.
"Ruth!" she hears Jean calling her urgently.
With one last check in the mirror, she leaves the bathroom and walks round the corner into the sitting room, but the sight that greets her almost stops her heart. Harry's lying on the sofa, conscious but trembling, his legs elevated onto cushions piled on the arm rest, a look of fear on his face as he struggles to breathe. Jean's leaning over him and Malcolm stands near by with his phone in his hand, talking to someone on the other end of the line.
"Harry," she calls and rushes over to him, her heart in her mouth as she stops by his side, taking the spot that Jean's just vacated by his head, kneeling beside him. "Harry, what happened?" she asks, taking his hand in hers.
"He just collapsed," Jean answers. "Malcolm's talking to Philippe, the doctor who owns the villa at the top of the hill, and an ambulance is on its way."
"Nico," she turns to her step-son who's sitting off to the side looking scared. "Go bring my first aid kit. Quickly. It's on my bedside table."
"Here," Jean adds, "Take the key."
"Okay," Nico responds, still looking a little scared, but Ruth can see a look of determination appear in his eyes before he grabs the key and runs to the door.
"Harry," she murmurs softly as she turns towards him, stroking his face with her hand. "It's going to be okay, Harry." She can hear Malcolm on the phone telling the doctor in fluent French all Harry's symptoms, racing pulse, shallow breathing, trembling, dizziness, and all she can think is that she can't lose him again.
"Harry," Malcolm asks. "Are you in pain?"
"I can't breathe," he replies as he fights to suck air into his lungs.
"Are you in pain, Harry?" Ruth repeats gently. "Does your chest hurt?"
"No," he chokes out.
"Has this happened before, Harry?" Malcolm asks again after relaying Harry's answer into the phone.
"Yes," he stammers, "Panic... attack."
"It's okay, Harry," Ruth murmurs softly, relieved to hear that it might not be a heart attack after all. "It'll pass. Try to relax. It'll help you breathe."
"Ruth," he whispers. "Don't go."
"I'm right here, Harry, and I'm not going anywhere," she smiles, putting on a brave face for him, "and neither are you. Not now that I've found you again. You're going to be fine."
"Ruth," he murmurs urgently, "I love you."
"I know, my love," she replies, oblivious of everyone else around them as she stares into his panicked, hazel eyes. "I love you too. Relax. It's going to be okay. I promise it's going to be okay." Then slowly she feels him begin to relax, his breathing easing a little, his heart rate beginning to drop, the fear slowly leaving his features.
"Here," Nico says breathlessly as he dumps her first aid kit by her knee.
"Thank you," she murmurs. "Help me open it, please," she adds, reluctant to let go of Harry's hand now that he's began to calm down. He pulls open the Velcro and unfolds it, revealing several zipped compartments. "I need to give him some cayenne tincture," she explains, knowing that if this is a heart attack, it's the only thing that'll give him a fighting chance; the ambulance is taking too long. "It should be in the top compartment." Nico quickly locates the bottle and fills the dropper with the liquid, before unscrewing the cap, pulling it out, and handing it to Ruth.
"Thanks," she says and turns to Harry. "Open up, Harry. This'll help your heart rate stabilize." He obediently opens his mouth and she squirts the content into it, saying, "Try to keep it in your mouth for a bit, under your tongue."
The doorbell rings and Malcolm rushes to answer, letting Philippe enter and leading him straight to Harry. "Bonsoir, Harry," he smiles. "Je suis le docteur Philippe Marceaux. Ne vous inquiétez pas. Vous allez vous sentir mieux. Laissez-moi vous examiner."
"Okay," Harry whispers, and then feeling Ruth relax her grip on his hand, he exclaims, "No! Don't go!"
"I'm not going anywhere, Harry," she smiles. "My leg's gone to sleep, that's all."
"Sorry," he murmurs and a small smile appears on his lips.
"It's good to see you smile," Ruth murmurs softly, feeling the relief wash over her as she realises that he really is going to be okay.
Nico has already collected the first aid kit and moved to stand near Jean who puts a comforting arm round his shoulders and says, "You were great, Nico." Malcolm's also standing near her, holding her other hand and watching apprehensively as the doctor examines Harry. Ruth and Harry are oblivious to this, however, as they gaze into each other's eyes, their hands still linked together as the doctor listens to Harry's heart and lungs.
"Bien, Harry," Phileppe says after a bit and then switches to English, speaking with a strong French accent. "Your heart seems to be beating normally now, so I believe we can rule out a heart attack. Based on the symptoms Malcolm described to me, you've probably just experienced a panic attack. Have you had this before?"
"Yes," he murmurs, lowering his eyes in embarrassment, "twice."
"Récemment?" he frowns.
"In the last three months," Harry replies after a momentary hesitation.
"Well, it seems that we have the diagnosis, but I think that you should go to hospital. I'd like you to have some tests just to be safe, to make sure your heart is strong," Philip continues.
"Surely that's not necessary, Doctor," Harry objects as he slowly sits up. "I feel fine now, nothing that a good night's rest won't cure."
"Harry," Ruth frowns at him before the doctor can reply, her concern over his well-being outweighing any reluctance to cause him further embarrassment since, knowing Harry, she's sure he's feeling mortified at having to reveal that he suffers from panic attacks, something that he assuredly perseveres as a huge weakness, "you're going into hospital."
"But, Ruth," Harry replies quietly, "I'm fine. It was just a panic attack."
"And how would you know the difference?" she asks. "Have you had a heart attack before?"
"No," he admits, "but-"
"But nothing," she interrupts. "I don't care what I have to do to get you there, you're going to hospital, Harry."
"She means it," Nico pipes up.
"You should listen to your wife, Harry," the doctor smiles. "It's for the best."
There's silence for a few moments after the doctor's remark. Ruth's momentarily thrown by it but she soon feels her heart swell at the thought. Even if it was only a panic attack, it was bloody terrifying to see Harry like that, to think that she might lose him so soon after finding him again, and it makes her realise more clearly than ever that she won't stop at anything this time to be with him, build a life with him. Her thoughts are interrupted by Malcolm clearing his throat and murmuring, "Actually, Philippe, Harry-"
"Is a little pig-headed at times, but we love him dearly and we'll make sure that he goes into hospital tonight," Ruth finishes for him as she turns to look at Harry with a soft smile, leaving no one in the room in any doubt of her love for the man before her.
Harry almost sighs in contentment, his breathing deepening and the apprehension in his eyes that had appeared at the doctor's remark dissolving into a look of pure love.
"But fortunately for him," Jean adds with a laugh, "Ruth's as stubborn as he is, so there's no way she'll let him have his own way."
"Speaking of hospitals," Malcolm adds suddenly. "I should cancel that ambulance." He pulls out his phone and walks over to the window to make the call while Harry turns to the doctor.
"Philippe," he says as he stands and turns to face him, "as much as I'd like to please Ruth, there's no need to conduct any tests at the hospital. My first panic attack happened while I was at work, and as you can imagine, I was carted off straight to the hospital where all manner of sundry tests were carried out on me despite my numerous and very vocal protests. My heart is in perfect working order." He squeezes Ruth's hand and turns to her, adding with emphasis, "Truly, I'm fine. All I need is a good meal and some sleep."
She nods her acceptance, reassured by his words, and squeezes his hand with her own in relief.
"Eh bien," the doctor replies as he puts his stethoscope away in his bag, "if this is the way you feel, ainsi soit-il. Needless to say, if you feel any tightness in the chest, or-"
"Of course, Doctor," Harry interrupts. "I'll have Malcolm drive me straight to A&E. Thank you so much for coming and I apologise for having interrupted your evening unnecessarily."
"De rien," Philip smiles. "It goes with the territory, I'm afraid. No one forced me to become a doctor. Bien. Bonne nuit, Harry." They shake hands and Malcolm steps forward, inviting him to stay for dinner and leading him to the front door when he makes his excuses.
Ruth takes the opportunity to walk over to her step son and embrace him before pulling back and saying, "You were wonderful, Nico. Your dad would have been so proud of you."
"Thanks, Ruth," he smiles as he looks down at her (he's already two inches taller than her) and places a kiss against her cheek.
"Where's my glass of wine?" Harry asks the room in general as he looks around for it, making a face before adding, "What on earth did you give me, Ruth? It tastes disgusting."
"I would have thought you'd like it, Harry," she smiles as she turns to face him. "It's about eighty per cent alcohol."
"I assure you that my tastes are slightly more refined then that statement implies, Ruth," he growls, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Sorry," she smiles, not feeling sorry at all, just happy to have Harry back. "It does have an awful after-taste. It is pepper after all." She walks over to the side table and pours him a glass of wine, bringing it over and offering it out to him.
"Thanks," he murmurs and takes a swig before frowning suddenly and asking, "Pepper?"
"Cayenne pepper tincture to be precise," she smiles, "something no first aid kit should be without."
"What does it do?" Malcolm asks with interest, having shown the doctor out and returned to the room.
"It boosts circulation, increases heart action, stabilizes blood pressure, and stops bleeding," Nico replies and there is pride in his voice as he adds, "My dad used it as the first treatment for a heart attack and he always said that it's the one herbal remedy every doctor should know about. He taught all his heart patients how to use it as well, in case of an emergency. Did you know that people have been pronounced dead from a heart attack, and when cayenne extract has been placed in their mouths fast enough, they've come back to life without the use of a defibrillator?"
"No," Malcolm shakes his head, "I had no idea. Looks like I'm going to have to look into that. As you can see, the one disadvantage of our location is the amount of time it takes for the ambulance to arrive and get you to the hospital, and if Philippe isn't home... well, things don't bode well for your chances of survival."
"I can leave you my bottle of cayenne extract when we go home, Malcolm," Ruth offers, "and I think I might have an extra to leave with you Jean, but it's possible to make it yourself. I know I've seen instructions online."
"Thank you," Malcolm smiles.
"Right," Jean says, clapping her hands together loudly and drawing everyone's attention. "Dinner, I think. I don't know about you lot, but I'm starving."