He dared not draw breath. How would she react to the news that while she was desperately trying to sell the last few remaining seats at her function, Gemma had already sold all of her tickets? The Dame breathed deeply. She sat stock-still for what seemed to be several minutes, staring at, but not seeing, the pages in front of her. Eventually she placed her hands on the granite tabletop and struggled to her feet. Her pallor was grey. ‘Dame Frances?’ Julian said. ‘Are you okay?’ She ignored him and, pushing the chair back, picked up her cane and turned to face the living area. Her breathing became louder; she winced and touched her chest. She took two steps away from the table then, to Julian’s horror, crumpled to the floor. ‘Dame Frances!’ Julian called out and rushed over to her side. One arm was caught at an awkward angle under her body. The other arm was slung out, reaching across the room, her fingertips skimming the cane.
