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offered her no end of appointments. She’s fairly new on the list,’ she added.
    ‘Did she say it was urgent?’
    ‘She didn’t use that word.’ Vanessa was unfailingly honest and literal. ‘But she implied she wasn’t leaving until she’d seen a doctor.’
    His first thought was the morning after pill. Levonorgestrel. Not quite as urgent as its name implied. In actual fact you have three days’ grace from the act, but it did bring women scuttling down to the surgery.
    ‘I’d better see her,’ he said.
    He crossed the now empty waiting room and approached her. She looked up and for the second time that morning he read desperation in a patient’s eyes.
    ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m Doctor Gregory. Would you like to come into my surgery?’
    She looked uncertain and he felt impatient. For goodness’ sake. She’d just turned up here. She didn’t look like anemergency. It didn’t seem as though there was a crisis. And he was offering to see her.
    She had a pale face. No make-up, straight brown hair, shoulder-length, tucked behind her ears. Her ears were pierced, he noted, but she had no earrings in. He glanced down at her hands. No rings either.
    ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Cora Moseby,’ she said. ‘I’m registered with Doctor Satchel. Is she here?’
    ‘I think she’s left to do one or two visits. If it’s Doctor Satchel you want to see, maybe the receptionist can make you an appointment.’
    ‘I can’t wait,’ she said very quietly.
    ‘Then why don’t you see me?’ He had on his best friendly doctor air. It usually worked.
    She stood up slowly, picked up a large leather handbag from the floor and walked along the corridor to the consulting rooms. He noticed she limped.
    Once he had held open the door and she’d sat down at the side of his desk, he mentioned it. ‘Pain in the hip? Or the back?’
    She looked confused.
    ‘Your limp,’ he said.
    ‘Yes.’ She looked vague. ‘I do limp sometimes. I’m not sure why.’
    He needed to read her notes.
    ‘So,’ he said briskly, ‘what can I do for you today?’
    ‘I think I’m very anaemic,’ she said.
    He felt a twinge of irritation. This was hardly an emergency.
    ‘Why do you think that?’
    ‘Because I get very tired,’ she said. ‘I can fall asleep at any time. And then I dream. I dream that I am awake and think I see things – people.’
    Mentally Daniel cussed himself for getting involved.
    ‘Let’s deal with the anaemia,’ he said. He looked at her eyes. They didn’t look pale. He checked her blood pressure, took her pulse. All normal. Finally he scribbled out a form for a full blood count and handed it to her. ‘We’ll check up on that,’ he said, standing up. ‘And about the other – well – I think you should come back and see Doctor Satchel a week after the blood test. She’ll have the result by then. All right?’
    She looked even more uncertain. ‘What if I…? In the meantime, I mean.’
    ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t drive until we’ve got to the bottom of this,’ he suggested. ‘And avoid alcohol.’
    She bowed her head and left the room. She left behind a vague scent of something musty, like old clothes.
    Doctors have an instinct for strange people. And the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling. She was weird. Possibly fey, but definitely weird.
Saturday, 22 nd April
    It never failed to annoy him that Elaine refused to bring Holly on the Friday. After all, he’d argued, again and again, both with the solicitor and with her, in his view Friday was part of the weekend.
    But Elaine had stuck to her guns. She was not drivingup the M6, all the way from Birmingham, on a Friday night when the motorway was so busy.
    Holly would have spent all day at school and would be far too tired to sit in the car for an hour or more.
    Besides, she would have the return journey late at night and what if she was working – or going out?
    Wearily, Daniel had offered to drive halfway down the M6 and meet her at the