‘Of course,’ said Linda, her voice breaking.

Alison echoed her. I mumbled something. I don’t know what. I was only aware of the word ‘funeral’ obsessively repeating in my head. Funeral. Funeral. Funeral. I appeared still, composed, but my hands were shaking behind my back.

‘Now, it’s in Kensal Rise, so that’s easy for us all, and it’s at one o’clock . . . So this is what I propose: we have morning surgery. Last patients should be booked for midday. Then we’ll organize cabs for half twelve . . . Linda, can you arrange this, please?’ She nodded. ‘I should imagine the whole funeral and cremation will be done and dusted, if you’ll excuse the terminology, around one forty-five. Then we’ll go on to the wake, which is at a hotel in Kensington.’

‘Very good, Dr Harris,’ said Linda, jotting the information into a notebook.

‘But . . . and there is a “but”, I’m afraid. Dr Stevens won’t be attending the funeral, as . . . well, he never even met Dr Williams, and I can’t close the surgery. So he’ll be here the whole day as usual. And a nurse, of course. Which means, I’m afraid, one of you will have to return after the service to cover reception in the afternoon. Which sadly means not coming to the wake. Now, I think that—’

‘I’ll do it, Dr Harris.’ I raised my hand like an eager schoolchild. ‘I can forfeit the funeral as well if it makes things easier.’

‘Oh . . . well, that’s very kind, Constance. I was going to suggest . . . as you’ve been here the shortest time . . . but excellent. And no, no, no, I wouldn’t dream of you missing the funeral, don’t you worry. I know Dr Williams was most fond of you.’

The only time, ever, Dr Harris had been nice to me, and he didn’t realize that he wasn’t being nice at all. Regardless, I thanked him for his shitty, misplaced kindness, before he returned to his office, Linda in tow.

Back at my desk, I was unable to concentrate. My mood darkened, stress increased, and I could feel cortisol spreading throughout my body. Your dismissiveness towards me, the fear of attending the funeral, the story Alison was telling me about joining a rambling club with Kevin. And when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Linda returned and pulled her chair up next to me.

‘Constance, can I have a word?’

I turned towards her, deadpan.

‘Dr Harris is coming in on Saturday to finish these reports and update the database and needs one of us to work for half a day. Now, Alison and I have already spoken . . .’

I looked at Alison, who moved her head nearer to the computer screen, pretending to be oblivious.

‘And we think it’s only fair you did it as you’ve been off this week.’

‘Off sick.’