‘I doubt it!’ The man laughed. He faced Viola now to deliver his final dismissal of her mother. ‘The greatest lesson I learnt from my training on the mainland was that doctors there go looking for problems where there are none. Live your life, Mrs Kendrick, that’s my advice. First, because worry is the biggest killer, and secondly, because Lark does not suffer malingerers. Now!’ He angled a single eye to pin down Viola. ‘Word has reached me, Miss Kendrick, that you are also claiming a sickness that is keeping you from your island duties?’

Viola’s mouth fell open.

‘One that is,’ the man continued, ‘keeping you from school?’

‘She is at school.’ Deborah Kendrick spoke more forcefully for Viola than she had for herself. ‘This is her school.’ They all looked to the papers and clutter spread across the battered kitchen table. The doctor extracted his stethoscope from the chaotic scene, winding up its tail and posting it into the stretched-wide jaws of his leather bag.

‘Your mother has been given a clean bill of health.’ He spoke as if Deborah Kendrick were no longer there; his business now only with Viola. ‘But you, young lady, have a consultation outstanding.’

‘What for?’ Her mother rose from her seat, inserting herself into the exchange, her voice combative, frightening to Viola.

The man turned to face his challenger, retaliating with condescension. ‘All young girls on the island are given a routine check-up when they come of age, Mrs Kendrick. It is our civil duty to them.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ she replied. Viola watched her mother grip the thick edge of the kitchen table to still her shaking hands. ‘And what about the boys, then?’

The doctor held Deborah’s gaze. Viola was sure she saw her mother’s mouth twitch into the beginnings of a triumphant smile, and willed for it not to come, in case it should provoke a violence.

‘The boys too,’ the doctor said flatly, eventually.

Deborah’s face fell. The tension was released – though no one was satisfied. He made for the door.

‘My surgery is on the south elevation,’ he told Viola coolly, on his way out. ‘You’ll come and see me there, tomorrow, in the afternoon, four-thirty.’

Viola automatically nodded.

‘You will not,’ her mother instructed, once the Land Rover had swung across the yard and growled away down the track.

‘Why not?’

Her mother ascended the stairs for a nap, one that would likely extend late into the evening, merging with bedtime.

‘Because that doctor…’ said Deborah Kendrick, leaning over the bannister, releasing her hair from its scarf as she chose her words carefully, ‘… is not a nice man.’