There was a discernible skip in Sister Mann’s step as she went about her ward duties, and a small smile played constantly around the corners of her mouth, despite the tragic events that had taken place. Sybil’s sudden disappearance didn’t seem to trouble her much either; she had accepted her patient’s absence due to family illness without any protest.

‘Just so long as Sybil’s back in time for the birth of her baby,’ she cheerfully said to Dora after she had been told of Sybil’s sudden departure. ‘We wouldn’t want her giving birth in Penrith, would we?’

Familiar with Sister Mann’s moody manner and grudging smile, Dora was taken aback by her sudden light-heartedness.

‘What’s got into her all of a sudden?’ Dora wondered.

Even she, a woman of the world and an expert on human character, could never have guessed what an unbelievably miraculous turn of events had recently taken place in Edith’s otherwise drab life. The earth-shattering event manifested itself in the form of a letter that had appeared completely out of the blue. When Edith saw the embossed cream envelope sitting in her staff pigeon-hole, her heart almost stopped beating. Trembling, she had taken hold of it and read her name and address that were written in elegant copperplate, a style of writing that was imprinted in her brain. Charles! Her Mr Charles Lamberty. Clutching the envelope like a precious jewel that might be snatched away from her, Edith had all but run into her office, where she locked the door and leant against it to get her breath back. As she lifted the envelope flap, her mind raced. Was Charles in trouble? Had the scandal she had sacrificed so much to avoid caught up with him? Reeling with nervous excitement, she read:

Mr Charles Lamberty

The Laurels Nursing Home

Granhams Road,

Altrincham

Cheshire.

My dearest Edith,

You may be surprised to note my new address. You see, you weren’t the only one to leave Leeds. Maybe it was your rather abrupt departure, dear Edith, that triggered my transfer too. Be assured that I had no intention of losing sight of you, dearest. Before I left Harrogate, I made quite sure that I had secured your present address from Personnel, who had furnished your new employee with a reference.

I am presently employed as Senior Surgeon in a delightful nursing home just outside Altrincham, very close to the rolling green Cheshire countryside. I am of course with my wife, Beryl, who has taken to her bed with nerves since the move, which affected her very badly. Though domestic life is bleak, my professional life is deeply satisfying, the work is challenging and interesting; it is (to be blunt) my private life which suffers. To come to the point, Edith, I miss you and the occasions we spent together.