Christopher was beginning to wonder if he would ever practice again. The locum work at Romsey had dried up–the missing partner had returned from holiday just in time to deal with the onset of a flu epidemic–and nothing else had materialized. He tried not to think about it too much. Tried not to get down. Convinced himself, in Micawber fashion, that something would turn up. Soon with any luck.

In the meantime he found solace in the fact that his garden had never looked better at this time of year, even if a nagging voice reminded him that he had hardly enough money behind him to retire and take up full-time estate management just yet.

He was forking over a flowerbed by the wall when the voice assailed him. ‘So this is how you spend your time off. Digging up the daisies.’ It was Gary.

Christopher was surprised to see him. He could not recall when Gary had ever been to the Manor House during the day. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Gary during the hours of daylight, except on the rare occasions when he had visited the surgery, and even then it would most likely have been in the evening.

‘I thought you only came out at night!’ he exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here now? You must be really love-sick!’

Gary grinned apologetically. ‘No. It’s not that. It’s something else. Can I come in?’

The day was mild, the daffodils were in full bloom, rippling like a yellow sea, and Gary and Christopher sat on the white bench underneath the yew tree.

‘This is a bit disappointing,’ said Christopher.

‘Why?’

‘I normally only sit on this bench with a woman.’

‘Difficult times,’ said Gary. ‘Be grateful for small mercies.’

‘I’ve thought of you as many things but never as a small mercy,’ confided Christopher. ‘So what are you doing around here, during the day?’

‘Oh, I’ve got the day off,’ Gary lied. ‘Thought I’d come round and take you out for a pub lunch.’

‘Very thoughtful. But I’m not sure I could stomach lunch at the Hare and Hounds–all that cholesterol. And with Tiger…well, you know.’

‘Any news?’

‘Out of danger. Still in hospital on Jersey. They don’t want to move him yet, but Erica called to say he’s regained consciousness.’

‘Thank God! That’s worth a celebration on its own. Anyway, there are other pubs around here, aren’t there? The Seahorse, that’s a good one.’

‘Oh, well, if you’re going upmarket then I’ll join you.’

‘I tell you what, though,’ said Gary, doing his best to sound offhand. ‘I was reading something in the paper that you might know about, but it staggered me…’

‘What’s that?’

‘Well, I was reading about all this illegal trading in body parts. For transplants and stuff.’

Christopher looked startled for a moment. ‘Oh, yes?’