‘A frequent occurrence, no doubt,’ he said, following her into the kitchen, ‘and especially now Ralph isn’t here to prod you. How are you doing in that respect, Marianne?’

She put the kettle on and unhooked a couple of mugs from the Welsh dresser. ‘I don’t give myself time to think about it.’

‘Then may I, as a doctor, say it might be better if you did? Eventually you’re going to have to, Marianne, and the sooner the healthier. Burying yourself in work is just putting off the moment when you finally come to terms with your loss and begin adjusting.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind, Ronald.’

‘You do. And could you manage to rustle me up a snack? I didn’t have time to eat before surgery.’

Marianne went to rummage in the refrigerator. How did you come to terms with losing not just your loving companion, but the rock to lean upon you hadn’t appreciated until you lost him?

When they were seated at the table, Ronald munching bread and cheese, and Marianne nibbling a biscuit, he said hesitantly, ‘You’re going to be upset by what I’m about to tell you, but I must. There are signs that Uncle Nat ought no longer to be practising medicine.’

Marianne was unable to hide her distress. ‘Are you saying that he’s cracking up?’

‘If that’s how you want to put it, I’m afraid so.’

But Marianne did not want to believe it. ‘Couldn’t you be mistaken, Ronald?’

‘Since I’m in partnership with him, no. It isn’t that he’s making wrong diagnoses. For that he’s able to rely on his long experience. But there have been a couple of instances of his prescriptions being questioned by the pharmacists the patients have taken them to—’

‘Even young people make the odd mistake,’ said Marianne.

‘Uncle Nat didn’t when he was young, nor did he until very recently. And a doctor making a mistake can be highly dangerous, Marianne. In the two cases I’ve cited, the patients were lucky. The pharmacists had been supplying their drugs for years and rang the surgery to check that the higher dosages were intentional.’

Marianne refilled their mugs with tea and sipped some of hers. ‘Why are you discussing this with me?’ she said after a pause. ‘Oughtn’t you to be talking about it to your other senior partner?’

‘Lou knows about it, Marianne, but he isn’t taking it seriously. He’s Uncle Nat’s age, remember, also his closest friend. He wouldn’t want to take it seriously, would he?’

Marianne fetched a solitary Eccles cake from the old-fashioned larder that led off the kitchen. ‘This is all I can offer you for dessert, Ronald.’

‘I didn’t come for a banquet.’

‘Nor could you have come expecting me to provide a solution to your problem.’