‘I don’t think that should come into it. If you want to do it, then the sooner the better. Extra money’s always useful, but we don’t really need it. If you’re good at something worthwhile, there’s a satisfaction in doing it. That’s what’s important. I reckon you should seriously look into it.’

‘Alison’s got it all at her fingertips.’

‘That’ll make it easier, then,’ said Pearly. ‘I won’t need to go to the doctor any more. You’ll be my private physician.’

His own life was so busy, his focus so much on himself, that he was hazy concerning a great many of Helen’s hopes and concerns. Proximity in itself is no guarantee of understanding. Pearly realised that Alison’s visit had raised a matter of consequence. He resolved to be as supportive and caring as his wife deserved, and was pleased with himself for this consideration.

Pearly rang Rob Prendergast before settling to work in his study. Jill answered, and he was glad of that: it enabled him to get an informed view of her husband’s illness before talking to Rob himself. ‘He gets so tired,’ said Jill. ‘Runs out of puff so quickly, and he finds that frustrating. The treatment’s knocked his appetite too. He says everything tastes the same. He gets quite grumpy about it all. I’ll get him for you in a moment.’

‘What’s the treatment?’ asked Pearly, after hearing more. It was a direct enough question, but Pearly was motivated by concern not curiosity, and knew Jill well enough to assume she would recognise that.

‘They’re throwing everything at it. Radiation and chemo. You name it, he’s had it. But anyway I’ll put him on. He’ll be really pleased to hear from you.’

Rob made an effort to be upbeat about his health, turned the conversation soon to his involvement with the library and museum, but even over the phone it was evident his was a brave pretence, for what else could there be in his life but the preoccupation with staying alive? Pearly was saddened by the conversation, but nevertheless pleased that he’d rung. Helen came to the study door. ‘Not good,’ he said in answer to her unspoken inquiry. ‘I don’t like the sound of it one bit. I’m going to get a formal letter sent thanking them for all the volunteer work, otherwise it’ll be too late.’ He put on his glasses in readiness for using the laptop to find information concerning the increase in maritime container trade, then called out as Helen went back to the living room. ‘And I must get a check-up myself. It’s ages since I’ve been. It can’t be good to go to the doctor only when something goes wrong.’

‘You’ve got a constitution like a horse,’ she said.