So he had been right. Candace was at the back of this obsession with Rhoda Gradwyn. He said, “Dangerous in what way? Dangerous to whom?”

“If I knew that I’d be less worried. You must know something of her reputation—that is, if you read anything other than the surgical journals. She’s an investigative journalist, one of the worst kind. She sniffs out gossip like a pig with truffles. She makes it her job to discover things about other people which give them distress or pain, or worse, and would titillate the great British public if they became known. She sells secrets for money.”

He said, “Isn’t that a gross exaggeration? And even if it’s true, it wouldn’t justify me in refusing to treat her where she chooses. Why the concern? She’s unlikely to find anything here to whet her appetite.”

“Can you be sure of that? She’ll find something.”

“And what excuse would I give for telling her she can’t return?”

“You wouldn’t need to antagonise her. Simply say that there’s been a double booking and you find you haven’t a bed.”

It was difficult to control his irritation. This was an unforgivable intrusion, interfering with the management of his patients. He said, “Candace, what’s all this about? You’re usually rational. This seems close to paranoia.”

She led the way through to the kitchen and began washing the two mugs and emptying the percolator. After a moment’s silence, she said, “I sometimes wonder about that myself. I admit it does sound farfetched and irrational. Anyway, I’ve no right to interfere, but I don’t think patients who come here for privacy would be delighted to find themselves in the company of a notorious journalist. But you needn’t worry. I shan’t see her, either now or when she returns. I’m not proposing to take a kitchen knife to her. Frankly, she’s not worth it.”

She saw him to the door. He said, “I see Robin Boyton is back. I think Helena did mention that he’d booked in. What’s he here for, do you know?”

“He said because Rhoda Gradwyn is here. Apparently they’re friends and he thinks she might like company.”

“For a stay of one night? Does he plan to book into Rose Cottage when she returns? If he does he won’t see her, and he won’t see her now. She made it plain that she’s coming here for absolute privacy, and that’s what I’ll ensure she gets.”

Closing the garden gate behind him, he wondered what all that had been about. There must be some strong personal reason for an antipathy which seemed otherwise unreasonable. Was she perhaps focusing on Gradwyn the two years of frustration tied to a cantankerous, unloving old man and the prospect of losing her job? And now there was Marcus’s plan to go to Africa. She might support his decision but she could hardly welcome it. But, striding purposefully back to the Manor, he put Candace Westhall and her troubles out of mind and concentrated on his own. He would find a replacement for Marcus, and if Flavia decided it was time to leave, he would cope with that, too. She was getting restless. There had been signs which even he, busy as he was, had noticed. Perhaps it was time the affair ended. Now, with the Christmas break coming and the work slowing down, he should steel himself to end it.