Dr Gaskell pulled the chair close to the bed. ‘Sister will bring me your notes in a minute,’ he said, ‘but I can see you’re a bit worried, so I thought that as you’ve been assigned to me as my patient, we should get to know each other a little first. Now, tell me, what brought you in here to my ward? And if you can just take a moment to think, when did the problems start?’

The patient rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow. ‘I’m not sure really – the missus, she knows. I just got weak and went off me food, you know. I just didn’t fancy anything, and when I did eat, I got that full, I didn’t enjoy it. The gaffer sent me home, said I was no use to man or beast if I couldn’t catch a rope, and that’s how I ended up in casualty. The missus is worried about the rent, so she brought me straight here. I’m not due to retire for another five years, got no pension until then, you see, Doctor. I need to get back to work.’

Dr Gaskell’s heart sank. He’d heard every story of hardship there was and not one had failed to touch him. ‘Tell you what, do you fancy a cuppa and a custard cream? I think I’ll follow that lot to the kitchen and bring us both back a nice pot of tea. Don’t you go anywhere, I’ll be five minutes.’

Half an hour later, Dr Gaskell was sitting at the doctor’s desk in Sister’s office, filling out a request form for the pathology lab, when Nurse Brogan bustled in. ‘Oh, sorry, Dr Gaskell,’ she said. ‘I thought the ward round was over, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

Dr Gaskell looked over the rim of his glasses. ‘Nurse Brogan, isn’t it?’ he asked.

‘Yes, ’tis me. I’m the easy one to remember. If you can’t do it on the red hair, you can get me on the accent.’

They both laughed. Dr Gaskell was the consultant every nurse at St Angelus adored. Many of the doctors, such as the surgeon Mr Mabbutt, were aloof and would only speak to a nurse if they were either shouting at her or barking out a command. But Dr Gaskell was different. Every nurse said the same: he spoke to each of them as a father would to a child, and he was like that with all of his patients too.

‘I will always remember you,’ Dr Gaskell said. ‘You nursed Dr Marcus with such kindness.’

She could practically see the idea forming in his head.

‘Nurse Brogan, we have another case, almost the same. The patient admitted this afternoon into bed five, he’s almost a carbon-copy diagnosis, as the X-ray taken in casualty shows. Only I’m afraid this patient has just days, a week at the most. Do you have much longer on male medical?’

Dana looked towards the light-box and the X-ray that glared the obvious out at them both. ‘I do, Dr Gaskell, why?’