‘Unconscious, I suppose. I don’t really know, Mr Baines, but I’m sure your wife would; there’d be some difference in the pulse, or the breathing.’

‘Went to bed last night as right as rain.’ He picked up a strip of leather and bent it this way and that between his fingers. ‘Daunts me,’ he said, using what Miss Mayfield had already learned was the Walwyk term for something puzzling, beyond easy comprehension.

‘I hope the doctor will soon come and give you some comfort, Mr Baines.’

He looked at her and said calmly, though he still worried the strip of leather:

‘Tell you the truth, I ain’t as upset as Em is. Syd’s a good strong healthy boy; he’ll pull through whatever it is. The fact is, Em’s nervous these days. Used to be as steady as a rock, but ever since she had them shingles she’ve been fanciful. Take the other night, now; got herself all worked up because Syd’d been round to the Rigbys’. Mostly, if there’s punishment to do, I’m the one to do it. But this time, no! She’d towd Syd to steer clear of Ethel Rigby and he hadn’t, so he hev lines to write, just like in school, if you’ll pardon me mentioning it, Miss. Maybe you don’t howd with writing lines; I don’t meself. When it’s writ once, thass writ, and however many times you do it over, it don’t make it more so. A good wallop is the best way. But Syd got lines to do, and if I towd you why – Em’s real reason, I mean – you’d laugh.’ He leaned over the bench, and his wide thin-lipped mouth stretched in a grin. ‘Em got the notion that owd Granny Rigby can put a spell on you. What d’you think of that? Trained nurse and all. On’y, for mercy’s sake, don’t mention I towd you; Em’d never forgive me.’

‘I won’t. I take it that you, Mr Baines, don’t believe such a thing to be possible?’

‘It stand to reason it couldn’t be. Would God put such power into any mortal hands? And for Em to think that! She’s always been on about village people being so ignorant and backward.’ He broke off and assumed a listening attitude. ‘Ah, I thought so. That’ll be the doctor.’

The car stopped with a jerk at the gate; the doctor climbed out, grabbed his bag, slammed the door and came loping up the path as though he had not a moment to spare. Inside, he recognized Wesley with a curt ‘Good afternoon,’ glanced at Miss Mayfield and dismissed her as of no importance, said ‘Upstairs, I take it,’ and dashed for the stairs. Immediately behind him came Mrs Baines, breathless.

‘Saw the car,’ she gasped, and followed the doctor.