He’s such a lovely man, Mr Williams. For thirty years he’s owned the card shop opposite the village Post Office. His only daughter, Grace, was a friend of my sister’s at school. His wife, Barbara, had been a stalwart on our local community council. Grace now lives in Australia, and Barbara only in his memories.
Nothing had been said to me of course, but the look on her face as she scanned down his results had told me everything I needed to know. Back at my desk I’d set up this morning’s appointment straight away.
A green light flashed on my console.
“Mr Williams, Dr. Francis will see you now.”