PROLOGUE

      ‘Hello, Reg,’ she said as she approached. What an old-fashioned name Reginald was for someone his age; it didn’t suit him at all.

      ‘I thought you’d come,’ he said, not looking up.

      She loved his voice and his economy with words. Reg had always been able to comfort her even when he was silent, which was most of the time. ‘Can I sit with you?’

      She knew he smiled but he wouldn’t face her. Her question did not require an answer, nor would he waste the breath to give her one. ‘How are you?’ she said, sighing as she lowered herself next to him.

      ‘Same as yesterday.’

      ‘Grouchy, then.’

      ‘Not for you.’

      ‘I’ll take you in any mood, Reg, you know that.’

      He looked around at her and after the unhappy morning she’d just had, which included watching a patient die, she felt instantly comforted and secure to see his sad, gentle face, buried beneath his straggly beard and the grime of his working day. She had long suspected that Reg liked to hide behind his longish, nutbrown hair, his hat, even that wretched beard, but try as he might, he could never hide his eyes. Intelligence—far more than he let on—lurked within those grey-green eyes that noticed everything and yet invited few people into