I STAYED AS STILL as the corpse until the sound of footsteps in the other room jarred me into action. I blinked and found myself somehow on my feet, braced against the overturned table, my stick in my hand and raised to strike.
The footsteps were heavy, but also tentative. They did not crash like Fields’s had. They staggered. I knew who it was even before I heard the voice.
‘Stephen?’
I relaxed, and then tensed again. It would be bad when she came into the surgery. It would be very bad.
‘Boys?’
I couldn’t let her see him like this. I dropped my stick to my side and hobbled out to meet her, my other arm extended in a gesture of peace.
Sylvia had returned to the front hall, her circular face white as a moon, her huge hands grasping at her skirts and shaking hard. She whirled to meet me
