“What did the doctor say Mary died of, Alicia?” Giles asked when my sister had composed herself enough to call him.
“Pancreatic cancer! He was the one in charge of her treatment and they"d only met the once. Mary"s private GP sent her to him on Friday morning and he admitted her straight away. All she"d done was notice that she had been losing weight. We both put that down to all her travelling and the fact that she was not eating properly. She hadn"t been sick or anything. He said she had not suffered, Giles. But why did she not tell me she was in hospital instead of saying she had to rush off to Switzerland that morning?” There was a silence from both ends of the telephone. Giles was the first to speak.
“I"ll meet you at Charterhouse Square where we can collect some of your things and
