Entry Four
“Ah, you are awake.”
The gentleman looking down at me had a face ovoid in nature and was, at first glance reassuringly avuncular – and would have been all the more so had I possessed the slightest clue as to why he was leaning over my bed in the privacy of my own cabin.
“Dr Mendip,” he told me, grey-green eyes scanning mine carefully. “I’ve been looking after you since your episode.”
“My… episode?”
“That’s right, Mr Burnside. Seems you took something of a turn while strolling the deck.”
My thoughts raced. I felt a little groggy, that was for sure, but that was the norm for me of a morning and, other than that, I could just as well have been waking to the gentle urgings of my steward with breakfast.
So why could I not remember the “episode” of which “Dr Mendip” spoke?
I w
