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that she missed him—for she didn't, not any longer, not in the way that Simon assumed. She drank her coffee, draining her cup, and even that tasted bitter. Desperate to break the silence, she enquired about his parents. 'Did your parents get off all right—on holiday, I mean?'
    'They did, yes.' He sat back in his chair, folding his arms. 'I ran them to Gatwick last night, both of them thrilled at the thought of three weeks' idleness in one another's company. They'll be celebrating their ruby wedding in Corfu.'
    'Forty years of marriage!' Anna's voice held a note of awe.
    'More than most couples of our generation are likely to want to achieve. Most find the marriage state fettering; it's not for everyone. I, for instance, was glad to get out of it.' He swiped at a wasp and missed.
    Pity you ever got in it, then, Anna was tempted to retort, and what about his wife? Had she felt fettered, or had she been left desperately and frantically wondering where she'd gone wrong? She felt angered by his attitude, his male attitude. No wonder his marriage had failed. 'Have some more coffee,' he was asking her, and she felt that he was closing the door on further talk about marriage, and a good thing too.
    'Thank you, but no.' She half rose. 'I ought to be getting back.'
    'Of course, and I'll take you...' he unrolled himself, and stood up beside her '.. .but first let me show you my consulting-rooms; I'd like your view of them.'
    Best-quality flannel, she thought, still feeling ruffled on behalf of all womankind. Still, she couldn't be rude to him here in his own house, and he couldn't have known that his comments on marriage were such a sore point with her.
    His rooms were attractive, airy and light, even welcoming. There was nothing dark and looming and gloomy, not even in the examination area with its couch and trolley and glass-fronted cabinets. The pictures on the walls were of country scenes; there were vertical blinds at the windows. In the secretary's office a fuschia in a pot graced one of the sills. There was a word processor too, Anna noticed, as well as a fax and a copier. 'Does your secretary work full time?' she asked, going over to look at the plant.
    'In hours, yes. She works six half-days, sometimes a little more. I see patients in the early evening and on Saturdays; I need her to chaperon then.'
    'Do you ever have to cancel appointments—I mean because of the hospital, if there's an emergency admission?' She walked back to his side.
    'Occasionally, yes, but not often. Bill Corby's a tower of strength, but if it does happen Miss Benson has to do what she can to stop a patient arriving or placate them if they're here. She was a theatre sister at the Regent, you know, till she had a skiing accident about ten years ago and injured her back, which put paid to a standing job. She's close on sixty now, but doesn't want to retire.'
    A mature nurse/secretary. Anna took this in, a curious feeling of light-hearted relief taking hold of her. She commented again, almost fulsomely, on the pleasantness of the rooms as Simon held the door wide and she passed through to the landing and stairs.
    'They weren't like this when I took over,' he was saying, but got no further for, before his eyes and without warning, Anna was crashing down on the floor, whilst a yelping, hysterical Buzz went streaking down the stairs. 'Anna ... Anna!' Simon swooped to lift her up but she was already scrambling to her knees, and managed— without his help—to get to her feet, breathless and shaken, pushing her hair off her face.
    'Buzz... I fell over him... Is he all right?'
    'Never mind about Buzz. Are you all right?' He held her upright, his hands on her upper arms.
    'I'm fine, just fine.' And now she could laugh. 'Good thing you've got a soft floor!'
    'What a fright you gave me, "disappearing'' like that!' He sounded as shaken as she. He was still holding her arms, but differently, his hands moving up her shoulders and inwards to her neck under her bell