be here,’ she promised. ‘Don’t rush on my account, Daniel. Patients come before personal matters in the life of the GP during surgery hours.’ And when he glanced at her sharply she managed a smile. ‘I know I’m not a GP yet, but I’m hoping.’
It was Elizabeth Ackroyd, the oldest inmate of Furzebank, that he’d been summoned out to see, and when he saw her Daniel’s expression was grave. She had been a highly intelligent woman and still was to some degree in spite of her ninety years.
She had sacrificed the chance of marriage or a career to look after younger brothers and a sister when they’d lost their mother while only young, and she had outlived them all.
Elizabeth had been at Furzebank four years and until recently had been well and happy. Until an elderly widower that she had become very close to had died suddenly and the will to live had left her.
The first time Daniel had been called out to her, he hadn’t been able to find anything organically wrong with her. Helen, the sister-in-charge, had nodded her agreement, and told him that Elizabeth had said to her that she’d found the love of her life seventy years too late, and that she would die of a broken heart.
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