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REGINALD HILL
A CURE FOR ALL DISEASES
A Dalziel and Pascoe novel
in six volumes
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Harper An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2008
Copyright © Reginald Hill 2008
Reginald Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007252695
Ebook edition © JULY 2015 ISBN: 9780007292738
Version: 2018-06-27
To Janeites everywhere
and in particular to those who ten years ago in San Francisco made me so very welcome at the Jane Austen Society of North America’s AGM, of which the theme was Sanditon – a new direction?, and during which the seeds of this present novel were sown. I hope that my fellow Janeites will approve the direction in which I have moved her unfinished story; or, if they hesitate approval, that they will perhaps recall the advice printed on a sweat shirt presented to me (with what pertinence I never quite grasped) after my talk to the AGM
– run mad as often as you chuse, but do not faint –
and at least agree that though in places I may have run a little mad, so far I have not fainted!
The Sea air & Sea Bathing together were nearly infallible, one or the other of them being a match for every Disorder, of the Stomach, the Lungs or the Blood; They were anti-spasmodic, anti-pulmonary, anti-sceptic, anti-bilious & anti-rheumatic. Nobody could catch cold by the Sea, Nobody wanted appetite by the Sea, Nobody wanted Spirits, Nobody wanted strength. – They were healing, softening, relaxing – fortifying & bracing – seemingly just as was wanted – sometimes one, sometimes the other.
Jane Austen, Sanditon
Then Sir Bedivere cried: Ah my lord Arthur, what shall become of me, now ye go from me and leave me here alone among mine enemies? Comfort thyself, said the king, and do as well as thou mayst, for in me is no trust to trust in; for I will into the vale of Avilion to heal me of my grievous wound: and if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul.
Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d’Arthur
We all labour against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseases.
Sir Thomas Browne, Religio Medici
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