It’s been an extraordinary morning. Juliet is now having a bath (or “swim” as she asked for). Richard was due to arrive with the girls at midday – he came rushing down to see us. Alice was doubled up with period pain on the sofa at reception, with a group of people around her offering advice such as “my father always gave me gin and orange”. Getting hold of a nurse or doctor in a hospice is like flagging down a cab in a London street and soon a doctor was examining her and saying “the Neurofen will kick in soon”. We laid Alice down on the spare bed in J’s room – she was having her bath elsewhere – and Alice soon relaxed. So I went to the pub with Richard again.
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