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other,’ he continued. ‘I, too, have benefited from our conversations over the past few years. Continue to believe in yourself and others will believe in you and be influenced by your words and deeds.’
    For the second time that morning, James was speechless. Michael smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Get used to it, James. You have much to offer others.’ His hand patted the shoulder twice. ‘You have a good day now.’
    With that, he turned and went back inside the church, leaving James alone to ponder their conversation.

    * * *

    Barminster was coming to life as James walked down into the market place, with the shopkeepers and stallholders all busy preparing for the day’s trading. He casually wandered through them all, nodding to one or two whom he recognised as patients of the practice.
So far, so good
, he thought, taking a deep breath of fresh air. He sensed that he was at a turning point within his life and it felt good. The jigsaw was slowly coming together. Now there was just the small matter of a practice partnership to sort out and… his train of thought paused for a moment. He was very conscious of the fact that, however in control he was with the rest of his life, he was still unable to fit one piece squarely into this particular jigsaw. It was a matter that cast a shadow over all other aspects of his life. His relationship with Janice was a problem he seemed powerless to influence and for which he could see no practical resolution. He had made his solemn vows and now he had to somehow find a way to live with the consequences.
    â€˜So, God, how do I sort that one out?’ he said, with an imploring look towards the sky.

4

    Bishopsworth, Lincolnshire
    July

    Like a northern outpost of the county of Lincolnshire, Bishopsworth nestles alongside the banks of the River Humber, forming, before the advent of the Humber Bridge, one of the major crossing points for the ferry to the East Riding of Yorkshire.
    An ancient town, its lands are thought to have been once owned by a local Abbey, the townsfolk paying their taxes (or tithes) to the Abbot. Certain historic records suggested that the town had originally been known as Abbotsworth, with the name being changed to Bishopsworth following the dissolution of the monasteries in the 16 th century, the tithes thereafter paid directly to Lincoln where the Church henceforth had its seat of power.
    Whilst there was no doubt that a Roman settlement had at one time been sited nearby, only the Saxon church now bore testimony to the town’s ancient lineage. Apart from small areas of restorative work over the centuries, the church was ten years short of one thousand years old. Around it, with the exception of a few buildings dating back to around 1600 (as the engraved stones above the door lintels proclaimed) the major part of the town had been developed during Georgian times by the wealthy merchants of that era, its narrow streets, imposing, classically styled houses and cobbled market place having since been carefully preserved despite the demands of a modern population. As a result, a sense of timelessness hung over the town and its scattering of surrounding villages, giving visitors the immediate impression of having retreated from the modern world by a period of several years.
    The medical needs of the local population of some twelve thousand or so people were served by a partnership of four doctors, working from premises in what had once been the community school. Although itself an old building in the town centre, the inside had been tastefully converted to provide a spacious, modern surgery from where the GPs had built a thriving practice with a good local reputation.
    It was to this practice that James had come to work as a locum towards the end of January. Initially meant for only a short period of time whilst one of the partners recovered from an operation, there had been complications delaying his full recovery and