Thursday 16th May 1991   Morning surgery 09:39

“Good Morning, Dr Dennis. Thanks for fitting me in at short notice. It’s Malcolm Travis here.”
“Yes, of course, Mr Travis.”
“I’ve brought you these. They’re Cerys Bevan’s notes. You left them in our front room when you came to visit Mary yesterday.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you were in a rush. Quite a lot of visits, you said. Mary is feeling much better by the way.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Anyway, I thought I had better bring the records straight back to you. You wouldn’t want them falling into the wrong hands.”
“Of course not! Thank you very much Mr Travis. Thanks for bringing them in.” My Dad took the notes and looked up at Mr Travis, waiting for him to leave.

Mr Travis sat down. He cleared his throat.
“Mary and I had no idea that Cerys was so depressed. It’s hard to believe she lived just a few doors down the road from us. We must see her 3 or 4 times a week. Neither of us had an inkling of what was going on. We feel like bad neighbours. Mary said it wasn’t surprising that she suffered from severe depression after everything she had been through: 3 miscarriages and 2 abortions within a few years. I can tell you that was a shock, Dr Dennis. She had a violent husband. I think I would have started drinking too much as well. Reading all that, Mary said, made her realise how lucky she was. She admitted to taking me for granted. I don’t think I would have put it quite as strongly myself.”
Malcom Travis paused.
“Anyway, it looked as if Cerys was improving, as if she was getting herself back together. But, then she tried to commit suicide, just 4 weeks ago. I can tell you that floored us both. If it had not been for that inquisitive postman, she would be dead!”
Malcolm Travis took a deep breath before continuing.
“We have done some thinking, Mary and I. We feel we have been self-absorbed as a couple. There is no doubt that Cerys is lonely. Mary is going to visit twice a week. She is good at talking to people. I will go there on a Sunday. I can help out in the garden. Now we know why it’s been neglected. At least something good has come out of this.”
“Out of what?” My Dad asked. I don’t think he was concentrating properly.
“Out of you leaving the records on the sofa.”
My Dad didn’t say anything.
“By the way, Dr Dennis. It goes without saying that neither Mary nor I will mention this to Cerys. We both understand the importance of confidentiality. We know how serious something like this could be. Mum’s the word.”
Malcolm Travis got up, leaned forward and shook my Dad’s hand before leaving the room.

Cerys Bevan’s notes.