Good morning. It's four minutes after ten. I hope you had a nice weekend. Football was all right,

wasn't it? Flipping heck. Talk about that a little later, I think. Every now and then a story

comes along that we have to talk about. And I think it's important to talk about. I think it helps.

I think sometimes the temptation to look away from the unthinkable is almost irresistible. But we won't because we spend most of our mornings together now.

And sometimes I think there's almost a sense of discussing it, articulating it,

just dilute some of the horror rather than contemplating it alone

or letting these vile crimes filter through

your own thoughts unaccompanied or uncommented on.

But when that happens, when these stories come along that we're almost compelled to talk

about, I don't necessarily have a great deal to say.

I don't have anything to add or any particular insights to bring to the conversation.

I just like you sometimes feel the need to talk about it, to air it. I call it a talking

cure, do they in some circumstances or is that something a little bit different? I'm interested

in cover-ups and concerns. I'm interested in cover-ups and concerns.

I'm interested in the timeline that is frankly astonishing,

but I'm also interested in...

I mean, understanding seems like an inappropriate word at the moment.

But listen, I think what we're probably going to end up doing is asking doctors and nurses

to tell us how you think this could have happened.

Because I look at the detail.

And there's almost a tipping point in about sort of February March of 2016, where you sort of wonder how on earth Lucy Lettby was allowed to continue doing what she was doing.

But it's not, I don't think, helpful to conclude that everybody involved in that chain of command

...