But I can’t think straight, because I’m too busy imagining Amanda and all the other hospital staff dressed up in giant lemon costumes.

‘Anyway,’ Amanda continues, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask, since you were thoughtful enough to bring in your mum’s blanket and cushion, does she have a favourite shampoo? I know it’s an odd question, but I’ve been washing her hair this week and I noticed it smelled so lovely when she came in . . . much nicer than the shampoo we have here . . . and it lasted for so long too! Like magic. I wondered whether you would prefer we use that instead? It’s common among our patients . . .’ She goes on for a while and for some reason alarm bells start ringing in my mind because she seems so . . . concerned.

‘Are you worried about Mum?’ I ask seriously.

Amanda pauses, and then she paints a smile on her face in the brightest colours. ‘I think it’s good for us all to do everything we can to aid your mum’s recovery. Familiar sounds and smells, in particular, can be helpful. Which is why . . .’

I don’t listen to the rest of her sentence because I know what she means. She wants us to do what we can to help Mum wake up.

I think, for a moment, about Amanda’s words.

Sounds and smells.

All of a sudden something in my mind clicks. And that’s when I know what’s missing, because I noticed it every other time I had one of the strange dreams.

I glance at the clock. Dad won’t be any longer than half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes at most.

‘Going already?’ Amanda asks as I stand.

‘I’ll be back,’ I answer, finally smiling at her.

She blinks in surprise. I suppose you would if you’d been talking to a girl who barely said a word for about ten minutes and then suddenly started grinning at you like a maniac.

Back at Mum’s flat I rush to her bedroom and straight for the perfume bottle. It’s purple with glass cut like a diamond, and a heart-shaped gold stopper.

Something happens as soon as I pick it up. A flash of colour.

I apply the perfume to my wrist and rub my forearms together. The smell wafts upwards and forms a cloud. In it I can just about see Aminah and Rawan, the girl from the secret hideaway, chatting together.

But then, like an old memory I’m straining to remember, it fizzles out and I’m left alone in Mum’s bedroom.

I check the clock – half an hour left – and slip the perfume into my bag.

When I get to the hospital for the second time today, there’s a different nurse on duty, and she pretty much ignores me, which is a relief; I don’t have much time.

I pull the curtains shut and begin the ritual.