‘Because I want to go to bed now. I think it’s the rum.’ It was better to blame it on the rum than to explain the turmoil he had caused her.

‘I could start getting him into bed any time now but why don’t you go now and get some sleep? I’ll be fine until about four o’clock in the morning.’

She felt a wave of fondness for him. He was being very kind. ‘You don’t have to stay up that long! Let me have a couple of hours and then wake me.’

‘All right.’

Something about the way he said this made her realise he wouldn’t wake her unless or until he was passing out with tiredness. ‘I’ll set my alarm, just in case,’ she said.

He made an indignant face. ‘In case of what?’

‘In case you forget to wake me.’

He laughed. ‘OK, I’ll wake you after two hours or so then.’

When she was finally convinced he wouldn’t take the entire night shift on his own she went to bed.

It was odd going to bed in the little narrow bed he’d been in so recently. The mattress was old and had a dip in the middle, which meant it had a coffin-like feel, but Helena decided it was cosy. The room was full of things cleared out of the living room, probably to make space for Fred’s medical paraphernalia. But underneath the piled-up furniture and boxes she found a cache of Mills and Boon novels.

‘Oh, lovely!’ said Helena out loud and found a couple she liked the look of. But she was asleep before she’d even properly opened the first one.

She was awake as soon as she heard Jago’s tap on the door. She called to him that she was up and pulled on some clothes. She left her hair in a tangle, thinking she could brush it when she was watching Fred.

‘That was quick,’ said Jago, looking at her a bit strangely.

‘I did my best. Now you go and get your head down. The bed is all warmed up for you.’

He didn’t go immediately. ‘I like your hair like that,’ he said.

‘Really?’ Helena didn’t believe him.

‘You know what to do? Help Fred to the loo, get him anything he needs and if he’s too heavy, or anything happens, call me immediately. OK?’

She nodded. ‘On your way, bonny lad,’ she said with a smile and a bad Scottish accent.

The moment he had gone she looked in the mirror. Her hair was a tousled mess but, she realised, it was also a bit sexy. At least Jago couldn’t possibly think she’d done it specially.