‘I know what you mean,’ Cynthia said. But her face was tight and preoccupied. She had aged overnight, little lines round her mouth.

‘Will it be different now?’

Cynthia glanced round. ‘Different? How d’you mean?’

‘Well – with all this National Health Service thing coming in.’

‘I wouldn’t say all that different, except . . . The doctor who was there when he first came in – I went with your dad, because he couldn’t say anything. He was full of it: said he was proud to be a doctor now, and how everyone’d be looked after. I was in that much of a state I’d forgotten it’d all changed, and I told him Bob was on the panel – you know he’d paid up over the years. So he said that didn’t matter any more, and how if I was taken ill, it’d be free for me too now. I’d just forgotten. I was too mithered. He looked ever so pleased with himself. Here we are, look.’

They turned into the grand, forbidding entrance and walked the corridors to the ward. Em didn’t recognize her father at first. Cynthia led her to a bed just inside the ward, where a stubbly cheeked, grey-faced man lay with his eyes closed.

No! Em wanted to cry out. That’s not our dad!

The sight of him really frightened her. Mom had kept saying he wasn’t going to come home, and she thought it was just her panic speaking. But as Em took a seat by the bed she could see, with a chill to her bones, how ill he was. He was dressed in a pair of green pyjamas that she’d never seen before, and which made him seem more alien.

‘Bob?’ The way Mom spoke, gentle and caressing, nearly broke Em’s heart. For a moment she imagined Norm lying there like that. She leaned forward and touched his hand. It felt cool and lifeless.

‘Dad – it’s Em.’

‘Can you hear us?’ Cynthia asked.

He stirred, and his eyes slowly opened. For a moment he looked at the ceiling, obviously not sure where he was.

Cynthia clasped the hand nearest hers and stroked it. Em heard her father make a noise in the back of his throat, but no words came out. A desperate look passed over his face, and Em swallowed down the tears that threatened to take over.

A nurse appeared beside them, pretty black hair just showing from under her white veil. Em found her awe-inspiring. With a pang she wished for a moment that she could have been a nurse.

‘He’s really not very well today.’ She spoke quietly, to Cynthia. ‘We’re just hoping to see an improvement. But you’re doing the right thing. Do talk to him.’ With a smile she moved away.

Cynthia began to talk to him, telling him they were all getting on all right and that various of his pals had asked after him. Then Em took over for a bit. She was in full flow, telling him about Robbie and his pranks with the other lads, some of which had upset her at the time, but she made them into a joke for his granddad.