I recognised several colleagues but they were all engrossed in conversations with people I didn’t know. Nikki would have barged in and started chatting, but I wasn’t Nikki. I’d made a start. I’d accepted an invite out, and I’d had one drink. That would have to do for now. As I always told my patients, it was about making adjustments, one step at a time. I’d taken my first step.

Opening the heavy wooden door, I slipped outside, hoping nobody would notice and call me back. I was still looking back when I reached the corner and smacked straight into someone, knocking them to the ground.

‘Shit! Sorry! Are you okay?’ I dropped to my knees beside the young woman.

She looked up and smiled. I clocked the streak of cerise pink in her long blonde hair and recognised her as one of the nurses from the hospital. She reached out her hand and I gently helped her to her feet.

‘Nothing broken,’ she reassured me, brushing her uniform down. ‘Although I reckon I’ll have a huge bruise on my arse after that.’

‘I’m really sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’

‘No shit! Where were you off to in such a hurry? Pub’s that way.’ She pointed in the direction of The Dog and Duck.

I shrugged. ‘I know. I’ve already been.’

She laughed. ‘That good, was it?’

I wasn’t sure how to respond.

‘I’m Tiff, by the way. I’ve seen you around but there’s never been the opportunity for a proper intro. Dr Jones, isn’t it?’

She held out her hand which I shook. ‘Yes, but please call me Sam.’

‘Sam? That’s a shame.’

‘What is?’

She gave me a cheeky wink. ‘I was kind of hoping it was Indiana. Oh God! You’ve probably heard that loads, haven’t you?’

I smiled. ‘Once or twice perhaps.’

Tiff visibly cringed. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me. My brother’s a consultant neurologist too and so was our dad before he retired so we have three Dr Jones’s in our family. Makes me feel quite special having an action hero’s name. The connections don’t stop there, either. Sam Jones played Flash Gordon in the eighties classic and my fiancée thinks I look like Chris Hemsworth’s Thor so I’ve—’ I stopped dead. What was I saying? This was the longest non-medical conversation I’d had with anyone since moving to London and I’d just spoken about Nikki as though she was still alive.

‘Are you okay?’ Tiff asked.

I frowned and ran my hand over my stubble. ‘I’m fine. Sorry. I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, Tiff.’

‘And you. You’re sure I can’t tempt you back for another drink?’

‘I’d love to but I’m meeting someone and I’m already late.’