‘Hear that, Tony?’ she called to her colleague. ‘They eat their Christmas dinner on the beach!’

‘Well, we maybes have our dinner at teatime. You don’t want a roast on the beach.’

‘Be nice though, to celebrate outside.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ said Stephen.

As much as he didn’t feel he was deserving of her kindness, it was a balm. She was a nice lady. Nice, like his mum. Not like all the complicated people he’d been with this summer.

At the hospital he was wheeled in across a waiting area, where a handful of people were sitting on orange plastic chairs. One of them was moaning. He hoped he might catch a glimpse of Cass and Georgie, but they were nowhere to be seen. He was taken straight to a cubicle.

‘Perk of coming in with us lot, you get seen first.’

His friend patted him gently on the shoulder.

‘Right, well, they’ll look after you from here. Remember us when you get home and you’re in your paper hats, pulling crackers by the sea,’ she said.

Stephen felt his eyes fill with tears again. He didn’t want her to go.

‘There’ll be a nurse along to see to you shortly,’ she said.

‘My mum’s a nurse,’ he said.

‘Well, there you are then. You’re one of us.’

Once she had left him, Stephen could no longer keep down the sobs which had been banking at the top of his chest. He didn’t have a hanky with him, so he wiped his nose on his sleeve, then rolled the fabric over so no one would see.