‘No, but thank you, darling,’ my mother purred. ‘I just wondered if I could retrieve my earrings. This is my daughter Lucy, and my husband, Henry,’ she said, extending her hand as if we were at a drinks party. ‘Becky’s been wonderful,’ she told us. ‘She’s been looking after me. Marvellous girl.’ I was surprised. I realized Becky didn’t even recognize me. It occurred to me then, that when I’d imagined she’d been staring at a screen, online shopping, perhaps, she’d doubtless been madly organizing beds remotely. Or some other urgent medical task. And no lunch break, so just shove in a Curly Wurly. I gave her a grateful smile.

‘Thank you. So much.’

‘I’ll get your sparklers,’ she told Mum with a wink.

‘They’re in the safe,’ Mum told us as the nurse moved on. ‘And Becky told me they’re the nicest things in there. Everything else …’ She shuddered, looking around at her inmates in horror. ‘Well, you can imagine.’ Her voice was a bit louder now. She was clearly feeling a lot better. ‘And this one,’ she hissed, jerking her head at a catatonic woman next door, deathly pale, mouth open, eyes shut. ‘I mean, she might as well be dead. Look at her, poor thing.’

‘Mum …’ I warned nervously.

‘In fact, half of these poor creatures, if they were animals, honestly, no sane vet—’

‘Yes, yes, OK,’ I interrupted hurriedly, wondering if she hadn’t had quite enough saline and should come home now. Quite punchy. Dad was still gulping and staring adoringly, and it occurred to me that this moment might not come again: when he might tell her something rather tender and lovely. Three seemed a crowd, suddenly.

‘Tell you what, to save Becky coming back, I’ll go and get your jewellery from her. Dad, I’ll see you out there. I’ve got a quick phone call to make. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mum. Pick you up early.’