‘I wonder if I could recommend something to help you sleep? You know, it’s not just your body that has been injured.’ Carradine was solicitous and measured. He reached into his desk and took out a piece of paper on which he wrote a prescription. ‘You have suffered a severe trauma, and it will take time before the scars in your memory begin to heal. I’d like to see you again in about ten days. Then I will take those stitches out, and we can discuss our plan of action. In the meantime, you should talk about what happened to you – to your mother, to your best friend, to your boyfriend. Whoever you trust and love a great deal. That will make the most difference.’

She left the consulting rooms like a sleepwalker, following Marina to the corner of the street, climbing into a taxi and slumping back in the seat with her eyes closed. They stopped at a chemist and picked up the prescription. At the flat Marina sat down with her daughter and took her hand.

‘Darling, it’s going to be all right. The time will go quicker than you think. Edward was so positive. He wouldn’t give you an opinion that was false in any way.’

‘I know. I’m sure he’s just as wonderful as you say. And when I’ve thought it all over I’ll be very glad that he’s going to take care of me. I’m grateful for everything, Mother. I really am.’

‘Would you like to do something relaxing this afternoon? Take your mind off all this and escape for a few hours? We could go to a film, somewhere comfortable like the Curzon.’

‘No. I think I’d just like to read a book, have a long bath, go to bed early. And I’ll be able to sleep with these pills, if your doctor friend is right. I’ve got to spend a night on my own, Mother. I need to do it and I’ll be fine.’ She was too weary to press the point further and relieved when Marina rose and kissed her.

‘All right, darling. I’ll let myself out. Bye.’

Camilla made her way into the bedroom before Marina could change her mind. She stood looking out of the window, overwhelmed by a presentiment of loss, knowing that she was not really ready to be alone. Marina had reached the front door when the telephone rang, and she turned back to answer it.

‘It’s Sarah Mackay,’ she said as Camilla emerged from the bedroom. ‘Here’s the phone, darling, but don’t talk for long. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Camilla described the doctor’s appointment, and the slow process that lay ahead.

‘What about your father?’ Sarah asked. ‘He’ll help you through all this.’