That was when he leaned towards me, peering at me more closely. “Nasty ear you’ve got. It needs cleaning up. Here, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you come and sleep in my tatty van? You’ll be snug as a bug in a rug. Baking it is in there. Well it would be, wouldn’t it? It’s what it’s for, the Tattyvan. You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? I’ve got this old van. Looks like a sort of travelling potato, a motorised tuber, you might say. I converted it myself. My Tattyvan I call it, and I’m Mr Tattyvan when I’m out on the road. I’m Joe really, to my friends I mean.

“I go all over the place, baking potatoes and selling them – cheese filling, chilli, coleslaw, tuna mayo – take your pick, I make it all myself. The hospital here is one of my best pitches. Paramedics like Lynn, doctors, nurses, ancillary workers, visitors, patients, they all love my tatties. Well they would, wouldn’t they? It’s good healthy food, and cheap too. But tomorrow’s my last day. Time has come for something different.”

He pulled his bobble hat down over his ears and hugged himself. “I’m fruzzed sitting here.” He got to his feet. “Are you coming then?” He was whistling for me as he walked away. Then he turned round and saw I wasn’t moving. “So you’re going to stay there and wait for her, are you? Loyal, faithful. I like that in a dog. I like that in people too. Just like poor old Paddywack. You’ve got a lot in common you two.” And then he was gone away into the darkness.

I felt suddenly very alone. I liked the gentleness of his voice and his quiet kindliness. I thought I’d seen the last of him but he was back in a few minutes and this time he was carrying a blanket. “Here,” he said, wrapping it around me. “This’ll keep you a little warmer. I’ll be back in the morning. See you then.” And he was gone again.

It was a long and lonely night, and the coldest of my life, only interrupted by the occasional wailing siren as another ambulance drove up. I never fell asleep, not once, because the cold didn’t let me. I kept watch on that door, hoping all the while that Becky would come out, but she didn’t.

By first light Joe was back again and I was so pleased to see him. He brought me a bowl of warm milk, and I lapped it eagerly, filling myself with its warmth. He sat down beside me and rubbed me with his bobble hat until I wasn’t shivering and shaking any more. And he talked to me the whole time.

“What am I going to do with you?” he was saying. “I mean, you can’t sit out here for ever, can you? I could take you down to the rescue centre, I suppose. That ear of yours needs seeing to.” He tried to reach out and touch it, but I wouldn’t let him. “They’d clean it up. They’d look after you, that’s for sure, find you a good home. But you want to stay, don’t you? You want to wait for her.”