She tiptoed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Then she cupped her hands beneath the tap, letting them fill. The water was stale, but its chill eased the dryness in her mouth and settled her stomach. She sat on the closed toilet lid and pulled up her knees, wrapping her arms around them to try to hold them still. Her chin juddered when she lowered it, knocking against her shaking legs and making her bite her tongue. The tang of blood mingled with the chemical taste of the water. She wiped her lips with a handful of toilet paper and stayed where she was, waiting for the shivering to stop.

Rosie still hadn’t stirred when Jem went back into the room. Curled on her side beneath a pile of blankets, she looked content, as if she was satisfied she’d done everything asked of her and she was finally letting herself rest. Jem returned to her bed, but she couldn’t settle, and the sight of Rosie peacefully blowing spit bubbles whilst scrunching her nose just made everything worse. Moving slowly so she wouldn’t start coughing, Jem hooked her oxygen tubing onto a portable cylinder and wheeled it out into the corridor, closing the door behind her. One of the nurses stopped her by the linen cupboard and told her there was a chap at the desk attempting to blag his way past the ward sister.

“Is it my dad?” she asked. He’d spoken to her last night, but he hadn’t mentioned a visit.

“No, a younger bloke in an ambulance uniform. Looks like something was sick all over his shoulder before he came out.”

That narrowed things down slightly, and Jem relaxed, ruling out Baxter as her potential visitor. “It’ll be Kev, my manager. He’s got more kids than sense.”

Kev waylaid her halfway to the nurses’ station, hugging her and then stepping back to appraise her. “I expected worse,” he said. “Bob and Dougie were in bits when they got to station the other night.”

“I can imagine.” Taking his arm, she led him into the day room, where she muted the telly and dropped onto the sofa. “They popped in for a few minutes this morning. Bob ate most of my grapes, once he’d stopped blubbing.”

Kev hefted a gift bag. “The group had a quick whip-round. Everyone sends their best.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Baxter and Caitlin were on mandatory training,” he said, easily catching her drift. “And you’re not to worry about the morphine business. It’ll all come out in the wash.”