The silence that springs up between us is broken by the sound of familiar voices from the door. My dad and Aidan barrel towards us, trailed by the person I suddenly realise I want to see most in the world.

“Mum,” I choke out. “What are you doing here?”

When she reaches me, she grabs me, hugging me tightly, her long red hair brushing my face. I inhale the scent of patchouli oil, and something inside me relaxes instantly.

“Misha rang me last night,” she says. Her warm voice is faintly tinged with a Norfolk accent; she’s spent years living there with her husband on his farm. “I caught the first train this morning, and your dad picked me up.”

I look over her shoulder and find Misha watching me anxiously. He’s right to be wary about making decisions on my behalf, but this time I can’t be angry. He knows me better than anyone in the world, and so he’d understood I needed my mum. Thank you, I mouth.

Relief spreads over his face before he gives me a quick nod and turns to speak to my dad and Aidan.

My mum pulls back and cups my face between her hands. Her fingers are slightly rough and stained with the blue dye she uses to make the blankets she sells in her local galleries. “How are you?” she asks worriedly. “Misha said he was taking you to hospital because the turns had increased.”

“I’m okay, but, yes, they’ve increased by quite a lot.”

Her eyes narrow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Erm, eight months.”

“Charlie.” She sighs and then shakes her head. “I promised myself I wouldn’t lecture you in here.”

“You did?” I say hopefully.

“I don’t know where that tone of surprise comes from.”

“Really?”

A wicked look crosses her face. “I said in here. Pay attention, Charlie Burroughs, because I am totally going to lecture you at a later point, and I’m hoping I’ll have plenty of time to do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d really like it if you’d come back with me and stay for a while.”

“What?”

She grabs my hands and kisses my fingers, something she’s done since I was little. “Please, Charlie. Phil’s getting your room ready just in case. You could stay with us for a month or until you’re feeling better.”

“I can’t take that amount of time off work—”

“You could,” Aidan interrupts in a steady tone. “Misha rang your head office and explained the situation to your line manager.”

“Misha did what?” I turn to find Misha trying to edge behind my dad. “Oh no,” I say grimly. “What the hell are you doing ringing my boss?”

“What you should have done in the first place,” my dad says calmly.

“What?”