“Everything all right?” he asked brightly and it took her a few seconds to respond.

“Yes...the burn is bandaged. We need to go to the GP tomorrow to have the dressing checked.”

“I don’t—” Tina began, but Olivia shook her head firmly.

“No, Mum. You do.”

Simon was kind enough to drop Tina off at her flat, and then wait while Olivia saw her inside, making her a cup of tea and then settling her in bed before she left.

“I don’t want you to worry, Olivia,” Tina said just as she was about to bid her good night. Olivia paused, one hand on the bedroom door.

“Of course I’ll worry, Mum,” she said. “I love you. I want you to be well.”

Tina shook her head. “It would be different if you were married and had your own family,” she said, making Olivia flinch a little. “But you’re all alone. It’s not right for you to have to bear the burden of—of taking care of me.”

“You did the same for me,” Olivia reminded her rather fiercely. “For all my life. And it hasn’t come to that yet, Mum. It’s just a test.”

Tina smiled sadly and Olivia was jolted to her core. The look in her mum’s eyes said as plainly as could be that she knew what the result of the test was going to be.

Back in the car Olivia slid into the passenger seat, her body and heart both aching. It was nearly ten o’clock, and Simon had been waiting in the car for almost an hour.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said dully. “I didn’t realise how long I was taking.”

“It’s no problem.” He started the car and then pulled out into the dark, empty street. Olivia leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, fighting a fear and grief that felt as if it could overwhelm her. “Do you want to talk about it?” Simon asked quietly, making her jerk a little bit.

“Talk about it? Do you know...?”

“I don’t know anything, only that something seems to be going on that’s more than an accident at the stove.” He paused. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I really don’t mean to pry.”

“I know. Thanks.” She took a shuddering breath, wanting someone to confide in, but unsure whether it should be Simon. I barely know him seemed to be her constant refrain, and yet he was the one who had been there when her mum had had her accident, and he’d been the one to drive them to the hospital and wait while she was seen.

“The doctor referred her to the GP for a cognitive test,” she blurted. It almost felt like a relief to say it somehow, to share it. “I have to ring tomorrow.”

“A cognitive test.” Simon repeated the words neutrally.

“Yes.” While her mum had been in the loo Olivia had searched on her phone and scrolled through the ten warning signs of dementia, her heart plummeting with each one. Difficulty comple­ting normal tasks...con­fusion...ap­athy...changes in mood...diffi­culty with spatial orientation, which can result in seeming clumsiness...and accidents. Burns. Olivia swallowed hard. “It’s a test for dementia,” she clarified, and Simon nodded.