They asked me yesterday if there was anybody they could call to come and help me. Did I have any friends or family members? And the answer was no. My parents died before Elspeth was born, and as for friends, well, I’ve never needed anybody but Sean and Elspeth. As I said to Grayling, they were my life.

And now they’re gone.

The elderly woman has chosen a comfy armchair on the other side of the room. I watch as she fiddles with her handbag. She reminds me of my mother, neat and solid. A woman who had a fresh handkerchief every day though she would rather have died than use it to dry her tears. Emotions were troublesome, according to my mother, they ought to be controlled or else everything fell apart. The woman catches me looking at her and smiles awkwardly. I look away, saving her from the embarrassment of having to initiate small talk. Though my speech has improved, I still find it hard to get my words out properly. The doctors have told me that this is normal and will improve with time and therapy but it still unnerves me.

I can feel the old woman’s eyes on me as I pick up a magazine and pretend to flick through it. Photographs of celebrities blur in front of me along with advertisements for expensive face creams and beach-body diets. I think of Elspeth on our last holiday to Whitstable, delighted because she got to wear her new Hello Kitty sunglasses, and my eyes fill with tears. How is it possible that I will never see her beautiful little face again; feel the warmth of her skin as she presses her face next to mine. ‘Night night, Mummy. Love you all the world and sixpence.’

That was my father’s old saying, passed down to me and then to Elspeth. All the world and sixpence. Oh, my darling girl, I loved you more than that; I loved you more than you will ever know.

I put the magazine down and clasp my hands together, trying to hold it all in.

‘Hello, Maggie.’

I look up and see Claire.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ she says, lifting a fleshy arm to usher me out. ‘Dr Elms was just putting together your discharge papers.’

I stand up and make my way towards her reassuring voice, remembering how it always made me feel better when I heard it in the coma dream. She would talk about the weather, about her two teenage sons and what was happening on her favourite television programme. When I heard her voice I knew that I was safe.

‘Oh, and the team from Lewes Social Services have just arrived too.’

‘Social Services?’ I say. ‘Why are they here?’

‘They’re here to help you with your next steps.’