‘Gosh, that’s a long way to go to see a doctor,’ she says, screwing her face up.

‘We rented a place there when we first came to Sussex. We were getting some structural work done on Larkfields,’ I say, remembering those blissful few months in the little flat by the sea, me and Sean and Elspeth. ‘And then we just stayed with the practice once we moved. It wasn’t that far a drive.’

‘Yes, but now things are different,’ says Julia. ‘And with your limited mobility you definitely need somewhere closer. Hang on, let me just check something.’

I watch as she takes her phone out of her bag and scrolls through.

‘Yeah,’ she says, looking up. ‘I’m technically not scheduled to start until midday tomorrow but I can book you in as an emergency in the morning. I’ll talk to the receptionist when I get in tomorrow. Shall we say ten thirty?’

I nod my head. This is all happening so fast but my life since I left the hospital has been one long round of appointments. One more can’t hurt.

‘I’ll give you my card,’ says Julia. ‘This has the address on it.’

She hands me the card and I put it on the table.

‘I must say, you’re looking a lot better than you did earlier,’ says Julia, standing up. ‘Your colour’s coming back.’

She smiles at me and I see that flash of red again. Elspeth screaming. Julia must sense my unease because her smile fades.

‘Maggie? What is it?’

‘Nothing,’ I say, getting up from the chair. ‘Just a twinge in my back, that’s all. I’ll see you out.’

‘Okay,’ says Julia. ‘I can take a look at your back tomorrow when you come for the appointment.’

‘Thanks,’ I say as we walk to the door. ‘And thank you again for driving me home. I do appreciate it though I know I’ve probably messed up your plans for the day.’

I take the latch off the door and pull it open, the smell of old cooking fat filling the air.

‘I was glad to help,’ says Julia, stepping out into the dank hallway. ‘See you at the surgery tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ I say, smiling politely.

Julia goes to say something but before she gets her words out Mr Hutchinson appears behind her.

‘Mrs Allan,’ he snaps, ‘have you read the information pack?’

I look at him in bewilderment. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

‘Sorry, I …’ I begin, but he raises his voice over mine.

‘It’s specifically stated in the information pack that all visitors must be signed in,’ he says, gesticulating with his hands. ‘If not, I don’t know what kind of characters might be skulking about the place. Rules are rules. I told that social worker of yours that if you didn’t comply you’d be out.’