I watch him check Susan’s traction and listen as he chats through the next phase of her care. She no more responds to him than she has any of us. When he leaves, she puts the pad down and reaches for her handbag.

‘So as I was saying,’ I venture. ‘I just thought I’d bring the notebook in and you can use the book for whatever. No pressure. I’ve got a Sheffield Star too. It was that or the Daily Mail, so, you know.’

Her fingers nimbly unbuckle her bag and she reaches in, pulling out a key. It’s a simple, silver Yale that hangs from a thin strip of pink ribbon. She holds it out and it swings from her finger.

‘What’s this?’ I ask, not taking it from her.

She reaches for my hand. It’s the first time we’ve touched. Her hands are cool and soft – creamy, like good quality bond paper. Like Nanan’s; she’d take my hand and pat it each and every visit. Susan places the key in my palm, moving her fingers to take hold of mine, curling them over.

As she does, Kat appears. ‘Hi, Rhys. Mr Barnes said you were back.’ She’s smiling at me as she reaches for Susan’s notes. Susan pulls her hand back to the bed, my fingers unfold and her key sits in plain view on the palm of my hand. ‘What’s that?’ Kat asks.

‘A key.’ I wonder if the sudden heavy beat of my heart in my chest is guilt or an unexpected coronary. I guess I could be in worse places.

Kat looks at the key. ‘What’s it for?’‘I’m not sure.’ I look to Susan. ‘I think it might be to her house. Is it?’ I ask. ‘Is this a key to your house?’

Susan blinks.

‘Oh, I don’t think…’ Kat reaches out, snatching it from me. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she says, shooting me a look that suggests I’ve just been busted for manipulating a patient. My inner injustice alarm sounds but I bite my tongue, for Susan’s sake. Kat gives the key back to Susan, who duly drops it back in her handbag, leaving the bag on her lap. ‘We can provide anything you need, Susan. If there are things you need from home, I’m sure I can arrange someone from here to collect them for you.’

Susan looks down at her hands, neatly placed upon her bag.

‘I’m sure Rhys is very busy,’ she says, and I bristle at the suggestion she is taking this choice away from both Susan and myself. ‘Do you have a minute, Rhys?’ Kat asks briskly. Her face is steely and closed. Even passing through detectors in airports, I feel like a criminal, so despite the fact I’m irritated by her judgement, I suspect I look as guilty as hell.

Chapter Fifteen

KAT

Furious, I pull him to one side, my arms crossed. ‘Whilst we do appreciate your help with Susan, I don’t think it’s in any way appropriate for you to take her house key, do you?’