He stares at me, his mouth falling open.

‘Well, do you?’ I push with whispered accusation, checking up and down the corridor, craning to make sure there’s no one hovering in my office. I feel as if I’ve let this situation unravel. Have I? Is this my fault? ‘What were you thinking?’ I demand under my breath.

‘Excuse me, Sister.’ His voice is low and firm. He stops, swallows, then begins again, this time a little quieter. ‘I wasn’t thinking anything, actually.’ I signal for him to stop talking as someone walks past and he waits until they’re out of sight. ‘Susan gave me the key. Okay? She handed it to me.’

‘Why would she do that, she barely knows you,’ I scoff.

‘I’m as surprised as you are. I didn’t get chance to ask her!’

I eye him up, trying to read between lines. He looks ruffled. Irritation has replaced his charm, but then I guess it would if you were caught out doing something you knew was inappropriate. ‘She gave me the key, Kat,’ he repeats.

A nurse appears beside us. ‘Do you have next month’s rota yet, Kat?’

‘Erm, yes, I’ll, erm, print it and drop it on the desk later. What time are you in till?’

‘I’m going now, actually.’

‘Ah, okay. Give me a second.’ I paint on a smile, waiting for her to leave.

Rhys looks me dead in the eye. ‘I asked her if she wanted me to pick anything up from the shops. I brought her a notebook – I thought it might help. I was trying to encourage her to write something down.’

‘We’ve already tried the notebook option. She rejected it,’ I tell him officiously.

‘I didn’t know that, did I? And it can’t harm to keep trying, can it?’

I cross my arms, waiting for him to continue.

‘She went into her bag, she gave me the key. I didn’t get a chance to react at all before you’d walked in and made all the assumptions,’ he spits. His arms are folded tight across his chest. ‘I’m just trying to help,’ he finishes, his cheeks flexing.

A cleaner pushes a mop and bucket past us. Rhys and I fake-smile in unison, before looking back at each other, smiles instantly erased. ‘I see.’

His indignation makes me wonder if it’s possible I’ve overreacted. He holds his ground and I begin to feel I’ve misjudged him. I think maybe I should backpedal slightly. ‘Look, just to be clear, I can’t encourage you to visit her home. It wouldn’t be appropriate, okay? We can sort what she needs. Promise me you’ll leave it at that.’

He looks at me, his face hard and cross. ‘Scout’s honour,’ he says.

I get the feeling he’s still pissed off with me. And I also get the feeling he’s justified.

‘Are we done? Can I go say goodbye to her, or do you need to escort me to and from her bedside now?’

The nurse after her rota returns. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘I just – I have to go and—’