She nods. ‘The X-ray, honestly. His kidney looked like a hail storm, with one really big stone blocking the ureter. That’s how I feel. Like I’m calcifying within and all the emotions are blocked up. I don’t feel anything except adrenaline rushes.’

I haven’t seen her this vulnerable since her ectopic pregnancy. ‘I know you’re tough as old boots, but that sounds a lot like burnout.’

‘Burnout? Since when is that a real thing?’

‘Since I had it.’

She shakes her head. ‘That was different.’

‘It looks pretty similar from where I’m sitting, Kerry.’

‘You were in the wrong job.’

‘And this is your dream, I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help. Talk to your mentor. Ask his advice.’

‘Ha. I did already and he told me, there’s no “u” in team  . . . Well, there is a “u” in “cunt”.’

It makes me laugh, but upsets me too. This isn’t the Kerry I know. ‘You need to make time to switch off. Have you tried yoga?’

She laughs so hard that curry almost comes out of her nose. ‘No, but I’m starting Anaesthetics in a fortnight, perfect for chillaxing. Unconscious patients, regular theatre hours.’

‘You’ll be bored.’

‘Yeah. I’m actually thinking I might do a sabbatical after this year’s over. Go back to SA, maybe?’

‘Please God, no.’ When Kerry was doing her elective in a trauma department in Johannesburg, I worried about her the entire month, imagining she’d get caught up in one of the incidents that makes the city the ideal place for learning how to handle gunshot wounds. ‘There must be some other way to get your adrenaline fix.’

‘Syria?’

I shake my head. ‘There’s no talking sense to you, is there?

‘You’re the one who had to move countries to find true happiness. Do you miss Blighty? Apart from the curries?’

Arriving into London yesterday was like visiting a foreign country. Newspaper front pages were plastered with pictures of the new royal baby, as though that’s more important than what’s happening in the Middle East. Even if Maria wasn’t Spanish, I don’t know that I’d have wanted to raise a child in England.

‘I miss Marks and Spencer ready meals. And a halfway efficient civil service. Visiting Islington Register Office this morning reminded me what makes Britain the best bureaucracy in the world. Spain’s adoption process is like wading through shark-infested dulce de leche.’

‘I really admire you two for going down this route.’

‘No. Don’t admire us. We’re just . . . stubborn. We like to do things our way.’