My guts ripped inside out at the thought of Joan being anywhere but with me. When they started talking about social services, I called Steph, who listened to my garbled ramblings and told me to leave it with her, to go outside, take five deep breaths and then go back and sit with Joan.

The question about past issues or illnesses – where did I start?

‘I think she had an abusive partner, but she left him two, three years ago. She’s been unwell for a few weeks, with headaches and feeling sick and exhausted, but I don’t know any more than that.’

A while later, a doctor again took me to one side. ‘Are you aware of any history of drug use?’

My stomach took a nosedive. ‘She mentioned drugs, once, in reference to her ex-partner. She said she hasn’t drunk any alcohol since she left him.’

The clock ticked on. The shadows crept across the grey floor tiles. We sat in a semi-private waiting area, cocooned in the muffled background hum of a hospital: feet tapping along the corridors, the rustle of a nurse’s uniform, faint beeps and buzzes and hushed conversations. A sudden groan of agony.

It was two in the morning when the doctor told us that Leanne was stable, and settled for the night. They had more tests to do, and should be able to tell us more the following day.

‘I want to see her,’ Joan said, her voice cracking with fatigue.

‘Visitors aren’t allowed on the wards at night, in case it disturbs the other patients,’ a nurse explained gently.

‘I won’t disturb anyone! I won’t say anything. I just want to see her!’

‘She’s resting now, as should you be—’

‘Don’t tell me I should be resting when my mum is in a bed somewhere and I don’t even know what’s going to happen to her or what’s wrong or if she’s going to die!’ Finally, the dam broke, hot tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

‘Your mum isn’t going to die any time soon. Stable and settled means that although she is quite poorly, she’s not getting any worse at the moment, so we have time to figure out what’s wrong and treat it properly. I’ve worked in this hospital for thirty-two years, and I can promise you that the best thing you can do for Mum is make sure she knows that you’re okay, so she can concentrate on getting better. If you turn up looking like you’ve not slept all night, it won’t help.’

‘Concentrating can’t make people better! If that was true we wouldn’t need hospitals!’

The nurse worked valiantly to hide her smile. ‘No, but not worrying and keeping calm is medically proven to lower blood pressure and boost the immune system along with all sorts of other benefits that can genuinely help someone recover. Okay?’