‘Then why hasn’t she? We’ve stayed, rattling around in that house of memories, so she could find us whenever she wanted to. Keeping the landline going so she could call. She’s not tried once, in fifteen years. There’s no reason to believe that’s changed.’

‘A life-threatening diagnosis and a child who needs a family are the reason,’ Peter replied steadily. ‘We’ve never gone looking for her – always given her the choice. We won’t take that from her, however devastating it might be for us. This is about her, and what she needs. We aren’t getting it wrong this time.’

‘I just don’t know if I can bear it,’ Carole wept.

Peter tried to reply, but I couldn’t distinguish any words between his rough sobs.

I had never heard the sound of true heartbreak until that phone call.

I confirmed the meeting time and ended the call, praying that this wasn’t the most terrible mistake.

A message pinged through as I rolled into bed just after nine.

Holding up OK?

Three short words that managed to create the same effect as if I’d sunk into a bath of steaming hot loveliness.

Despite every inch of me sagging with fatigue, my cheek muscles somehow found the strength to smile.

Knackered but OK, thanks

A second later came a reply:

Too tired to talk? Or type?

Smile growing, limbs instantly re-energised, I dialled Sam’s number.

It was an hour or so later I finally fell asleep, still clutching the phone, Sam’s soft laughter and gentle conversation like a lullaby, soothing all the what-ifs away.

27

The morning was only bearable thanks to a dog walk, pie-making and Joan’s insistence that we tidied up the worst of her house in case Carole and Peter wanted to see it. However, it was two jangling bags of nerves that rode up in the hospital lift the second visiting hours opened.

‘I feel worse than yesterday,’ Joan said.

‘Me, too,’ I added. ‘I don’t know why.’

‘Because if Nana and Grandad were angry and horrible, then we could just go home and forget about them. If Mum’s angry then she might not want to be friends with you any more.’ Joan looked at me then, eyes round as it hit her. ‘She might not let me keep staying with you!’

I swallowed hard and somehow wrestled a reassuring smile onto my face. ‘That won’t happen. It’s going to be a big surprise, and she might need some time, but I’m sure she’ll understand that we were only trying to help.’

Joan scoffed. ‘Well, I’m not at all sure, and I know her better than you. I think you should be more prepared for this to be a complete disaster, Ollie.’

‘Thanks, Joan, that’s really encouraging advice when we’re about to go and break the news.’