‘What will that do?’

‘Shall we sit?’ the consultant said.

Reluctantly, he sat back down and Burton joined him. ‘Basically, as I just said, as the pressure rises, the brain gets pushed down, further out of the skull, putting increasing pressure on the brainstem, which is essentially the basic life support. As the pressure on the brainstem continues to increase, it causes the loss of ability to maintain the brainstem’s functions. This in turn causes loss of pulse, blood pressure and temperature regulation, which are the very basic functions of the brainstem. So even though your lad’s had the bleeding treated, at this moment the team still can’t get his blood pressure and everything related stable.’

‘I think I follow,’ Grace said. ‘What – what does that mean for his prognosis?’

Burton looked at him, their faces just inches apart now. Grace could feel the warmth of the consultant’s breath with a faint, not unpleasant, tinge of garlic. ‘How honest and explicit do you want me to be?’

‘I’d prefer you to be totally honest and not dress anything up.’ He stared back at the consultant levelly, with an inkling of what might be coming, however much he dreaded what he was about to hear.

Burton gave an uncomfortable smile. ‘I know you coppers cope with some of your worst horrors through gallows humour. So do us medics. Some of us call the MRI scanner the “doughnut of death”. Apologies if that’s offensive.’

Grace shook his head. ‘I get it.’

‘What it showed with Bruno is a tight brain with widespread contusions – both bruising and ischaemia – where his low blood pressure has further impaired his brain functions. And now a brain that’s swelling and pushing down, out of the skull. I wish I could give you better news but I can’t.’

They were interrupted at that moment by Cleo returning, with a small holdall. She sat down and Burton quickly recapped for her. Then he said, ‘I don’t want to mislead you or give you false hope. I’m afraid to say we’re rapidly approaching the point at which there will be nothing more we can do for him.’

Grace stared back at the consultant. ‘Nothing? What do you mean, nothing? There’s always something, surely? There must be some doctor – neurologist – neurosurgeon – somewhere in the world – who could help him? I don’t care what it costs. I’ll do anything. Anything at all.’

Burton sat in silence for some moments, his eyes fixed on the couple. Then he said, ‘Believe me, if there was anything we could do, anything that would give a chance, however small, that Bruno could be saved – other than by a miracle – I would suggest it. But he wouldn’t survive a move from here to any hospital, anywhere – and we really do have top consultants, please believe me on that. I know from some of our staff that you’ve been critical of this hospital in the past, but we’ve made huge strides. The neurosurgeon who’s on his way is world class.’