What should he do? He had no clothes here now. Maybe Flora could bring some stuff from The Three Fishes tomorrow. He peeped into the spare room and saw the bed tumbled, presumably after Nicola had slept in it. Unable to face changing the sheets tonight he returned to the sofa and put the TV on low, preparing to spend the night there.

Then Hayley drifted in like a ghost in a white robe. Tubes emerged from beneath the fabric and looped into the floral bag hung over her shoulder as if she was just off shopping. Her pallor was startling, lines graven on her face. For once, she looked her age – and more. Her voice was a thread. ‘You can’t imagine how hard I tried not to ask this of you.’

He rose slowly, shocked by her appearance. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me what you were going through.’

She drifted to the armchair and lowered herself gingerly into it, disposing of the inappropriately cheery bag at her feet. She sounded irritable. ‘It’s me who owes you the apology. I ended the relationship and it’s outrageous that I should now presume upon your good nature to turn yourself into my carer just as if we were still together. Outrageous. I talked to Bev, my cancer nurse, about it for quite a while but she’s adamant that I can’t manage alone yet.’

‘You don’t look as if you ought to be out of bed, let alone managing by yourself,’ he said honestly. ‘When you handed Doggo over I should have realised there was something wrong.’

‘I was feeling alone,’ she sighed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, meaning it. ‘I leapt to conclusions and was prickly and defensive.’

She sat back, closing her eyes. ‘I understand. From your point of view I turned up out of the blue acting oddly. This is going to be awful. I thought that getting a nurse would be easy enough. I have the money to pay privately.’

He sat down again. ‘I know from Mum that if she needs respite care for Dad it has to be booked well ahead.’

She nodded. ‘I can’t work for a while. I might have to have radiotherapy or chemo. I might lose my hair.’ Her eyelids flicked open with a glint of grim humour. ‘I always said I’d never have an implant or a tattoo and now I’m going to end up with both.’

His brain worked on that. ‘The implant I understand but … a tattoo?’

She began to ease herself up again. ‘They tattoo on a nipple. Non-functioning, of course.’

‘Oh,’ he said blankly.

She shifted her weight forward and managed to get to her feet. ‘Thanks for coming, Isaac. I’m afraid things are going to be incredibly awkward.’