She finds Helga’s ward, but the sister explains that there are six beds in her bay and only one visitor is allowed per bay. And, if she does get a slot, she’s only allowed to stay for an hour maximum. Dominica books her slot for the next day.

At the hospital on Friday, it’s quite a rigmarole to get admitted to the ward. She has to put on gloves, an apron and a surgical mask and, seeing the staff trying to cope and do their jobs in their suffocating protective equipment, Dominica feels slightly ashamed for feeling so claustrophobic.

Whilst she’s waiting to get onto the bay, she stands by the nurse’s station. The young registrar is looking at her clipboard and Dominica asks her about Helga’s diagnosis. She asks if Dominica is a relative and, knowing this might be the only way to get information, she nods.

The registrar doesn’t look as if she believes her but gives her the benefit of the doubt. She explains that after the incident when she fell in the alley, she had a heart attack, which had been coming for some time, judging from her bloods. The doctor is perplexed, though. She suspects that someone must have resuscitated Helga before the paramedics arrived. Helga is stable, but they’re keeping her in for a bypass, the registrar explains. She’s on the surgeon’s emergency list and will be getting the op as soon as he can fit her in. She’s lucky in a way, the registrar tells them. If Helga hadn’t fallen, she’d never have got into the system and might have had to wait months and months for the op. Months that might have proved fatal.

Now, as Dominica approaches Helga’s bedside and sits down, she looks anything but lucky. Her face is swollen on one side and there are stitches on her hairline from a nasty cut where she fell. She reaches out to hold Helga’s hand and her plastic glove crinkles.

‘Hey.’ Helga smiles weakly. ‘You came.’

‘Oh, Helga. I’m so sorry. I would have come before. I can’t bear it that you’ve been on your own,’ Dominica says. She feels choked up.

‘I’ve been well looked after. Besides, I couldn’t contact you. It’s so hazy, but I heard footsteps and then when I fell, someone had my bag and I couldn’t stop them. There were two men and I called out and tried to move, but then my heart … there was so much pain and then … I can’t remember much else.’

‘Oh, Helga. I’m so sorry,’ Dominica says. She remembers Helga getting out of the car with her bag on Saturday night.

‘It’s bad enough being in here and feeling so foolish for having fallen, but to be robbed when you’re feeling that vulnerable feels doubly unfair. They took my phone. And my book.’

‘Do the police have any leads?’ she asks. ‘Do they know who stole your bag?’

‘I suspect it was the junkie on the corner. I’ve had words with him before. He probably wanted money.’