The wooden ward door buzzes and a short nurse comes in. She squeezes some hand gel from the dispenser, then puts on a new apron and gloves. The nurse behind the desk nods over to where Dominica is standing. Her eyes twinkle in a friendly way.

‘Are you Dominica?’ she asks and Dominica nods. ‘Then in that case, come here.’ She opens her arms. Dominica is shocked to suddenly be in her embrace.

‘It’s against the rules, but I promised Chris I’d give you a … coo … a … kitch …?’

‘Cwych?’ Dominica says, feeling choked up.

‘That’s it. He said a big cuddle. But it was so busy and, I’m sorry …’

‘You were with him? With Chris?’ Dominica asks, hardly able to believe she’s having this conversation. Her heart is hammering.

‘Yes, I was. He was a wonderful guy. So strong. So brave.’

He was strong and brave. It feels so comforting to know that Alison saw him and knew him. That this lovely nurse recognises how wonderful her Chris was feels vindicating somehow.

‘I feel …’ Dominica says, her voice choking, ‘just so bad about the end. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.’

‘I’m not surprised. It was bloody terrible for the loved ones,’ Alison says. She means it. ‘But you have to know that we gave him all the pain relief we could and, unlike a lot of the others with Covid, he knew what was happening. He wasn’t scared.’

‘Wasn’t he?’

‘No, honestly, I was with him. The last thing he said was that he wanted to give you a cooch.’

‘Cwych.’ Dominica’s voice breaks again and her nose fizzes with tears.

‘And to tell you to move on and to be happy.’

‘He said that?’

She nods and Dominica lets out a little sob.

Alison’s buzzer bleeps. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. But I’m so glad we finally got to meet.’

‘Me too,’ Dominica says. ‘Me too. And … thank you.’

Dominica walks out of the ward and down the stairs and she throws away the mask and gloves in the sanitary bins. She walks straight out of the hospital and gets on her bike and rides down to the sea.

She doesn’t have her stuff with her, but the urge to get in the water feels too overwhelming. The beach on this side of the pier is wide and she leaves her bike on the stones and walks down to the water in the sunshine. She doesn’t care who’s watching. She strips off until she’s in her vest and pants and, keeping her sockettes on to stop her feet from hurting, she walks straight into the water.

The waves are bouncy and crisp, but she doesn’t care as she gasps at the cold, the surf breaking over her waist and filling her face with water as she splashes through it. She swims towards the horizon, then flips onto her back, her skin tingling all over. And now the tears come. Big, gasping tears – although she can’t tell if they’re happy or sad.