‘It’s n-not that b-bad, honest,’ I splutter. Why won’t my teeth stop chattering?

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ Will says firmly. ‘Come on. Let’s get you into the warm.’

‘I d-don’t want to ruin your d-dad’s special day,’ I protest as he begins to lead me towards the car park.

‘He won’t mind. He’ll be reliving every moment with boring Bernard until either the cows come home or Audrey stabs him to death with something.’

When we get to the car, Will starts the engine and puts the heater on full. I can tell this because the temperature knob is all the way round and the fan is running at top speed, but I can’t feel a thing. By the time we make it back to my flat in Tunbridge Wells, my teeth have at least stopped chattering but my backbone feels like it’s made out of ice, my legs have started trembling uncontrollably and I still don’t appear to have any sensation in my feet at all. To make matters worse, I stumble embarrassingly as I get out of the car; thankfully Will is standing right there and grabs me just before I face-plant onto the pavement.

The next mortifying moment follows hot on the heels of the last, as my defrosting hands are so tingly that they’re completely useless and I’m unable to reach into my jeans pocket to grip my keys.

‘Would you mind?’ I ask Will, pointing at my pocket.

What follows is possibly one of the most awkward moments of my life, and I’m almost grateful that my thighs are numb and I can’t feel where his hand is. He’s obviously feeling it too, as he yanks the keys out so fast you’d think something in there had bitten him.

‘You need a hot bath,’ he instructs as we go indoors.

‘No,’ I tell him, glad I’m not stuttering any more at least. ‘It sounds counter-intuitive, but I need to warm up slowly.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Hot water draws blood away from the heart and vital organs towards the skin. It can be fatal in hypothermia patients, not that I think I’m hypothermic. I’m just very, very cold.’

‘I’m sorry. I should have taken better care of you.’

‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have dressed more appropriately and been more aware of what was happening. I am supposed to be a nurse, after all.’

An uncomfortable silence descends as we climb the stairs and I point out which key to use to let us into the flat.

‘At least let me stay with you until you’re properly defrosted,’ he says once we’re inside. ‘It’s the least I feel I can do. I’ll only worry about you otherwise.’

‘I’m a big girl, Will. You don’t need to look after me.’