‘I’m fine, really there’s no need.’ I take a large sip of coffee and it makes me realise how dry my mouth is; I can’t remember when I last had a drink.

‘Edie, you don’t need to do this alone. You’ve said it on numerous occasions yourself, this place is a family. You don’t have to be a martyr.’

Claire’s never one to mince her words but she’s never spoken to me like that before.

‘But I can’t afford to take my eye off the ball. The last time I did that, Dad ended up in hospital from all the stress.’

‘Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t actually do the exercise he should do, and that he sneaks off to the greasy spoon on King Street and has a bacon butty or a full English most mornings. Whatever you think you did or didn’t do, it’s not your fault,’ Claire tells me.

‘Look, we’re just trying to say’ – Layla looks at Claire like they’re drifting off topic – ‘that we are here for you and can help.’

My head’s starting to throb and I rub my temples. Deep down, the logical part of my brain knows they’re right. I appreciate what they’re doing for me but I need my work to distract me more than ever, to take my mind off everything, especially the upcoming anniversary of Mum’s death.

‘I’ll let you know. Thanks for the sandwich and the drink, Layla.’

My stomach sinks watching the two of them head back to their desks, and I don’t miss the concerned look they throw each other. They were only trying to help and I pushed them away. It’s easier this way. My priorities are work and Dad, and I can’t allow any more distractions into my life. Not Layla and Claire. Not Joel. It’s like I’m constantly acting like a dam to my emotions and I’m worried if I let anyone breach the walls that they’ll get swept away in the torrent that comes out.

When I eventually leave the office I head straight over to Dad’s.

‘You must be starving,’ says Julie, opening the door to me. ‘You haven’t just left work have you?’

‘There’s a lot to do.’

She frowns and ushers me in. ‘I cooked a moussaka, let me heat some up.’

‘That’ll be great. It smells amazing.’ I follow her into the kitchen and see it sitting on the side.

‘Did you even eat lunch?’

‘I did.’

Julie raises a questioning eyebrow.

‘Layla put it on my desk.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’

She scoops a big chunk of moussaka out of the dish and places it on a plate.

‘How’s the patient doing?’