‘Are you guys thirsty?’ I say, trying to distract us. ‘I’ve got juice, Coke, whatever you fancy.’

‘I told you in my emails, we don’t drink Coke,’ Angelica says curtly, what little patience she has for me clearly already wearing thin. ‘Have you seen what it can do to a coin? Imagine what it does to your insides. I asked you to buy organic juice.’

‘I did.’ I’m heading for the fridge to prove how I almost cleared out Wild Oats wholefoods store when I stocked up yesterday. Except somehow I already know it won’t be enough.

‘Is that a coffee machine?’ Casey points at Vijay’s pride and joy: a silver Rocket Cinquantotto that takes up most of the marble kitchen island. ‘Because Mum and me love our cappuccinos.’

‘Caffeine? I’m amazed that’s allowed.’

‘It detoxifies the liver,’ Angelica says.

‘That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.’ I try to channel charming Dan, the one my mates would recognize. ‘Bristol runs on caffeine. So let’s kick off your stay with the best cappuccino this side of Roma.’

Casey giggles and I want to hear that more, because I’m getting the distinct impression that life with her mum isn’t bursting with LOL moments.

Chapter 5: Gemma

Monday 2 July

Bear pulls me along, nine kilos of strength and extrovert enthusiasm.

‘OK, mate, I get the message – you want to get cracking.’

I always shudder before we enter the hospital building, even though it has changed almost beyond recognition. The sculpted metal panels glow in the afternoon sun, sending a mosaic of light particles onto the paving under Bear’s paws.

Inside the glammed-up foyer the security guy has a treat in his pocket, and the receptionist wants ‘a lick from Dr Dog’, plus we have to pop into the shop so the volunteer can give Bear a tummy rub. And in the lift one of the consultants takes a selfie to show his kids.

Outside the classroom Jed grins at me through the glass and gives the thumbs up, so I push open the door and go inside.

There are five kids in school today, and I recognize four of them from last week. Bear approaches each one differently, as though he can tell what they need right now. The youngest girl is barely old enough for school, never mind what she must go through here, and Bear cocks his head to one side, making happy snuffling noises as she scratches between his ears. Next, Bear jumps on the spot, to say hi to the boy with the biggest brown eyes I’ve seen outside manga.

The newcomer is the eldest: a girl wearing a dark-blonde wig, with luminous grey-violet eyes that widen when I smile at her, before her glance drops to the floor. She’s pretty, though her face has that telltale steroid plumpness, and her body language is fiercely self-conscious. I remember being on the cusp of adolescence, and I want to give her a massive hug and tell her it’ll all be OK.