‘Hey, how you doin’?’ she says in an American accent.

‘I’m doing goood,’ I say, matching her.

We’re laughing as we go into the living room, but the expression on Angelica’s face makes the laughter stop. She hates me. Which is fair, but it’s tricky occupying the same overheated room with someone whose loathing is so poorly disguised.

Casey launches herself onto the sofa and the leather cushion oofs when she lands next to her mum. They could almost be sisters. Except that Casey seems more like the Angelica I remember, because she actually smiles.

I’m breaking my first rule: don’t look back in anger. Don’t look back at all. ‘What have you been doing with yourselves today, girls?’

‘The same as yesterday,’ Angelica says. ‘And the same as we’ll do tomorrow. Hospital, hospital school, home. Not that this place feels like a home.’

Casey fiddles with her wig. ‘But on the way back here we went to that market, the one in the old building, like in The Muppet Christmas Carol.’

‘St Nicholas?’ I’m a bit put out; it’s one of the places my friends recommended I show Casey. ‘Did you see my favourite record store?’

Angelica sighs. ‘I couldn’t believe people pay a tenner for old records. This lot must be worth thousands.’ She waves at the shelving units packed with Vijay’s albums.

Tell them, now.

But already Casey is speaking again. ‘We don’t have a record player at home,’ she says. ‘I’m surprised they’re allowed any more. Those needles look very dangerous.’

‘They’re not dangerous! Let me show you.’

But Angelica is frowning. ‘Aren’t you meant to be taking us out? It’s not good for Casey to eat too late. It interferes with her sleep, which is vital for her recovery.’

God, she’s hard work. Except I can hear how tired she is, and I know it must have been bloody relentless, as a single parent, coping with Casey’s illness. I should cut her some slack. ‘Yes, I booked for six thirty and it’s not far to walk.’

Angelica sighs again. ‘Well, I’ve got a migraine coming on, so you two will have to go alone, if you think you can handle a couple of hours in sole charge of your daughter.’

‘I’ve got headache pills you could take,’ I say, but Angelica scowls at me as if I’ve suggested rubbing cocaine into her gums.

Casey gives her mum’s hand a squeeze. ‘Have you tried your lavender stick?’

‘It’s the heat. I’ll be fine after a lie-down. Go on, you deserve to have fun.’

Casey gets up. ‘I need to change. Are we going somewhere fancy?’

‘No. More of an upbeat, happening place.’

Casey thinks it through. ‘Got it. Back in ten.’ She disappears, leaving me alone with Angelica.

‘Shall I bring you something back to eat?’ I ask.

‘I’m not hungry, thank you. And I don’t know where you’re going, but I hope it’s not fast food. Please encourage her to choose plant-based. The vegetables help fortify her immune system.’