‘Boring. But good boring. I’m tired now.’

‘What do you want for your tea?’

‘We had sandwiches at the cafe. I don’t think I’ll want much tonight.’

‘What kind of sandwiches?’

‘Vegan ones.’

I turn away, so Angelica doesn’t see me smile. That was not vegan bacon we had.

‘OK, well, have a shower to get rid of the hospital.’

‘Do I have to?’

Casey pulls a face at me behind her mother’s back and I’m about to pull one back. But Angelica looks so weary. These small battles must be tough when you always have to face them alone.

‘Your mum’s right, Casey.’

She tuts. ‘You two are ganging up on me now?’ But she trudges off towards the shower room anyway.

Angelica’s eyes meet mine. ‘Wow. Coming over the responsible parent? Whatever next.’

I don’t respond. ‘Listen, I’ve got some work to do tonight, so I’ll go in my room so you can watch TV, hang out together. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Exhausting, is it? Spending time with Casey.’

Don’t rise to the bait. ‘She wanted me to go to the hospital, which means I had to leave work early. I just need to do some catching up.’

‘Yes, Dan, you picked her up from the hospital – once. But imagine doing it day in, day out. Or plaiting her hair before brain surgery, so it won’t be in the way of the incision, and trying not to let her feel your hands are shaking,’ she says. ‘Or comforting her when she gets a message to say her friend from the unit has died. Or going to the scans and crossing everything that nothing will have changed, and then seeing in their faces when it’s bad news. Or—’

‘OK, Angelica, I understand what you’ve been through.’

‘No, you don’t. No one does.’

I hear a plea in her voice: to be comforted? To have someone else sharing the burden? Despite all my doubts about the future, I desperately want her to feel less alone. ‘Angelica . . .’ But her expression could still sour milk. ‘Like I said, I’ve got work to do.’

It’s hot in the bedroom, and a dozen emails appear when I start up my laptop.

I’m almost too tired to deal with them. I guess it’s been a full-on day. Deciding to go to the hospital to surprise Casey. Freaking out. Meeting that random woman.

Gemma.

When I close my eyes, I can see her face: the yellow-green eyes, like the sun on the sea. The thick, dark hair curling where it touches her shoulders. Her voice, kind but determined, a soft Somerset burr just audible. The shape of her, a proper hourglass.

Huh. Can’t believe that when I was meant to be making the most minimal effort as a dad, I was checking out some pretty stranger in an alleyway.

Except . . .

That’s not the whole story. I did make it to the hospital in time – or nearly, anyway. And I hugged Casey, and even told her the truth about the hospital scaring me, because hourglass woman had suggested it.