‘What are you doing?’

‘I’ve had enough of your bullshit. We’ll move into hospital accommodation. We should have done that from the beginning.’

Except the last thing Casey needs is to be cooped up alone with her mum while she’s this wound up. ‘No. Wait. Do you even know if they’ve still got space?’

As I follow her into the hall, it occurs to me that last week I would have been helping her pack. Yet now I’m fighting to keep them with me.

‘If they haven’t, we’ll check into a hotel. Anything rather than having to spend one more minute cluttering up your perfect bachelor pad.’ She bends down to take more food out of the cupboards: all gluten- and enjoyment-free. Poor Casey.

I know Angelica’s doing her best, and that I’ve got no idea what it’s like to fear your kid is sick but not be able to find help. So I make another decision. ‘Listen, if anyone needs to go, it should be me. It’s more important that you and Casey have somewhere safe during her treatment.’

‘Oh, how magnanimous of you. You think you’re better than us, but you couldn’t be more wrong. My dad warned me not to come here, because you’re a man-child who hasn’t grown up at all in the last twelve years.’

My hands shake. My ears ring. It sickens me that Vaughn still thinks he can pass judgement on me. I have changed.

Angelica pushes past me to go into her room and I hear the wheels of her suitcase turning as she pulls it out from under the bed.

I want to follow her, tell her the truth. It might be a relief to be honest about the penthouse, and about how much Casey has started to mean to me and how I can now see the damage I caused. I could even tell Angelica what her father did—

No. I can’t risk it, because I don’t know what will happen when July ends, when I no longer have the penthouse to offer them. All I can do right now is ensure Casey stays here, because this is the best place for her during her treatment.

The bangs and crashes from Angelica’s room stop abruptly. I hear Casey’s door opening and her feet tiptoeing across the hall. When she opens the door to Angelica’s room, Casey’s voice sounds soothing as she tries to calm her mother down.

I go out onto the terrace and peer out towards the suspension bridge, so close to where we were only an hour ago. Can Gemma see the bridge from her Clifton balcony? What would she advise me to do now?

She’d expect me to be kind.

‘DL?’

Casey is behind me. ‘Mum says she’d like to stay after all, if that’s still OK?’

‘Of course it is. That’s what I want too.’

‘She just . . . got a bit hyper. Sorry.’

I want to hug Casey, but it’d be almost like asking her to take sides. She needs her mum right now, and her mum needs her. ‘There’s nothing to apologize for. Tell you what: I know a knockout vegan place that does delivery. Shall I order you both a takeaway?’