‘Anyhow, we’ll get some extra wine in too so if you can find out if he drinks red or white that would be really helpful. Oh, this is wonderful, Charlotte! This is all just so wonderful!’

And I suppose the past few months have been a bit wonderful. The summertime brought great hope as Matthew’s recovery came on in leaps and bounds; he learned to manoeuvre around in a wheelchair and his speech improved by the day. Tom continued to write to me or call me once a week, and just as we were planning some time together when I broke up from school for the long summer break, his band were offered a tour in America – another opportunity we just couldn’t afford for him to turn down.

‘We have two days off when we hit Boston at the end of July,’ he told me, his voice dipping in despair as nothing was going our way. ‘How about you and Kirsty take a road trip and meet us out there? I need to see you, Charlie. I’m still waiting. I’ll always wait.’

And although the idea of a week or two in Boston seemed so simple and ideal, nothing could take me away from the commitment I’d made to my family and to see Matthew’s recovery through to the end. He was thriving on routine and familiarity, the nurses told us. He needed that stability, love, encouragement and a positive outlook, no matter how we felt behind the scenes, and most of all he needed hope that he was going to get better.

No one can ever imagine the loneliness of sitting by the hospital bed of someone you love until you experience it for yourself – the pressures on the family dynamics, the arguments between us all when things were going wrong or just from fear and frustration. Even though Jack had told me to start living again, there was no way I could just pack up and leave for America.

So I was faced with yet another decision – go to America to see Tom at last, or stick it out for another while to see Matthew’s recovery through until the end.

This very subject was to be our very first row.

‘I’m starting to think this is never going to happen,’ Tom said in despair. ‘To be honest, Charlie, I don’t think you’ve any intention of coming to see me, never mind make a move over here. It’s all about Matthew. He’s your priority, not us. He always has been.’

A knot in my stomach twisted and I felt tears prick my eyes.