‘Even dying,’ she said, with a bleak attempt at humour. ‘We’re always telling each other “Don’t worry, it may never happen” and most of the things that secretly scare us witless won’t . . . but dying will happen one day to all of us. It’s just that I don’t feel nearly ready for it yet.’

‘Perhaps one never does,’ he said, aching for her, feeling helplessly inadequate to bring reassurance. ‘Have you got anything you can take . . . a sleeping pill or something?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I will do that . . . but will you wake me in the morning in case I oversleep? I have to get up to go to the hospital.’

‘I will.’

He watched her go into her room, knowing that, pill or no pill, she would probably cry herself to sleep.

In the morning, as promised, Christopher went to check on Louisa. He had in fact looked in on her twice during what had been left of the night, and listened – but there had been no sound and she appeared to be sleeping.

Now he tapped at her half-open door twice, and then put his head round it. ‘Louisa?’ She was curled up in a tight little ball and didn’t move. For an awful moment he wondered how many sleeping pills she might have taken.

‘Louisa . . .’ he said again, louder, and was mightily relieved when she moaned softly and stirred. ‘It’s just after seven. I promised I’d wake you. You have to go to the hospital.’ He hated reminding her.

‘Adam?’ she asked sleepily.

‘No,’ he said. ‘No, it’s Christopher. I’m still here.’

She sat up suddenly, blonde hair tousled. She had nothing on and he couldn’t help noticing again how thin she was – painfully, scarily thin. He looked away quickly. She pulled the duvet up to her chin.

‘Christopher? Oh, of course . . . I . . . I remember now.’ He could see from her face that recollection was flooding painfully back.

‘I’ll get you a mug of tea,’ he said.

When he went back upstairs with it, she was sitting on the edge of her bed with a dressing gown on and had brushed her hair. He felt very rumpled, scruffy and unshaven.

‘Did you sleep?’

‘I took a pill as you suggested – went out like a light. Christopher?’

‘Yes?’

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Thanks for everything.’

‘It was nothing. Wish I could have done more. Is there anything else I can do?’

‘No, I’ll be fine . . . but perhaps you could just hang on while I have a shower and answer the phone if it goes? It might be the hospital and I wouldn’t want to miss the call. Dr Allandale said he’d get someone to ring early if the appointment had to be changed.’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and wait downstairs.’

When he got down to the kitchen, he hesitated for a moment, then picked up the telephone and rang Adam.