She had been so certain that Dave would reject her, like everybody else, that his calm, kind acceptance was hard to get her head around. ‘You’re on my side,’ she repeated dumbly, wondering if she had somehow misunderstood.

‘Yes! One hundred per cent.’ He shook his head, as if baffled that this needed confirmation. ‘Bun, when I got home and saw the note you’d left, and realized that you’d actually planned to go, just like that, without any forwarding address . . . I was gutted that you could have done such a thing. Because the thought of losing you like that – of you just vanishing and me not being able to find you . . .’ His mouth pressed together momentarily, his expression stricken. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done. I’d have been broken without you. I mean it.’

‘Sorry,’ she croaked, feeling a lump in her throat. Her departure had, at the time, seemed like the kindest move, long-term, but now she just felt cruel for the way she’d gone about it.

‘I was almost glad that you’d been prevented from getting very far – no, not glad,’ he said, correcting himself. ‘Relieved, at least, that you hadn’t completely gone.’ He gazed beseechingly at her. ‘Please, don’t ever do that to me again. I couldn’t bear it if you just went like that. I’m not saying you have to stay with me forever – although I really hope you’ll want to – but at least tell me, next time you’re dumping me and moving out.’

This last was said in a jokey sort of way, but all the same, Bunny knew he was serious. ‘I promise,’ she replied, just as the nurse popped her head around the curtain.

‘Phone calls!’ she cried. ‘You were asking me if anyone had phoned – and I’ve just found a whole list of messages scribbled down on our desk, which clearly nobody has passed on to you. I’m so sorry.’

‘You haven’t been getting my messages?’ Dave asked, and Bunny shook her head.

‘So there are – let me see – six messages here from Dave Mortimer.’

Bunny made a choking sound as Dave told the nurse, ‘That’s me. There should be another five or six on your phone,’ he added to Bunny.

‘Which is unhelpfully dead,’ she replied.

‘Oh dear!’ said the nurse. ‘Well, I’m sorry to both of you then. Someone on the morning shift must have jotted them down – and then a folder was left on top of the pad and . . . Anyway, you’re all caught up now at least. I’ll leave you in peace.’

Dave looked over at Bunny as the curtain swished shut once more. ‘You must have been thinking all sorts,’ he said.

‘I was,’ replied Bunny, which was pretty much the understatement of the year. ‘I was kind of assuming you didn’t want to know.’