I checked the board by the lift and saw Chiltern ward was on the second floor. The hospital was busy as visiting hours were in full swing and I nearly bumped into a man on crutches coming around the corner. I wasn’t sure what to say to Sophie, or how to ask, but I had to find out if there’d been a sexual assault. I needed to know if it was him.

I pressed the buzzer, was let into the ward and went to the nurses’ station. This time a portly nurse, wearing a blue uniform stretched tightly over her curves, greeted me with a smile.

‘How can I help you, my love?’ She had a rich Nigerian accent and I couldn’t help but smile, her warmth was infectious.

‘I’m looking for Sophie Whitaker please.’

‘She’s in the last bed by the window. Her mother is with her now.’

‘Is there somewhere I can wait? I mean, I don’t want to intrude.’

She pointed to a row of blue plastic chairs bolted to the wall and I took a seat.

‘Thank you.’

Around fifteen minutes later a smartly dressed lady in her late forties approached the desk. I raised my magazine an inch, so it shielded my face, pretending to be engrossed.

‘I’m just popping to M&S, she wants some more flapjacks,’ she said, clutching her purse to her chest. Her red lipstick had bled into the creases around her mouth and her attempt at putting a face on didn’t mask the dark circles beneath her eyes. It was a face so unlike my mothers, not tainted by alcohol but haunted by the pain her daughter had experienced.

‘They are addictive,’ the nurse replied, flashing an enormous smile. As she walked past, the nurse winked at me and nodded towards the back of the ward. The lady must have been Sophie’s mother. I was alarmed at how young Sophie might be and my legs were heavy as I made my way down the ward. I approached the curtain which was half drawn and peered around. A puffy face, a mixture of pink and purple tones, looked up at me. It was awful, her features were so swollen, I couldn’t tell what she was supposed to look like or how old she was, but I’d guess she was still in her teens. Caught between not bearing to look and unable to tear my eyes away, I was dumbstruck that someone could do that to another human being, a mere girl.

‘Hi,’ I mumbled, scooting down to sit beside her. The chair still warm beneath me.

‘Hi?’

‘I’m sorry to turn up without warning, but I wanted to come and see you.’