‘That’s fine. One thing I like in life is an effective plan.’

‘I will get that organised then and hopefully the unit will see you tomorrow. I will also arrange for you to have the annual flu vaccination to reduce the risk of these events in the future. A serious flu can trigger a relapse, so we wish to avoid that where possible.’

‘Sure. Thank you. I think the doctor in Glasgow did mention that but I must have forgotten about it.’

‘It is a lot to take in when you are newly diagnosed. Now, please can I ask you to have a think about who might be able to offer you some support? We cannot discharge you until we know you have someone to help you manage, or that you can manage yourself; you are a bit away from that. I will pop by tomorrow to see how you are getting on.’

Dr Kasani lifts the folder at the end of my bed and scribbles down some notes, then gives me a quick nod and moves to the bed two down from mine for her next patient consultation.

I lie back and close my eyes, letting the reality of the situation sink in. It’s not a relapse. Hopefully it means I can get back to work in a couple of weeks, rather than a few months as I had first feared. But my positivity is short-lived as the other developments of the last twenty-four hours creep back into my consciousness. With Danielle having stuck the knife in and given it a damn good twist, what kind of work environment will I be going back to? One like it was back in Glasgow? Emmanuel won’t remove me from my role, I’m confident about that. But what about everyone else?

And that’s just work. I’ll no longer have Matt to brighten my evenings and weekends – or the band. Wonderful, gorgeous Matt. With whom I now realise, without doubt, I have fallen completely in love. An empty, sick feeling develops in the pit of my stomach.

To take my mind off my broken heart, I decide to update Emmanuel on my situation. I send her a text instead of calling, just in case she’s in the middle of something. She replies quickly.

Sorry, in a meeting but that’s great news. See you in a few hours. E

With that done and nothing else to focus on, I close my eyes once again in the hope that sleep will come and rescue me.

Chapter 33

A couple of hours later, I’m wakened by a bustle of activity, signalling the start of visiting hours. Feeling groggy and not yet switched on, I don’t see the person approaching until they’re standing right at the foot of my bed. I look up and gasp.

‘Matt?’

‘Hey there,’ he replies softly.

‘What are you… how did you…?’

I instinctively swipe at my mouth to make sure I haven’t drooled in my sleep, then try to sit up. But I do it too quickly and immediately receive a stark warning from the lead weight that is my body.