Let God forgive me: no one was like a sister to me, apart from my beloved Sophie.

‘You were lying on the pavement. You were covered in vomit. You’re lucky a cab driver stopped and called 999. If that’s your idea of fun…’

His words were getting harder to pulverize. So Rob hadn’t even brought me here. Did we say goodbye in the club, or could he just not be bothered to make sure I got home in one piece? I groped for more facts, but none came.

‘Okay, I get it. I’ll do a detox. Dry October. It could catch on.’ His gaze was cold. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be flippant. I’m just trying to process what happened.’ I let my voice drop. ‘It’s a shock.’

I felt a tiny softening. I threw a smile at him, took another sip of my water.

‘There’s plenty of help available, Rachel. Twelve-step programmes, counselling…’

Twelve steps? It took everything I had not to throw that back in his face, but before he could even finish his laundry list, Mum had appeared at the door. She was pale that day, the thinness she prized so much making her look unexpectedly fragile. It punctured me.

‘Rachel.’ I could hear it, that familiar cocktail. Anger and relief, each fighting for supremacy. She hurried across the room to my bed, touched my face. ‘You’re awake.’

‘Hi, Mum,’ I said. My voice had a crack in it. It was for real this time, and I wondered if the doctor could tell the difference. Men rarely could in my experience.

‘Darling…’ she said, voice thick with worry. She found steel. ‘You cannot keep doing this. You cannot.’ The good looking doctor’s eyes ping-ponged between us. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said with a hint of noblesse oblige. ‘Let’s talk outside in a few minutes.’

Once he’d gone, she sunk into the armchair underneath the window. I looked past her, my eyes fixing on the naked, wintry branches of a tall tree outside.

‘It was Lou’s thirtieth. You know what she’s like.’

Mum held up a manicured hand, eyes closing in disgust.

‘No. I know what you’re like. I don’t want to hear it. None of us do. You were meant to be a godmother next week. I’m not sure Josh will even allow it now. Aunt is quite enough for that little girl to handle.’

Some part of my brother would be loving this. I pushed the thought away. My thoughts still felt so muddled. But perhaps they always did back then, even without a gram of coke and a bottle of vodka to contend with. Clarity was dangerous.

‘Mum, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’ A sob choked its way out of me and I twisted up a corner of the sheet to dry my eyes, leaving a smudgy black mark on the pure white cotton.