‘Because you had to come here, pussycat. Everyone had been trying to get hold of you for hours to tell you the news . . . There’s a point where you have to say, “Enough, stop beating about the bush and act,” and how could I have known that you’d follow any of my advice, when you always do exactly as you please? I’m sorry I made a shambles of things, as always . . .’

I looked at her and smiled. Only my mother would talk about making a shambles of things at such a time. I looked up and met Charlotte’s eyes. I asked her if what my mother had just told me was true, and that Louis would get his memory back.

‘Oh, ye of little faith . . .’ Mum retorted, which made us all laugh.

My mother has always been able to defuse the most serious situations – it’s a real gift of hers. I would so like to have that ability, too.

Charlotte spoke softly. She gave me a hug as well. She smelled nice. I asked the question I’d been burning to ask: would Louis remember . . . me?

She answered that I’d have to speak to Dr Beaugrand, that he’d explain everything. That it was impossible to know whether Louis would get his memory back and, if so, what and who he would remember. Recovery after a coma varied from one person to another. What we were seeing was exceptional. Before opening his eyes, Louis had given no visible clinical signs of being awake. It had been sudden. And already, within a few hours, his progress had been swift. It would take a while to establish precisely which of his bodily functions were back to normal. Medicine had its limitations, and it was very hard to forecast. But we had to remain hopeful. My mother was right to be optimistic. It was obvious that his brain was working. He was trying to speak. He was moving his limbs. These were giant steps.

Charlotte also told me that I could be proud of what I’d done for him. What’s more, a number of parents of other children in the hospital had begun to do likewise. I told her to stop kidding me, but she meant it. Even without a Book of Wonders, some parents had started asking their children what their most cherished dreams were, and fulfilling them. The children often had straightforward wishes that weren’t so difficult to achieve. The joy of these new questions and rewards was spreading through the entire hospital. Of course, not all of these adventures would have a happy ending, but they were morale boosters. They injected doses of happiness, hope and life into existences devoted to fighting terrible diseases.

‘You’ve done them an incredible amount of good, Thelma,’ Charlotte went on. ‘You’re a role model for them.’

‘Me? A role model? That’s a first—’