Jason grabbed Dani’s arm and pulled enough to get her moving again before he let go.

They traipsed through the dark across the dewy grass back towards the tower blocks. When they reached the row of flats, Dani noticed a uniformed officer stationed outside. Given what had happened, someone would stay there now until the occupants returned or at least until they figured out exactly who was now lying smeared across the dual carriageway.

Dani recalled the scene from outside the flats hours earlier. The man across the street. Why did he run?

‘Give me your keys,’ Jason said.

‘What?’

‘I’ll take you home in my car. Someone else can get yours for you.’

Dani didn’t protest. She handed Jason her car keys and he headed over to the PC by the flat. After a brief exchange he handed the keys over then made his way back to Dani.

‘Come on, my car’s this way.’

Chapter Thirty-Four

Day 231

I’m eternally grateful to the paramedics, the nurses and doctors who saved my life. To the neurologists, psychotherapists and physiotherapists and all the other -ists who further helped my recovery. But there’s no doubt that after those months in hospital, since I’ve been home I’ve felt more alone than ever. I’ve entered a dark place. With the twenty-four hour watch and care of the NHS long gone, I’m struggling, even though I won’t admit it to anyone. Least of all to Jason.

He’s moved into my apartment now, though we sleep in separate beds, and that’s not just because of my unsociable nocturnal habits that include frequent trips to the toilet, together with agonising bouts of insomnia. It doesn’t feel like we’re a couple; there’s no romance in our relationship. He’s my carer, however much I don’t want him to be.

Since I’ve come home I’ve had a letter from the DVLA to say that my driving licence has been revoked. I’ll have to go through a full assessment in the future to determine if I’m fit and able to drive again. I don’t have a mobile phone. I’m not trusted with one, particularly following what happened with the Daily Mail article. Jason has taken my laptop and changed all my passwords too. I’m not supposed to operate other heavy machinery – what exactly that means, who knows – not even allowed to boil a kettle or use the hob without supervision. I can’t be trusted. What if I make a mistake? What if I have a seizure while carrying out these simple tasks?

It’s a stark reminder of just how different I am now, in other people’s eyes, even if in my own mind I’m still me.