‘Dad!’ Leo jumped to rescue his father, his face a picture of concern as he began to heave Michael upright. But Michael was unfazed. As he settled back on his crutch, he gave Romy such a wide grin that, for a second, she forgot Grace. It was just her and Michael, the two of them, making each other laugh.

Later that evening, after Leo had gone, she helped Michael get ready for bed. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress in his T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, clean and sweet-smelling from his wash, when he took her hand as she mechanically plumped his pillows, staring up into her face with a yearning that made her stomach flip.

‘It was fun, laughing like that.’

Romy nodded, not wanting to snatch it away, but feeling uneasy, standing there, her hand in Michael’s.

‘Will you kiss me goodnight?’ Michael asked. Then, perhaps seeing her face, he added, with a quick smile, ‘No agenda.’

Romy hesitated. She would give him a friendly kiss – had done so on a number of occasions since the stroke. But she knew, from what Leo had told her earlier – and the softening of their mood since the laughter – that Michael might be angling for more than just ‘friendly’, despite his assertion to the contrary. She balked at the thought of anything that could presage a sexual invitation. Bending quickly, she dropped a brief peck on his cheek, at the same time withdrawing her hand from his grasp.

Michael’s expression stilled, but he continued to gaze at her as she turned away.

‘Not as bad as last time,’ he said quietly, as he pulled his weak leg onto the mattress and lay back on the pillows. ‘At least you didn’t flinch.’

Romy was shocked, not so much by his words but by the obvious bitterness behind them. ‘Michael …’

He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Don’t pity me, Romy.’

There was silence in the room. Romy busied herself picking up the clothes he had discarded and folding them, placing them on the chair. ‘I’m not,’ she replied briskly, although, to her own ears, her protestation rang weak and dishonest. Michael believes I’m pitying him for his disability, she thought. But her disinclination had nothing whatever to do with his current physical condition.

She took a deep breath. This was it. Leo’s declaration had made her realize she couldn’t continue in this no-man’s-land with Michael for a second longer. Moving the clothes aside, she sat down on the orange armchair facing the bed. This was the moment she’d been avoiding for what seemed like two lifetimes.