‘I’m going to help you, Michael,’ she heard herself saying, as if the words came out of someone else’s mouth. ‘I’ll stay with you for a while, and we’ll get people in, organize things. Leo will be around too. You’ll be managing without us in no time.’ It sounded so simple as she said it. And so untrue.

Michael blinked, a slow frown forming on his forehead. ‘You’re going to be there?’ he asked, as if he hadn’t heard right.

She nodded.

‘You’d do that for me?’ he said, his face crumpling again.

Romy felt her own eyes pricking. This was a man she had loved so much, once. Really worshipped. Part of me still does, she admitted silently, reminding herself that the notion of leaving her marriage had never even crossed her mind – despite the common marital grouses – until that envelope had dropped through the letter box.

She patted his hand as it rested on the arm of her chair. ‘Of course I will. Just concentrate on getting better, Michael. Things will seem much brighter when you’re in your own bed again.’

Am I so selfish, she asked herself, as she left the ward to get a cup of tea, that I can’t give him a few weeks of my life in his hour of need? What was she scared of? That she would never leave again? My life will still be there, in Sussex, when Michael no longer needs me, she told herself firmly.

The doorbell rang, startling both women, and they jumped up.

Daniel was of medium height and willow-slim, his dark-blond hair cut very short, his fair skin glowing with health. He had a pleasant face, the glance from his light blue eyes shy at first. He looked incredibly young to Romy – even younger than Rex, whom she would have hesitated to leave in sole charge of any sick person. Will he really be able to cope with a cantankerous stroke patient 24/7? she wondered, as she made more coffee and left Bettina chatting to Daniel.

But the boy seemed very confident as Romy filled him in on Michael’s condition and what would be required of him – not that she really had a clue what to expect when her husband came home.