‘Yes,’ Mum answers straight away. ‘I talked to him while he was unconscious. I don’t know if it’s possible he could have heard me. The doctor and one of the nurses said he couldn’t, but there was another nurse who said she believed he could. Anyway, I told him that I’d be changing his diet, swapping sticky toffee puddings for fruit and that we’d dig out his golf clubs from the garage, make sure he got some exercise. But what I didn’t say, what I should have said, is that I’d be okay without him. Not because I wanted to be without him, or I believed I would be okay, but because…’ She falters. ‘Because if he could have heard me, it would have reassured him. Made letting go that little bit easier. He always worried so much and I hate to think his last thoughts were wondering how I’d cope alone.’

She sniffs and I know she is crying too.

I’m doing the right thing.

What comfort Oliver’s work could have brought Mum. Knowing that Dad could hear her would have made such a difference. Would have allowed her to say all the things she needed to make it easier for him. For her.

‘I’ve got to go, Mum, but I’ll call you soon.’

‘I love you, Anna.’

‘I love you too.’

And leaving my doubts and fears on the beach, I head back up the incline to the Institute.

It is time.

I shuffle out of my bedroom, self-conscious in the gown Sofia has given me to put on. All of my bras have underwire and because I can’t wear anything with metal in the scanner, I’d had to take it off. Self-consciously I cross my arms across my chest as I pad, in socked feet, to find Oliver.

Again, he shows me the console room where he and Sofia will be watching me, both through the glass and via the computer screen. Luis settles Adam on the patient table, as I now know it is called.

‘The scanners are notoriously noisy,’ Oliver tells me. ‘Unfortunately the knocking sound you’ll hear is something we couldn’t entirely eradicate with our new design but you’ll be wearing noise-cancelling headphones. I’ve a microphone in the console room and I’ll be able to speak to you. There’s a mic within the machine so you can talk to me. I want you be comfortable and if you’re not, just say and I’ll get you out as quickly as I can.’

‘Okay.’ Nerves writhe around my stomach. ‘There is enough air in the machine for both of us?’ Oliver’s new design may be larger than usual but now I’m about to go inside it, it seems impossibly small.

‘Absolutely. Some people can experience anxiety in a confined space but, again, we can get you out at any time.’