Jodie spent the rest of that Tuesday keeping herself busy. She washed the inside of all the windows, changed the bed linen, put a wash on, and did the pile of ironing that had built up over the last week, feeling resolute as she ironed her uniforms. She’d be needing them again soon.

Rivka rang late afternoon. ‘You doing okay?’

‘More positive, thanks. It’s all a load of nonsense, it’ll be sorted. I’m not going to worry about it anymore.’

‘That’s the spirit! Honestly, we have enough crap to deal with without adding to it. When I told Tasha, she was horrified. I’d only been talking about you recently, telling her what a brilliant nurse you are.’

Jodie smiled. She’d seen Tasha’s eyes glaze over when Rivka and Jodie drifted down nursing memory lane and could picture her rolling her eyes to be told what a great nurse Jodie was. It was hard for a girlfriend of two years to understand a platonic friendship of eighteen.

They chatted for another thirty minutes and by the time Jodie put the phone down she was convinced she’d made a fuss about nothing.

It was a frame of mind that stayed with her, allowing a more comfortable night’s rest and when she woke in the morning and panic fluttered through her mind, she was able to squash it down. Down, not away.

If her upbeat mood required a lot of propping, she thought that was okay too. And she’d have managed to keep strong if she hadn’t come down the stairs to see the white envelope sitting on the floor by the front door.

She did everything online so post was an increasing rarity. Approaching it warily, as if it was going to fly upward and slice her to ribbons with its sharp edges, she looked down and recognised the logo of the nursing home across the top of the envelope.

The upbeat mood, forced as it was, didn’t have a chance to survive the official words of the letter informing her that she was under investigation for gross misconduct. She’d been stupidly optimistic. This was serious. Gross misconduct was a firing offence, and an offence the NMC would take very seriously. She could be struck off the register. What would she do then? Nursing was all she’d ever known, all she’d ever wanted to do.

She sat and read the letter. The meeting was to be held the next day at eleven. She was entitled, it stated, to bring her union representative with her, or to choose to be accompanied by a friend.