Paul brought his hands out from beneath the sheet and studied them. His voice was hoarse. ‘I feel so weak. All my muscles – I feel like a newborn kitten. It feels horrible.’

‘We’re going to have to build you up again, Paul,’ said Doctor Meer. ‘We have a program of physical therapy already planned out for you. It’s going to be hard work – but soon you’ll be back to peak fitness.’

Paul rubbed his eyes. ‘God, I had such dreams.’ He looked up, cast his gaze over each of them in turn, finally settling on Jamie.

‘I want to talk to Jamie,’ he said.

‘No, you need to rest,’ said the doctor. ‘Jamie can come back later.’ He turned to the group. ‘Paul’s not ready to talk to all of you yet. He needs time to adjust to being back among…the living. I know you’re all desperate to talk to Paul, but I have to put his well-being first.’

‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ Jamie said, as Doctor Meer ushered them out again.. As they left the room, Jamie looked back over his shoulder. Paul had already closed his eyes.

Over the next seventy-two hours, they were allowed in to see Paul one at a time. Jamie had to wait until Paul’s parents and Heather had taken their turn. The waiting was agony, but made bearable by the fact that Paul was now conscious: that he was back among the living, as the doctor phrased it.

Jamie grabbed the plastic chair he had sat on so many times and pulled it close to the bed. Paul looked a little better now, the effects of the long sleep fading from his face. He was still on a drip, but that awful bip-bip-bip noise had gone. There were magazines piled up by the bed, which Paul hadn’t touched.

‘What happened?’ Paul asked. ‘Heather told me the details but I can’t quite get my head round it. I want to hear it from you.’

‘You don’t remember it?’

‘I remember the go-kart race. I know I won. But the last thing I recall is crossing the finishing line.’

‘One of the other racers crashed into the back of your kart. I didn’t see it, but we were told that Chris braked too quickly in front of the other racer, making him swerve into you.’

‘That’s what Heather said. Poor Chris. I bet he feels really guilty.’

‘What? Why did you say poor Chris? He’s not the one they carted off in an ambulance.’

‘But to cause an accident like that, especially after we’d been getting on so well. He must have felt so…what’s the word? Oh, my head feels fuzzy.’ He concentrated. ‘Remorseful.’