‘Daddy’s in Benrith hospital, sweetheart.’ Maggie smoothed over his hair. ‘He’s not up to visitors yet.’ Elliott sighed. The last time he saw his daddy, he looked like something from the robot programmes on TV, with tubes coming out of him that came from machines with blinking lights, and bandages on his face. But that had been so long ago, when Elliott was six years old. He was seven now, almost grown up.

His mother bent down to his level. ‘As soon as he’s well enough, I promise I’ll take you to see him. But today we need to think about Libby. She’s had a horrible time and she needs some cheering up. Do you think we can do that?’

Elliott nodded, putting on his special smile. As the lift doors opened, he spied Sarah waiting in the corridor, chewing on her thumbnail. The sad cloud that followed her was back today, but she still looked brave. If Sarah was at his school she would climb right to the top of the bars without even looking down, he could tell.

‘Hello, Elliott,’ she said brightly. ‘I think you’re growing taller every day.’ Elliott responded with a shrug. His jeans had inched up near his ankles, and his toes were squished in his shoes, but he hadn’t said anything because his mummy would have to work even harder to buy him new things. He liked it better when she was at home.

‘Thanks for bringing Elliott,’ Sarah said to Maggie, as the three of them approached Libby’s room. ‘It’s important that we let Libby lead the way. If she tells us to go, we go. Whatever she wants. She’s in control.’

Maggie agreed and turned to Elliott. ‘She’s not long out of surgery,’ she added. ‘She’s probably sore, so best not to jump onto the bed.’ Elliott nodded. He wasn’t in a jumping around kind of mood anyway.

Libby’s room was small but bright, with flowers in glasses adding splashes of yellow and green like in Maggie’s paintings at home. Libby had her own room. She didn’t share with anyone else. There was a bandage on the back of her head, and another on her side where the chunk of wood had jabbed her skin. Elliott had felt that. Blackhall Manor didn’t like letting people go.

Libby was awake, staring at the ceiling. She pulled the blankets up to her chest as Maggie walked in ahead of them. ‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ Maggie said, softly. ‘Elliott’s here to visit. Is it OK if he comes in?’ Libby smiled as she caught sight of him trailing in. Slowly, she held out her hand. Without hesitation, Elliott joined her, taking her hand in his own. A gentle stillness passed between them. ‘And this is Sarah,’ Maggie said, pulling over a chair. ‘She’s my friend. We went to school together.’