The canteen was deserted; perhaps some outpatients and visitors had been deterred by the terrible weather. She spotted Patrick reading his paper at a table by the window.

Jazz sank down into the seat opposite him, feeling completely drained.

‘How is he?’

Jazz’s face told the story.

He squeezed her hand hard, then stood up. ‘Tell me about it after I’ve got you a coffee.’

‘I’d like tea, please, and some water.’

‘Anything to eat?’

‘No thanks.’ Jazz stared out of the window as the ceaseless flakes threatened to blank out the daylight. If the worst happened today, she knew she would hate snow forever.

‘There, get that down you, girl. Good, strong builders’ tea.’ Patrick was back with a small stainless-steel pot and a utility cup and saucer, made for maximum use and minimum breakage.

Jazz poured the tea and took a sip. Patrick sat patiently watching her. Eventually she spoke. ‘The consultant has said he has a thirty per cent chance of pulling through. He’s very, very ill and the next twenty-four hours are crucial.’

‘Have you seen him?’

‘Yes, but he has this awful mask on, so he can’t talk. Look, Patrick, it was so kind of you to drive me here but I’m obviously not going anywhere today and I don’t want you hanging around.’

Patrick indicated the snow. ‘Are you to be thinking I’m going anywhere, either? I’ve called in and nothing much is happening. Violent crime goes down in bad weather, as you know.’

‘Aren’t you working on a case at the moment?’

‘Just closed one a couple of days ago. ’Twas very satisfactory. Got a pat on the back from the commissioner for it, actually.’

‘Good for you.’ Jazz wasn’t interested. ‘Well, you can’t just hang around here all day.’

‘I can do whatever I wish, so, and at present, I am quite content to sit here and read my paper. If I get really bored, I’ll be going outside to make a snowman.’ Patrick’s eyes twinkled.

‘I must go and phone Miles. No mobiles allowed inside.’

‘Why don’t you be giving me your mobile and I’ll man it for you? I’ll let them know you’re going to be here for a while and pass on any messages they have for you?’ Patrick leaned over the table and grasped her hands. ‘Jazz, please, just forget about the case today and concentrate on your daddy. I swear I’ll let you know if there’s anything urgent.’

Jazz saw the sense in what he said and nodded. She delved in her bag to retrieve her mobile and handed it to him. ‘For God’s sake, don’t disappear. That’s my lifeline.’

‘I won’t, Jazz. Trust me.’

Jazz almost hit back with a caustic riposte, then decided this was not the moment.

‘I’ll be here waiting, okay?’

‘Thanks, Patrick. I’d better be getting back.’

Rory had emerged a while back from his interview with Isabella, looking bright and relaxed. He’d gone up to his room to read.

‘Do you think he’s okay?’ Angelina asked Issy as she took her coat off the Aga and handed it to her.