The young woman she’s speaking to silently scrutinises her, and Abby’s cheeks flush with warmth. She must be wearing her guilt like brightly coloured clothes, there for everyone to see. The woman’s eyes narrow and there’s an almost imperceptible shake of her head. ‘Can I have your name?’ she asks.

There’s no point lying. If Greg refuses to see her, then she’ll wait here until he leaves. A pointless vow when there are probably more exits to this building. ‘Abby Nichols. Can you please tell him it’s urgent?’

She waits while the young woman speaks into the phone, relaying Abby’s message with a frown creasing her forehead. Whatever happens next, Greg won’t be happy that she’s turned up here.

The receptionist hangs up the phone. ‘He’s coming down to see you. You can wait in the seating area over there.’

It’s nearly twenty minutes before Greg appears, flanked by several people as he steps out of the lift. For a moment it looks as though he’s brought them with him, and it’s only when they head off in different directions that she realises she’s mistaken. He scans the hospital entrance, squinting until he spots her by the window. He’s smiling as walks over to her, and this surprises her. He must know why she’s here. The cynic in her believes it is just to keep up appearances; they’re in a busy hospital and he’ll know a lot of the staff here: he won’t want anyone to witness him having any type of altercation.

‘Abby? What’s going on?’ he says as he reaches her. He stops at least two metres away. ‘Is everything okay? Did I leave something behind?’

‘We need to talk, Greg.’

He looks around and smiles at someone passing by. ‘Of course. I’m a bit snowed under at the moment, though, can we catch up another time? Maybe we can all go out for dinner or something?’

This reaction is something she’s unprepared for. Is he going to pretend last night hasn’t happened? That everything has been concocted by her imagination? She lowers her voice. ‘This can’t wait, and we both know it.’

His smile vanishes. Now she knows it’s real. It takes Greg a moment to answer. ‘Let’s sit in the coffee shop over there.’ He walks off and she follows, yet still he keeps his distance.

As soon as they’re inside she knows why he’s suggested this place. It’s far noisier than the lobby, with little chance of them being overheard above the clinking of cups and rumble of chatter, even though the tables are crammed together. It’s the perfect place to hide.