Bridge keeps chattering on about her mum and food, and I basically have to shake a bandage out in front of her before her attention returns to me.

‘This is going to hurt,’ she says, swabbing at my knee with an antiseptic wipe. I flinch and try to pull my leg away, but she holds it firm with her elbow. We used to play doctors when we were young and I was always the patient, so she knows how to keep me still.

I avoid looking at the blood being wiped from my leg and instead look at Ellie watching Bridge.

‘Can you cut me off two small pieces of that tape,’ says Bridge.

‘This one?’

‘Yeah.’

I watch Ellie cut a perfect rectangular piece and hand it over to Bridge. I have that feeling I sometimes get with Mum and Dad, like I’m watching the scene from above. I screw up my left fist and press my nails as hard as I can into my palm, trying to drag myself back into my body.

‘All done,’ says Bridge proudly.

‘Nice work, doctor,’ says Ellie.

The two of them look down at their handiwork. There is a large white bandage covering my knee and I feel like I’ve been in surgery. I’m not entirely sure it’s all necessary.

‘Now you need ice-cream,’ says Bridge, jumping up. I know that her freezer will be empty of anything resembling treats, because it’s school holidays and her siblings will have raided it already, but she goes to check anyway.

‘Frozen peas, frozen stock, and something that could have once been a curry,’ she says, slamming the freezer door in disgust.

‘Is there a shop nearby?’

Bridge grins at Ellie. ‘What do you want, Clem?’

‘I’ll come, too,’ I say, standing up. But as I do, Ellie puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back down again. ‘No, you’re the patient. We’ll go. It’s okay.’

‘Yeah, we’ll just be a minute,’ adds Bridge, leaving me no choice but to stay in the seat and wait while they skip off to the shop – to our shop. Where the lady behind the counter knows my name.