Nevis can feel the corners of her lips turn upwards. Her pulse knocks out a rhythm in her wrists. A sob rises up and catches in her throat. She has hardly dared to hope for this and now it is happening.

‘Can I come right now?’

‘That is why I called.’

Pulling on yesterday’s clothes, she thinks about hailing an Uber, checks the traffic on her phone and decides it will be quicker to run. She leaves a note for Honor and ten minutes after the phone call she is on her way.

Nurse Becky is standing at the nurses’ station in her scrubs poring over a screen. She recognises Nevis immediately.

‘Oh, sweetie, you’re here!’ She explains that Satnam’s condition remains very fluid. Earlier this morning Satnam showed signs of waking so the hospital called her parents. The decision was made to take her off the respirator and let her breathe on her own again. Bikram could not leave the pharmacy but Narinder came down right away and is with Satnam now.

‘To be honest,’ Becky says gently, lowering her voice, ‘she might have spoken but it might also have been moaning. I think she called for you, but it really wasn’t clear. She hasn’t said anything since. It sometimes takes people a while to come round after being in a coma. In any case, I thought she would want to see you.’

Nurse Becky provides directions and, as Nevis is about to turn away, Becky stops her and in a whisper adds, ‘Her mum is still saying it’s all an accident. Probably best if you don’t argue with that right now. Nothing to be gained.’

Nevis walks down the corridor to Pine Ward with her heart in her mouth. At the curtain, she calls out. Narinder’s voice answers, ‘Come in.’

Satnam’s mother is sitting beside the bed with her hand resting on her daughter’s arm and looks up when Nevis pushes back the curtain and enters. Her face seems expressionless to Nevis. That’s probably just me, thinks Nevis, I’m not good with these things. Her friend is lying on her back with her eyes closed, no longer intubated and breathing softly but giving no sign of being awake.

‘They say she can hear,’ Narinder says, ‘but I do not believe it. I have spoken to her but she does not respond.’

‘Can I try?’

Narinder seems to consider this for a moment before nodding and getting up from the chair by the bed. She hovers in the corner of the cubicle. She seems dishevelled and worn, not unlike the homeless people who congregate in Broadmead of an evening. Since the incident on the bridge, Nevis has felt very alone, but now, she can see, she is not. Satnam’s condition, her actions, have taken their toll on those who love her.