‘She’s just sleeping. We did a procedure last night to unblock an artery and put in a stent.’

I glance up at him, horrified. ‘Heart surgery?’

‘Not the way you’re thinking,’ he says, gently. ‘We went in through her arm, and removed the blockage that way. She should be okay to go home in a few days, although there’ll be rehab and some lifestyle changes—’

‘I’ll look after you, don’t worry,’ says Mum, squeezing Nanna Beth’s hand. The nurse gives another reassuring smile and leaves us.

I watch him heading down the ward, checking the time on his watch. I stand at the other side of Nanna Beth’s bed, stroking her fingers. There’s a cannula coming out of her hand, and wires coming out of her arm. Across the way, in another bed, there’s another woman, half awake, being helped upright by a nurse. It’s weird to think of Alex in the same situation, doing that day in, day out. I wish there was reception in here. I want to message him and ask what he knows about all of this. I feel scared and powerless and—

‘Hello,’ Nanna Beth croaks.

‘My God, you gave us a fright,’ says Mum.

Nanna looks at me through heavy lidded eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she says. Her voice is not much more than a whisper. ‘Didn’t mean to cause a fuss.’

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Alex

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Alex

6th October, London

I’m so tired that I could just lie down here and have an emergency nap. The words on the screen of my iPad are swimming in front of my eyes. I’m supposed to be working on an essay, but my brain’s gone on strike.

On a plus note, things at home are a bit less fraught. Now the whole Emma thing is over – and I’ve firmly ended my brief dalliance with being the sort of bloke who has a friend with benefits – I feel like I can breathe a bit. I mean it’s all very well in theory, but it just wasn’t me at all. Not even recovering-from-a-break-up me.

‘Can’t believe you got a first in that essay,’ Jameela says, throwing her bag down on the floor of the nurses’ station. I jump, because my overtired nerves are jangling on high alert at the moment, and she gives a snort of laughter.

She looks as shattered as I feel. Sometimes I think if it wasn’t for the others who are all in the same boat I’d struggle to believe this job wasn’t just some sort of nightmare. We’re all so tired we could fall asleep standing up, and we’ve got assignments coming out of our ears.

I watch her peeling off layers of coat, scarf and cardigan. She shoves them in her locker in a ball and, reaching over, grabs the cup of stewed tea I’m holding, then takes a slurp.