Sylvia nodded. ‘That’s it. Oh, Frank, I knew you’d understand. I’d love to spend the weekend with you, of course I would, but I have to go to see how bad he is. And Mum will need my help. It’s at times like this that I realise how cut off they are, all the way up there in the Lakes, and she might want me to sit with him while she goes out or send me on errands, or whatever needs to be done. Or I might get there and he’ll be right as rain again – I just don’t know.’ Her lip trembled, and she bit it to stop it giving away how worried she was.

Frank could tell, though, and he briefly put a hand on her arm to comfort her. They were always very careful not to flaunt their relationship at work, as it was a tight team and in a confined space, and it didn’t do to act unprofessionally. But he wanted to show her he knew how she must be feeling. ‘You’re doing the right thing,’ he assured her. ‘With any luck you’ll get back there and he’ll be striding around whistling for his sheepdog and heading out on to the hills. Then you and your mother can have a good laugh and she’ll feed you up good and proper. You see if I’m not right.’

‘Oh, I bet you are,’ she said in relief. ‘That’s just how it’ll be. But if I don’t see how he is for myself … well, Mum wouldn’t have written unless it was serious, as she wouldn’t want to worry me, so … I’m going to go.’

‘Of course you are. I’d expect nothing less of you.’ He withdrew his arm. ‘And sorry, here am I holding you up when you’ve got all that work to do. You go, give them my best wishes, and we’ll go out to the Phil another time.’

‘I’d love that.’ The Philharmonic Dining Rooms was where they’d had their first proper date, and it had remained one of their favourite pubs, despite it being slightly out of their way. The sumptuous art-deco interior always lifted their spirits, even if the route there was full of bomb-damaged buildings. ‘I’ll hold you to that, Frank Feeny.’

‘I’ll make sure you do,’ he said mischievously as he watched her hurry back down the corridor.

CHAPTER ELEVEN