‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ said Matron quickly. ‘The infections are contagious, and you’d be putting the children at terrible risk.’

‘They could have masks,’ said Charlotte. ‘If Freddy could only see them, it might make all the difference.’ The tears were streaming down her face. ‘Please, Matron. Please,’ she begged.

Freddy’s fight to breathe was the only sound in the room as Matron hesitated for a long moment. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said finally and left the room.

Kitty and Charlotte sat down next to Freddy’s bed and gripped his hands as they watched him. ‘It’s so lovely to have you home again, Freddy,’ murmured Kitty through her tears. ‘I know you’re in a very bad way, but you’ve got to keep fighting. There’s so much to live for, and the twins need their father.’

Freddy muttered something incomprehensible as he rolled his head against the damp pillow. Then, without warning, he sat up and stared at something on the other side of the room. ‘Randy. Wake up. They’re here. They’re here. We’re going home.’ And then he collapsed back onto the pillow and was still.

Charlotte looked at Kitty with tear-filled eyes. ‘Does that mean Cissy’s Randy could be here too?’ she asked.

Kitty shrugged. ‘Maybe. Perhaps Matron can tell us if he is.’

All speculation came to a halt as the door opened and Matron appeared. She was pushing two specially adapted bassinets that were normally used to provide oxygen to premature or struggling sick babies, and which were fully covered in Perspex. She wheeled them into the room and closed the door. ‘They are a bit of a tight fit, but it was the best I could do in the circumstances,’ she said solemnly.

David was yelling fit to bust as he squirmed and fought against the restricting shield, and Hope was working herself up to a screaming fit for having been woken up.

The noise seemed to rouse Freddy, and his eyes opened slightly.

‘Your son and daughter have got good lungs,’ said Charlotte, taking charge of the bassinets and bringing them to the side of the bed so Freddy could see them. ‘Say hello to David and Hope.’

He reached out a bony finger and touched each cot in turn, his drawn face slowly breaking into a soft smile. ‘David,’ he breathed. ‘Hope.’ He tore his gaze from them and looked at Charlotte. ‘Beautiful, like their mother,’ he sighed before closing his eyes.

‘We need you to get through this, Freddy,’ urged Charlotte. ‘Please keep fighting for all our sakes.’

There was no response from Freddy, and it seemed that short moment of clarity had exhausted him, for he lay very still – too still – and Charlotte grabbed his hand. ‘Freddy? Freddy?’