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She rested a hand on his arm, but he tensed and flinched away. She tried not to take it personally as she listened to his end of the call.

‘I’m so sorry, Mia,’ he said as soon as he’d hung up. ‘I need to go.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Ma’s had a fall. It sounds bad. They’re taking her to hospital…’

‘Come with me.’ She grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards their table.

‘Mia, I need to go.’

‘I know. But I need my bag. I’m coming with you. Don’t even think about arguing.’

‘Thank you.’

She grabbed her bag with one hand, and her skirt with the other, bundling it untidily around her fist so she could run without getting tangled, and set off through the lobby. ‘Come on, slowcoach.’

He caught up with her within a few seconds, his longer legs covering the ground quicker than she could.

‘I’m probably in better shape than you are to drive, if you give me your keys. Fill me in?’

‘I don’t know much more than I’ve already told you. She fell coming down the stairs, but thankfully she had her phone on her.’ He zapped his car unlocked and handed the keys to Mia as they climbed in. She took a second to adjust the seat before kicking the car into drive. ‘Ma didn’t call anyone at first. I don’t know how long she sat there, trying to get up and failing, before she realised she needed help. And then she didn’t call me. She called our neighbour over the street – I’ve no idea why because Doria’s older than Ma and not exactly able to help pick her up. And apparently she argued with the paramedics about being taken in, and about Doria calling me.’

Mia concentrated on the curve of the road, easing out of it and putting her foot down, grateful that she knew the way and that, for once, Hudsbury’s fog was behaving and clearing. ‘She’s on the way to the best place – and people – possible to help her. And if she’s arguing, that’s a good sign.’

‘But she didn’t call me, Mia, and she wouldn’t let anyone else call me either. She waited until she was being loaded into the ambulance before she gave in and let Doria call me. She kept saying she didn’t want to bother me, can you believe that?’

‘Knowing Sylvie, yeah.’

‘I’m so bloody angry with her.’

‘I know,’ Mia sympathised. ‘But try not to be. We’ll make sure she’s OK, then when she’s feeling a bit better you can read her the riot act. Quite probably with back-up from the medical staff.’

‘Right. Yeah.’ He focussed on the road and didn’t say much more, but every time she glanced at him, Mia couldn’t help but notice that he was getting tenser – his leg bouncing more and his hand flexing into a fist more and more often as the miles raced by.

When they got to the hospital Mia dumped the car in the staff area at the back, grabbed her skirt tightly and raced up the stairs – two at a time.

‘We’re not going to A&E?’

‘Sylvie was assessed and brought in by paramedics. She should be in the acute care unit by now.’

‘Acute? That sounds bad.’

‘It’s not,’ she tried to reassure him. ‘It just means someone’s being treated for a short-term condition. It acts as a holding ward too, while clinical decisions are made.’

‘Right.’

‘This way.’ She led him through a mini maze of corridors that had taken her weeks to learn as a trainee. She hit the buzzer on the ward door and smiled when she recognised the voice. ‘Colette? It’s Mia. I’ve not got my pass. Can you buzz me in please?’

‘Patient?’ Unfortunately, enough of her patients had ended up in acute and urgent care over the years that she’d got to know a lot of the staff.

‘Indirectly, yes.’ The buzzer sounded and she shoved the heavy door open, leaning against it to hold it for Aiden before striding towards the central island where all the ward’s admin was run from. ‘Hey, Colette.’

‘Wow, I see why you don’t have your pass. You look great.’

‘Thanks. Yeah, the lanyard didn’t go with the dress. This is Aiden. His mum was brought in by paramedics after a fall at home. Sylvie Griffiths. Have you got her here yet?’

‘One minute.’ Colette tapped a few keys on the computer. ‘Yeah, we do. Date of birth please?’