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‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No.’ My voice is firmer than I mean it to be. ‘It’s just sitting and waiting. It’s better you go home and rest. Maybe I’ll see you at the weekend.’

‘But—’

‘I have to get back to Tom. It’s way past his bedtime.’

‘Well, how about I have a tidy up around here?’ Mum suggests. ‘Do the kitchen at least. What if social services come around to check?’

I see the sense in this. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Yes, fine.’

‘Isn’t there something else you want to say?’ she asks.

‘Thank you, Mum.’ I kiss her powdered cheek.

On the way out I think:I’ll have to change the locks.

Kate

8.15 p.m.

Iarrive at the children’s ward sweaty and stressed from roadwork traffic.

Some parents are pulling out folding beds, readying themselves for a night’s sleep. Others are helping their children eat, or sitting on beds with them, watching television.

I introduce myself to the duty nurse, telling her I’m from Child Services.

She doesn’t bother checking my ID. ‘Who are you here to see?’

‘Tom Kinnock. He asked to see me.’

‘Tom’s in bed eleven.’

‘Is his mother here?’

‘She just popped home. She’ll be back soon. Do you want to wait for her?’

‘The sooner I talk to Tom the better.’

‘He’s been drifting in and out of sleep.’ The nurse leads me to a blue curtain. It’s the only closed curtain on the ward.

A little girl with bright blonde hair lies in the next bed. ‘Hello,’ the girl says, all smiles and gaps in her milk teeth. ‘I’m not very well.’

‘Oh dear,’ I say. ‘That’s not fun, is it? But it looks like your teeth are doing brilliantly. Has the tooth fairy visited you in hospital?’

The little girl beams. ‘Yes! Daddy said she’d find me and she did. She left one whole pound under my pillow and a chocolate. But the chocolate melted—’

‘You should be trying to sleep, Charlotte,’ the nurse says. Then she pulls back Tom’s curtain and whispers, ‘Tom.Tom. Your social worker is here.’

‘He’ll be tired,’ the little girl muses, wiggling her remaining front tooth with her finger. ‘He’s been sleeping since he got here.’

But Tom is awake, propped up on three pillows.

My goodness. He looks sopale. Like he hasn’t seen daylight in months. This last seizure has really taken it out of him.

The nurse pulls the curtain around us, then leaves.

‘Hi Tom.’ I give something like a wave. ‘Do you remember me? I’m Kate Noble, your social worker. The doctor thought you might like a chat.’