‘I came as soon as I could, dear.’

‘Emily!’ I burst into tears, turn immediately back to you. ‘Rosie? Rosie? Look who it is. It’s Emily, baby girl, she’s come to see you.’

‘My poor darling,’ Emily says, limping over, folding my head into her bosom. ‘What on earth…? How is she, my poor lamb? What on earth happened?’

‘She’s doing fine, Emily. Bit of boy trouble, a few too many painkillers, suspected bump on the head among other things. Shock. They’re keeping her in overnight in case she has a concussion. Bloody teenagers, eh?’

Emily sits on the plastic chair by your bed and reaches for your hand. She brings it to her lips and kisses it. The sight moves me, and for a moment I can’t speak.

‘She’s been through a lot,’ I manage to say, and Emily nods and smiles and turns to you, as if to give me a private moment to compose myself.

I cannot tell her what’s happened to you, baby girl. I know she’s a good egg, but she’s not family. I need to speak to your auntie Bridget before I say any more. I can’t see us not involving the police, not now, but if there’s any way we can get away without calling them, we won’t. And if I tell Emily the whole truth, there’s the possibility she might take it to the police. I trust her, but not with everything, not like I trust your auntie Bridge. And there’s nothing to place your auntie Bridge at that house, do you see? Her fingerprints aren’t on police records. The only fingerprints on their records are mine, taken when I was arrested for shoplifting, aged seventeen, nearly thirty years ago. And of course my prints are nowhere near the place, thanks to your auntie. I need your auntie Bridget more than that man’s death needs solving, Rosie. He deserved everything he got. The world is better without him in it. I hope you understand, poppet. What can the police do anyway? Start sticking their noses into stuff that has nothing to do with them, that’s all. The man was evil. Who knows what he would have done to you if Auntie Bridge hadn’t found you?

‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Emily is looking at me intently now, her eyes huge behind those thick lenses. What big eyes you have, Grandma, I think.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I was miles away. I’m so tired. It’s a long story, Emily…’

Emily’s warm hand lays itself over mine.

‘Call me Em,’ she says, patting my hand, taking hers away.

‘Em,’ I say. ‘Basically, she went on a date with a boy and ended up in a very bad situation. The boy turned out to be a wrong ’un, but it’s all right now. A few bumps and bruises, a fright, I’m sure she’ll be very careful in future.’ From nowhere, I’m crying all over again.

‘Oh there, there.’ Emily hands me a tissue. ‘And you get so anxious, don’t you? I know you worry about her so. Have you… have you called the police, dear?’

‘Not yet, no. We’re just going to see how she is, what she says when she wakes up. She hasn’t told us anything really, she was too upset, and then she took some of my pills, silly girl.’

Emily is silent for a moment. I’ve shocked her, I realise. She must think it’s highly strange, not calling the police, but that’s not my problem, not right now.

‘So she hasn’t spoken yet?’ she asks.

I shake my head. ‘I think she was in shock. I should have brought her straight here. She was all out of sorts and she wouldn’t stop crying.’

‘Did she come home then? What, by herself?’

I shake my head. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. And when Emily lays her warm hand on mine again, the tears come, the way tears do when you can feel that someone cares about you.

‘It’s OK, dear,’ she says softly. ‘Don’t tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.’

‘I should have known,’ I sob. ‘I should have brought her straight here, but I’m a nurse, you know, well, I used to be, and I thought I could handle it. I thought she’d be OK. She had a bath and went to bed and I gave her something to calm her down and I thought she’d be fine in the morning. But then when I checked on her she wouldn’t wake up so we had to call an ambulance in the end. Maybe he’d given her Rohypnol or something, I don’t know. But don’t mention her going to meet a boy, will you? Not to the doctors, all right? We’d prefer to deal with this in the family. I hope you understand.’

Emily leans over and takes my hand in both of hers. It is like a warm embrace, like a hug, and I think how full of love she is, for you, yes, but for all of us too. She’s grown attached to us as we have to her. I mistrusted her at first; I know I did. I was looking the other way.

‘Whatever you want, dear,’ she says. ‘Sometimes we need to keep things in the family, don’t we?’ She glances over to you and returns her gaze to me.

‘I’m so sorry we’ve been such a mess,’ I say. ‘With Rosie being ill and everything. She will get over it. She just needs time. We’ve all needed more time than any of us thought after what happened, you know, with her dad and the accident and everything…’

‘Nonsense,’ she says. ‘Nothing to apologise for. And now, I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look exhausted. Would you like me to fetch you some tea, something to eat?’

I shake my head. ‘It’s all right. My sister’ll be here soon. She’s going to bring a flask and some sandwiches. I’m not hungry anyway. I don’t think I could face anything. And I know what the vending-machine coffee is like – it’s rank. I work here, remember.’

She chuckles. ‘Of course you do! Silly moo, aren’t I? Brain like the proverbial sieve.’ She glances back at you, baby girl, and bites her lip. Concern etches new lines on her face.

‘How are you?’ I ask.

‘Me! Oh, I’m fine and dandy, don’t you fret about me. It’s you I’m worried about, dear. Listen, why don’t you take yourself off a moment? Get some air – get out of this miserable place for a minute or two. There’s a couch in the waiting room; you could get forty winks. I can keep an eye on her.’

I squeeze her hand. ‘Thanks, Emily. Em. I could really use some air actually, I’m so stale! Not to mention needing the loo!’ I pull my bag from the floor into my lap and sigh. ‘If you see Bridget, tell her I’ll be right back, OK?’

‘Right you are, dear. Don’t rush. I’ve brought my knitting, so to speak.’ She holds up a book and chuckles.

‘Emily Wood.’ I lean forward and give her a kiss on the cheek. ‘What would we do without you?’