‘Hey, what’s all this?’ Andrew said, appearing out of the blue, it seemed to Elinor.

‘I want Samson,’ Hetta wept. ‘You promised.’

‘And I always keep my promises,’ Andrew said, lounging by her bed, apparently at ease, although his skin was the colour of parchment and there were black shadows under his eyes. ‘Samson’s been with you all the time-well, almost all. You see, while we were making you as good as new, we thought we’d do the same for him. So we tidied him up and gave him a bath, which he badly needed.’

Hetta’s eyes were on him, and she’d stopped crying. ‘He doesn’t like being bathed,’ she said.

‘So I gather. His language was frightful. It made the nurses blush.’

Hetta giggled.

‘But it’s still Samson,’ Andrew said. ‘You can see by that little tear in his ear.’

‘That was Daisy’s cat,’ Hetta whispered.

‘Uh-huh! I gather it was quite a fight. So you see, it’s Samson all right, so why don’t you just tuck him up against you-like that-and-?’

Hetta was already asleep.

‘That’s wonderful,’ Elinor said. ‘How did you ever-?’

‘One moment, please, Mrs Landers. Nurse-’

He became deep in discussion with the nurse for several minutes, and when he’d finished the moment had passed. Elinor had turned back to Hetta, watching her with loving, obsessive eyes, and Andrew slipped away quietly without disturbing her.

For the first week Elinor barely left Hetta. When she needed sleep there was a side room with basic beds, where she would snatch a nap before hurrying back.

At first she watched her with incredulous delight, hardly able to believe that this delicate little creature had survived such a massive onslaught.

Yet Hetta’s frailty was increasingly an illusion. For the first time in two years she had a strong heart, working normally. For days she was woozy and sometimes confused from the massive anaesthetic, but the signs of improvement were coming fast, and already her colour was better.

‘She’s our star patient,’ said the nurse in Intensive Care. ‘She took over her own breathing at the first possible moment, and since then she’s done everything right on time.’

And Elinor was feeling cheerful enough to smile and say, ‘I’ll swear it’s the first time in her life she’s done what anyone wanted without argument.’

Hetta giggled. ‘I’m a devil, aren’t I, Mummy?’

‘I thought you were asleep, you cheeky little madam.’

As she came off the machines she was moved into a larger ward, where there were other children, and promptly brightened life with a feud with a little boy in the next bed. Elinor began returning to the boarding house to sleep. Gradually she found she could leave Hetta without worrying if she would still be alive on her return.

Best of all, Hetta’s wicked sense of humour had returned, and she liked nothing so much as to tease her mother. The long wound in her chest, so terrifying to Elinor, filled the child with ghoulish pride.

‘Isn’t it great?’ she demanded when the dressing had been removed and Andrew was examining the dark red line.

‘If you like that kind of thing,’ Elinor said faintly.

‘But we do, don’t we?’ Andrew said to Hetta.

‘Yes, we do,’ Hetta said firmly. ‘Honestly, Mummy, it was a great big electric saw-’

‘What?’

‘That’s how we get through the breastbone to find the heart,’ Andrew explained. ‘You can’t do this operation by playing peek-a-boo through the ribs.’

Hetta giggled and she and Andrew exchanged the glances of conspirators. It wasn’t lost on Elinor that the nurse, standing deferentially behind him, was staring at him with astonishment.

As he walked out she followed him quickly. ‘What do you mean by talking like that with a child?’ she demanded.

‘She loves it. It’s adults who are squeamish, not children.’ The friendly ease he’d shown the child was gone, and he was tense again. ‘Good day, Mrs Landers.’

Elinor had to admit that he was right. Hetta was having the time of her life. In no time she’d become the leader of the children’s ward, in the heart of any anarchy that was going. To Elinor it was a joy to see her being occasionally naughty. It was so long since she’d had the energy.

Between her and Andrew there had developed a perfect understanding, and she called him Andrew, with his encouragement. To the little girl he wasn’t the figure of awe he presented to his staff. He was the friend who’d understood about Samson, and would understand anything she said to him. So to him she confided her nightmares. He listened, nodding in perfect comprehension. Elinor came upon them one day in time to hear him say, ‘Do the rocks ever actually fall on you, or does it just look as if they might?’

‘I keep thinking they’re going to, but I wake up first.’

‘Well, it’s only the anaesthetic-you know that, don’t you?’

‘After all this time?’

‘Do you know how much we had to give you to knock you out for a process as big as this?’

‘How much?’ she demanded, fascinated.

He made a wide gesture with his hands. ‘This much.’

‘Wow!’

‘So you don’t get rid of it all at once. It works its way out gradually, and it gives you funny thoughts and dreams. But that’s all it is. So the next time you see those rocks, just tell them you’re not scared of them, because they’re not real.’

Hetta nodded, reassured.

‘Why didn’t she tell me she’s having nightmares?’ Elinor demanded of Andrew outside the ward.

‘Because she knows you’ve been through a lot and she’s protecting you from any more.’

‘She told you that?’

‘She didn’t have to. Don’t you realise that she’s looking after you as much as you’re looking after her? She’s very like you in many ways.’

Then something seemed to occur to him, and he bid her goodnight. He often did that when their paths crossed, and it saddened her.

After the day of the operation, when they’d made contact, she’d somehow believed that soon they would talk about the past, and how they had met again. Perhaps she would have a chance to tell him that she was sorry, and ask his forgiveness. But as the days until Hetta was discharged from hospital narrowed down to four, then three, she realised that it wasn’t going to happen.

And after all, she mused, why should it? Their paths had crossed by accident, and doubtless he would be glad to see the back of her. She probably embarrassed him.

But she would always be grateful to him. Theirs had been a sad, stormy relationship that had ended in anger, but now they’d been given a postscript that softened the bitterness.

She doubted that his bitterness had lasted very long. She knew he’d made a success of his life, just as he’d always vowed. She pictured him married to a brilliant society woman, someone whose sophistication could match his own. How glad he must be to have escaped herself.

As for her, why should she be bitter? It was she who had injured him, and if she’d paid for it with years of disappointment and disaster, perhaps that was only justice.

Elinor’s money was running dangerously low, and she started working again, accepting freelance beauty assignments that didn’t take her too far away. She had just completed a lucrative job and was feeling cheerful as she headed for the hospital in the early evening. This was Hetta’s last night, and tomorrow she would be coming home to the boarding house.

She found Hetta in high spirits, competing with the boy opposite to see who could put their tongue out furthest.

‘I should think they’ll be glad to see the back of you tomorrow,’ she said comically, sitting on Hetta’s bed.

Hetta nodded, accepting this as a compliment, and they laughed together.

‘Are you all ready to go?’

Hetta nodded vigorously. ‘Home!’ she carolled. ‘I’m going home.’

A sound made Elinor glance up quickly, smiling when she saw Daisy. But the smile faded at the look on her friend’s face. Daisy seemed distracted with worry, and she beckoned Elinor urgently into the corridor.

‘I’m sorry to land this on you, on top of everything else, luv.’

‘Daisy, whatever’s happened?’

‘That Mr Jenson in number six,’ Daisy said with loathing. ‘Stayed in bed this morning, with a cold, he said. But he took his smokes with him and fell asleep. We were all lucky to get out alive.’

‘You mean-?’

‘A terrible fire we had, soon after you left this morning. Top floor burned out. Everything black with smoke. And now the fire service say the building’s unsafe. They let us back for a few minutes to get our things, but that’s all. I brought your stuff.’

For the first time Elinor noticed her suitcases on the floor, and she began to feel sick as the full implications of this reached her. Daisy read her expression without trouble.

‘The insurance will cover it,’ she said, ‘but in the meantime nobody can live there. The two students have gone to a hostel, Mr Jenson has dumped himself on his sister and she’s welcome to him. I’ve found a little hotel nearby, where I can keep an eye on the rebuilding. But I don’t know what you’ll do.’

‘It’s all right,’ Elinor said, trying to sound calm. ‘We’ll find somewhere. You’ve been wonderful to us, Daisy. Now you’ve got to think of yourself.’

She maintained a cheerful front until she was alone, but then the shock of her situation came over her. In a few hours Hetta would be discharged, and she had nowhere to take her. Daisy’s place had been shabby, but it had also been clean and comfortable. There she could have tended Hetta in peace, with Daisy’s kindly help. Now she was alone in a cold desert.

She pulled herself together. Whatever happened Hetta must never suspect anything was wrong. She was smiling as she returned to her child, and sat with her, making their own silly little jokes until Hetta fell asleep.