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then re-tucking it, then I brush her hair, wipe her face with damp cotton wool and rub moisturizer into her hands then hover at the side of the bed, my hands twisting uselessly in front of me. Charlotte’s hair wasn’t tangled, her face wasn’t dirty and her hands weren’t dry but what else can I do? I could hold her hand. I could tell her how much I love her. I could beg her to please, please open her eyes and come back to us. I could cry. I could wait until I was all alone in the room, lean over the bed, gather her in my arms and ask her why. Why didn’t I notice she was in so much pain she’d rather die than live one more day? My own child. My baby. How could I not know? How could I not sense that?
    I could plea bargain with God. I could beg him to let me switch places with her so she could smile again, laugh again, go shopping, chat with her friends, watch films and spend too much time on the internet. So she could live instead of me.
    But I’ve done all of those things. I’ve done them so many times over the last six weeks that I’ve lost count and nothing, nothing has brought her back to me.
    ‘I’m sorry, we can only allow a maximum of three visitors at a time. I’m afraid one of you will have to—’
    I twist round to see who’s speaking. A nurse is standing with a young couple, just outside the door. I recognize the tall, blond man she’s talking to. It’s Danny Argent, one of Oliver’s friends. I don’t recognize the girl with him.
    ‘But—’ His eyes meet mine. ‘Hi Sue.’
    ‘Danny.’ I glance at Brian. He’s frowning. ‘What are you doing here?’
    He takes a step into the room. The nurse tuts loudly but he ignores her.
    ‘We,’ he glances back at the attractive mixed-race girl in the corridor, ‘Keisha and me, we wanted to see Charlotte. Is that okay?’
    Brian clears his throat. He’s had a problem with Danny ever since we were called to A&E to witness Oli having his stomach pumped after a teenaged drinking binge. Brian went white when he saw his son lying semi-conscious on a hospital trolley, then purple when he spotted Danny leaning against the wall nearby, one grubby trainer on the paintwork, the other kicking the wheel of the trolley. He’s never forgiven him for getting his son so drunk he was hospitalized but Oli won’t hear a bad word said against his best friend. As far as he’s concerned, nightclub promoter Danny can do no wrong.
    ‘Sue?’ Danny says again. He jerks his head towards Keisha who smiles hopefully at me.
    I look at Brian. To an outsider he looks perfectly normal but I know what’s going on behind his eyes. He’s wondering if Danny’s got anything to do with Charlotte’s accident. His protective hackles are rising just seeing him in the same room as his daughter. I’ve got nothing against Danny. He’s vain, self-obsessed and materialistic – and he’s not someone I’d choose to be Oli’s best friend – but he’s not a bad person, he’s not dangerous. He’s always treated Charlotte like a kid sister, much to her disdain, but I can’t go against Brian on this, even suspecting what I do. This is about what’s best for Charlotte, not the two of us.
    ‘I’m not sure …’ I start, my eyes flicking from Danny to Brian and back. ‘I don’t know if—’
    Brian’s chair squeaks on the bleached lino as he stands up. ‘I need a coffee.’ He shoots me a meaningful look. ‘I’ll get you one, Sue. You stay here.’
    Danny looks as surprised as I feel as Brian gives him a cursory nod and then leaves the room. Several silent seconds pass as we all wait for someone to decide what happens next.
    ‘Come in, come in,’ I say at last, waving my hand to beckon Keisha in. She falters then drifts towards Danny and stands as close to him as she can without knocking him over. I’ve seen Milly do the same with Brian. She’ll press herself so tightly against his knees he struggles to stay upright. With Milly it’s a sign of her utter devotion and, from