My husband left his medication at home, so I stopped by his office to bring it to him. But when I asked the receptionist to call him downstairs, she said, "Ma'am, your husband has been on leave for the past week."

I sent things. A lot of things.

I rang that ward about four times a week and I knew the names of two of the nurses.

I organised people. I am very good at organising people and I organised about four of them into that room on a rota, and every single one of them told me I was being incredible.

I did not go into that building for the last six weeks of my father's life.

And my sister went every single day.

Every day, for fourteen months, including the six weeks.

She was there on the Tuesday.

I was not. I was about four miles away with my phone on the table.

And at the funeral, afterwards, in the car park of the crematorium, my sister said one sentence to me.

She said: "He asked for you on the Tuesday."

Seven words. In a car park, in the rain, with her car keys in her hand.