Phone in hand, I search the hospital’s name on Chrome then call the number that comes up. A woman answers, the sound of pen on paper underneath the receiver reminding me to release the grip on mine.

‘Hello, ward 9, Children’s. Helen speaking.’

Lip firmly held between teeth, I force my heart to slow and my voice to steady. ‘Hi, my son, Oliver Sanglin was in with you about three days ago. He was under Doctor… erm, sorry I can’t remember his name.’

‘Little Oli, yeah I remember him. What was your question?’

‘I was waiting to hear back from the Doctor about how he’s getting on at the mental health facility. He said he would get back to me by yesterday about the initial findings, but I think I’d rather just have him home and take m...

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