Inside it was thankfully cool. Light and bright. Shiny green plants rested on polished floors. The air tanged with the scent of oranges. I had been expecting the smell of hospitals.

‘I’m pleased you came.’ Oliver ushered us through to his office where we sat.

‘Sorry we’re late. We had a rough night at the hospital and overslept this morning,’ I said. ‘Adam… Adam had…’ I wasn’t strong enough to say it.

‘Adam had a cardiac arrest,’ Nell explained.

‘I’m so sorry. How is he now?’

‘Stable but Dr Acevedo says… he says…’ Again, I looked to Nell.

‘Dr Acevedo has given Adam a 3 per cent chance of recovering. Aside from his head injury, the water that he ingested when he nearly drowned has put a huge strain on his heart and after his cardiac arrest…’

There were three bottles of Evian on the table. I picked up one and took a sip.

‘He doesn’t seem to have any hope,’ I said once I had composed myself.

‘Doctors go from their past experiences. They can be very black and white.’

‘Do you think…’ I left my question hanging.

‘I honestly don’t know. Statistically, it doesn’t look promising for Adam; I wish I could tell you otherwise, but—’

‘We’ve been watching YouTube. There are so many cases of patients waking up.’ I was seeking reassurance that it did happen. That it would happen for Adam.

‘And there are an awful lot who don’t. The last thing I want to do is give you false hope. I can’t wake Adam from his coma, but we’ve finished our testing as best we can without a candidate and Adam fits our criteria perfectly. I’d love to tell you I could cure Adam but there isn’t anything at the moment that can do that. What I’d like to do is to explore his consciousness and see if there’s anything there. It would be ground-breaking if there is and we could develop accessible equipment that would benefit so many patients and their families. Most doctors would tell you Adam’s mind must be empty of thought but—’

‘Brain science research is proving that doctors aren’t always right.’ Nell jumps in. ‘Can we see where you carry out your research?’

‘Yes, of course. Anna?’

Stalling, I took another sip of water before I stood. My heart was pounding. I followed Oliver into the corridor, unsure what we would be faced with. Rows of cages and animals? Brains in jars?

‘I won’t bore you with the details today, but these are our labs.’ As we walked, Oliver gestured to glass-fronted rooms. I couldn’t help stopping and gazing inside. Everything looked so normal.A man perched on a stool at a bench tapping the keyboard on his laptop. There was an array of computer screens and it was nothing like I had imagined.

Breathing felt a little easier.

‘How long have you been here?’ Nell was asking all the questions.

‘The Institute has been running for seven years, but we’ve only been in this building three.’

As we walked, Oliver told us about recent breakthroughs his team had made. Before now I had only thought of Oliver in conjunction with what he could do for Adam, but listening I realized that the research they were doing here could change many lives.

Change the world.

‘It’s hard to imagine the day progressive neurological diseases are eradicated.’ Nell was fully engaged. ‘Dementia and Parkinson’s seem so commonplace now. We’ve almost accepted them as a normal part of ageing.’

‘I’m confident we’ll see big changes.’ Oliver opened a door. ‘Perhaps not all in my lifetime but it’s revolutionary, the progress that’s being made. Not just by us but worldwide.’ He gestured. ‘This is where you and Adam would stay.’

I stepped inside the room. It resembled a hotel. Oil paintings of beach scenes on duck-egg walls. A coffee table and two comfortable armchairs beside open sash windows. From here, we could see the sea. Smell it. Hear it. Feel the breeze. There were four doors leading off from this one. Beyond the first one was a huge bed. Machines I recognized from the hospital.

‘This is where Adam would sleep.’

The next room was also a bedroom housing a double bed and a wardrobe.‘This would be your room,’ Oliver told me. The other door led to a large bathroom with a freestanding shower and a bath. ‘It’s important that you’re comfortable, Anna. It’s a difficult time, the waiting.’

‘We read about Clem,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’

‘It’s partly why… The work I’ve done with consciousness is… it was inspired by my uncle who had Parkinson’s dementia but now… it’s even more important than I realized because of… because of…’