‘Look,’ she said, holding up her hand.

Slowly she made the sign for G, then I. She wondered if he understood finger-spelling, but his eyes brightened, and she finished the word.

‘Gina,’ she said.

He tried to say it. It came out badly but she smiled encouragement, and spelt it again with her fingers. Joey watched intently, then repeated her movements exactly.

‘Well done,’ she said, spelling the two words.

He tried to follow her and got it right on the second try.

‘Have something to eat now, and we’ll try again later,’ she said.

Now that he’d calmed down, she could study him better, and she saw sadness, as if the weight of the world was crushing him.

She ventured to try a longer sentence. ‘Are you enjoying your biscuits?’

He nodded, tried to say something and choked on a crumb. She patted him on the back and they laughed together.

Then it was his turn. He tried to speak some words which Gina almost understood. Some signalling back and forth revealed the meaning: You must eat biscuits, too.

After that the conversation was fast and furious. A light came into the child’s face. He communicated as if he’d never managed it before.

‘I’m deaf, too,’ she told him. ‘I can hear now, but I know what it’s like. Nobody understands.’

He nodded and, eyes wide, repeated with his fingers, Nobody understands.

‘You’re very clever,’ Gina told him, her fingers working fast.

Joey simply stared. Gina said it again and indicated for him to spell the words too. But instead of doing so he made a single sound.

‘Eeee?’ he said.

Something stuck in Gina’s throat. Instinctively she knew the meaning of that pathetic question.

‘Yes, darling, you,’ she said. ‘You’re very clever. You really are.’

This time he didn’t try to answer, but simply shook his head forlornly. Gina couldn’t bear that sight. She put her arms about him and hugged him to her. He hugged her back, clutching her so fiercely that she gasped.