Tara found her guard rising, despite herself. She knew deep down – well, not very deep down, quite close to the surface, actually – that David’s impressive qualifications poked her right on her Achilles heel: her professional development.

Tara knew she could have done further training. No, not could, should have. She’d had the time. She’d definitely had the ability. But she’d always found reasons not to. There’d been her workload, and Justin, and Mum … She knew herself well enough to identify the true reason, though. More qualifications meant more therapy, more probing around the darker corners of her psyche. And Tara had done all the talking she wanted to do about Keith Hunter.

Jacqueline and the other therapists thought Tara was hugely capable but she knew that was down to her practical solution-led approach. You didn’t have to have a psychology masters for that – everyone loved a to-do list. But more and more, during the floods, Tara wished she had something more to fall back on to help her clients. And more and more she worried that someone would catch her out. Someone who had done the exams.

David was still talking. ‘I like to think that every approach to understanding has its own particular …’ He stopped, then squeezed the bridge of his nose.

‘Sorry, is the sun in your eyes?’ Tara looked round. Only two other tables were occupied: one couple sharing a slice of chocolate cake, and a woman with a Basset Hound that was gazing straight at David. The sun had come out and was streaming through the big windows, although not into David’s face, as such.

If anything, David seemed to be staring at the dog.

‘No. Just hay fever.’ He blinked hard. ‘Lost my thread. Where were we?’

‘Do you know Justin Biggins?’ The words spilled over from Tara’s brain into her mouth. She frowned. Maybe he had hypnotized her.

‘Justin …?’

‘You were at university together? At Edinburgh?’

David’s expression cleared. ‘Oh, Justin! Yes. With the … hair.’ He mimed a sort of wild bush around his head. ‘Nice chap.’

‘He’s a friend,’ she said, then corrected herself. Better to be honest. ‘Ex-boyfriend, actually. But still a friend,’ Tara elaborated, and immediately wondered why. Why was she telling him this? She clamped her lips together, but not before ‘Nothing bad happened’ slipped out.

‘Ah,’ said David, because what else could he say?

‘He told me a lot about you,’ she said, then added, ‘and what you all got up to.’ It was only fair that he knew she knew about his party trick.