‘Tara, most people know what they have to do before they come. I just guide them towards the answer. But I love it when you see the penny drop. It’s an amazing thing to do, helping people help themselves. A privilege.’

‘And can you do it on yourself?’

‘What?’ David’s eyes locked with hers and Tara was suddenly afraid she might cry.

‘Because I can’t.’

‘You can’t what?’ he asked softly.

This was awful. Awful. Tara knew she should shut up but she couldn’t. Was he doing it to her now, his mystery technique? The words were leaking out.

She turned away and stared into the iron railings. Now I feel as clueless as them.

‘Tara …?’

‘My life is such a mess, David. My dad … my boyfriend. Well, he’s not my boyfriend. I mean, he is … but he probably isn’t.’ She gripped her head. ‘I miss my brother so much. And the floods! I can’t make them not happen.’ The thoughts were clear in her mind. Why weren’t they coming out in order?

I wish I could do what you do, she thought, and for a horrible moment didn’t know if she’d spoken it aloud.

There was a long pause, then David spoke. ‘Do you really want to know how I help people? Really?’

Tara nodded without turning her head.

‘It’s the dogs.’

‘What?’ She frowned. ‘What … so you, I don’t know, you …’ She struggled to think of what he might do with the dogs and couldn’t.

‘I listen to them. I ask them what the problem is. And they tell me.’

Tara turned to look at him. ‘Seriously?’

She wasn’t sure which bit of that sounded more mad. That he asked the dogs, or that he thought they told him. Dr David, holder of many degrees and diplomas. Telling her he got his amazing results by talking to dogs.

He smiled tentatively, and Tara realized he was joking.

Oh. Disappointment nipped her. She’d been honest with David – way too honest – and he was trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Probably out of sheer embarrassment at what she’d confessed.

‘And how do you talk to them?’ she said, playing along with it.

‘I don’t know, I’ve just always been able to.’ He looked tipsy, a bit wild-eyed, but earnest. ‘You ask from here …’ He thumped his chest over his heart, connecting on the second attempt. ‘If they want to reply, I hear them in my head.’

‘You hear voices in your head,’ she repeated slowly. ‘The voices of dogs.’

‘And cats. I know, I know. It sounds insane.’

No more than the Angel Gabriel offering Anji second opinions on divorces. ‘And what do they say?’

‘Sometimes they say, “She scares me”. Sometimes they say, “He cries at night”. Sometimes they have no idea whatsoever that there’s a problem.’ David paused. ‘Not every animal is very smart. Like humans.’