‘Mindfulness, meditation.’ Marcia again. I tried it. It did make me feel calmer but when I slid down under the duvet, suddenly my mind was filled with all the things I had to do, places I had to go, and I was off again.

Back to the health shop. ‘Put crystals next to the bed,’ said the girl on the till. I came out with a selection of amethyst, ammonite, angelite, black tourmaline, clear quartz, hematite, jade, labradorite and rose quartz. Can’t say they worked but they did look nice.

‘White chestnut Bach flower remedy,’ said Marcia. ‘Helps stop unwanted thoughts.’ Helped a little, but not enough to give me a night of deep sleep.

I googled websites that offered so many ideas and solutions. There was so much advice out there, from drinking banana-peel tea to smelling an onion. I tried no coffee after midday, warm milk and honey before bed, chanting, ensuring I had a daily walk in the fresh air, had hot baths with sandalwood and marjoram, tried breathing in, breathing out in a whoosh, counting sheep, but sleep still evaded me. My mind was active and on the go.

‘The trouble is, I’m wired and starting to connect with my inner psycho,’ I said to Marcia one day when she dropped into the shop. ‘It’s like I’ve drunk three shots of espresso just before going to bed. I haven’t slept properly for weeks.’

‘Ah, that might be it. Do you drink coffee?’

‘Not any more. I’ve gone decaff but that hasn’t helped either.’

‘It’s not surprising really,’ said Marcia. ‘There’s a lot going on in your life. As we get older, we don’t respond so well to changes in routine, and this is major.’

‘Any more suggestions? I’ll try anything.’

‘Then why not give hypnosis a go? I reckon you have to get to the root of the problem then let that go,’ said Marcia. ‘And I know, that’s hard to do, easy to say. I know a good guy in town, down near John Lewis. Simon Jenkins. Pete went years ago when he wanted to stop smoking and it worked, though it took a few sessions.’

She found the number and gave it to me, but I didn’t feel very enthusiastic about the idea and I put the number away. However, after another few nights of tossing and turning, drinking passionflower and camomile tea at 2 a.m., I was desperate. I had nothing to lose and thought that if hypnosis didn’t work, at least I could pop into John Lewis and invest in some new bed linen.

*

Simon’s practice rooms were on the first floor of one of the imposing five-storey terraced houses overlooking the square behind Oxford Street.