‘Nowhere,’ I wanted to say, ‘on your couch, here in London.’ I knew where I was but to say so felt like too much effort, like my whole being was made of wet sand.

‘Deeper, down, feeling relaxed …’ For a while, I wasn’t aware of his voice, just of a lovely sensation of drifting, safe and warm, on soft clouds. ‘Where are you now, Bea?’

‘Not sure. It’s misty. Very comfy.’

He gave further instructions and I felt myself letting go, letting go. ‘Good, good. Now where are you?’

The mist began to clear and I had a sense of being somewhere, though not sure where. I struggled to see.

‘Where are you, Bea? What do you see?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘OK. I want you to look down at your feet. Tell me what you are wearing on your feet.’

I tried to look down but everywhere was misty, and I couldn’t see through it. I wanted to imagine my feet, shoes. I wanted to see something from Grace’s time. I felt uncomfortable and felt myself stir out of the pleasant reverie I’d been in. ‘I’m sorry, Simon, I feel I ought to say something about Grace, because I’ve been told about her, but I don’t feel or see anything. I don’t want to lie to you.’

‘And you mustn’t. Don’t try and force this. Lean back, keep focusing on your breath, Bea. Of course you mustn’t lie. Only what’s appropriate will come up. Relax. Let go. Trust. You don’t have to do anything or make anything happen. If the memory of Grace is inside of you, it’s there, if it’s not, it’s not. If it is to be useful to you to remember her, then you will. You don’t have to do a thing. Like sleep, you can’t make it happen, it just happens. You can’t dictate your dreams or who you are going to dream about, so let go, let go, let go. You don’t have to control this. Your unconscious mind is your friend; trust in it. It will lead you where you need to go, so just relax, let go.’

As I listened to his voice, I felt myself drifting off again. It felt good to be told that I didn’t have to do anything. I felt relieved.

‘Breathing in, breathing out … relaxed and feeling calm. Moving down down …’ I was vaguely aware of him talking about another lift, another set of stairs, something about a door. I felt like laughing again. I must be so far underground by now that I should have reached the centre of the earth, I thought as I followed his instructions and fell back into the peaceful doze. ‘Good, good, safe, warm, comfortable.’