‘I’m sorry,’ I say. I would take them both to the pub and let them carry on talking if it wasn’t so unprofessional. ‘Before you go, is there anything else you want to mention?’

‘I think he’s said enough today, don’t you?’

Her husband chews on the corner of his lip but doesn’t look up as he stands and reaches for his jacket.

‘Do you ever wish you’d never asked a question in the first place?’ she says quietly as she follows me to the door.

‘Do you?’ I ask her.

She moves her head, but it is so slight I can’t tell if it is a nod. ‘I can’t not know it now, can I?’

I shake my head. No, she has to face the fact her husband once slept with someone else. I consider telling her to come and see me on her own but already she is talking to Tanya, fixing a date for them both the following week.

When they’ve left, I lock up my room and wander over to the desk where Tanya is pushing her thick glasses higher up her nose and tapping furiously on her keyboard. She doesn’t look up until I’m almost on top of her. ‘I’m off then,’ I say. ‘Sorry I was a little late.’

The phone rings and she checks the line before answering, ‘Stella Harvey’s office.’ I still feel a tingle of pleasure every time I hear her say those words. As she explains the pricing structure of my family counselling sessions I consider, not for the first time, how much money I could save if I didn’t have to pay a share of Tanya’s salary. I’d had little choice, though, when I’d rented the room with the others in the building. Next to me is a physiotherapist and further down the corridor a chiropodist and a reiki healer, but none of us work full-time and I don’t believe we really need a receptionist.

Tanya hangs up and turns back to her keyboard to close down the computer. ‘Prospective clients,’ she tells me. ‘A young couple having problems with their daughter. They’re going to call back next week.’

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Are you up to anything nice this weekend?’

‘Mike and I are visiting his parents. What about you?’

‘I’m having lunch at my sister’s tomorrow,’ I tell her.

‘And how is Bonnie?’ Tanya raises her eyebrows.

I laugh. ‘She’s fine. Her husband’s away this weekend,’ I say, though I’m not sure why I mentioned it. I don’t even know whether this means Bonnie will be happier or more pissed off.