‘You can allow time to release you from them. Grief and mourning are part of the process, but there is a process. When you clear out the attic, it’s amazing what you make room for.’ Jacob sighed again. ‘It’s not my job as a supervisor or as a therapist to tell you what to do. But I will say this: living with so much pain is neither healthy nor necessary. You need to look at your life and decide what really serves you. And what you should let go.’

‘You’ve helped me understand one thing today. If it had been anyone else’s brother, I would feel bad about it. But I wouldn’t be taking all the weight. I need to think about what that means for me.’

‘You don’t have to carry this alone. You can always bring it here. And as you reminded me, you have friends. You will find comfort.’ Abruptly, he stood up. ‘Would you wait a moment?’

Jacob left the room without a backward glance. Baffled, Tony stared at the closed door. Jacob had never walked out of a session before, no matter how challenging it had become. What was going on? Had his supervisor heard something outside the room that he’d missed? He fretted over what had happened, finding that easier than returning to his own problems.

And then Jacob was back, carrying a slim hardback book with an olive-green and cream jacket. He handed it to Tony. Rings on a Tree by Norman MacCaig. ‘I don’t know how you feel about poetry. But I find it helpful as a way of interrogating myself and my own process. There is a poem in this collection, “Truth for Comfort”. I think it would be a good place for you to start.’

‘You want me to cure myself with poetry?’ He couldn’t help his incredulity showing. Jacob, that rigorous psychologist, suggesting poetry was like Elinor Blessing suggesting crystal healing as a cancer treatment.

Jacob smiled, settled into his chair. ‘There is no cure for what ails us, Tony. But I think we can manage something better than palliative care, don’t you? And so, how is work?’

That was one of the things Tony liked about working with Jacob. He didn’t linger once the patient had understood his next step. ‘I’m on a part-time contract at Bradfield Moor again,’ he said. ‘They seem happy to have me back. And I like the work.’ He outlined the bare bones of his clinical practice, explaining his thinking in a couple of interesting cases.

‘And the profiling?’