‘Jesus, Maggie, where are we going to put all this stuff?’

Sonia is sitting in the middle of the living-room floor surrounded by piles of books and papers, the bulk of the contents of my ‘office’ boxes.

‘It must have taken you years to build up this collection,’ says Sonia, opening up a crisp hardback edition of To The Lighthouse.

‘Yes, it did,’ I say. ‘But then I’ve always loved books, always needed to have them around me. When I was little my family would buy me them for Christmas and birthdays and then … well, I made a great hash of my life when I was fifteen and I ended up flunking all my exams.’

‘Is that when you were admitted to the psychiatric unit?’ says Sonia.

‘How do you know about that?’

‘When I collected you from the riverbank the other night you were quite delirious,’ she says, her face flushing. ‘You were begging me not to take you back there. To the unit. Look, I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the mark.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘It’s actually quite a relief to not have to hide it. I’ve become very good at hiding things.’

‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ says Sonia. ‘Most people will suffer with some kind of mental health issue in their lifetime.’

‘Yes,’ I say, looking down at the books. ‘But most people don’t then go on to lose their daughter too.’

‘No,’ says Sonia quietly.

I feel bad then. She’s just a young girl. How can I expect her to understand?

‘Anyway,’ I say. ‘Where was I? Oh, yes, my exams. I should have done resits but I was in no fit state. But books, reading, writing, those things were always a huge part of my life, particularly Virginia Woolf’s books. They got me through so much. When I read her books real life fell away and I could block out all the bad stuff. Sean used to tell this story of how we first met. I was temping as a receptionist at an asset management company. I had to sit behind this vast wooden desk and smile politely at all the suits as they arrived each morning. This one morning Sean came in for a job interview and I completely blanked him because I was so engrossed in my book.’

My voice catches then and I stop, lost in the memory of Sean, his beautiful smile, the way he just seemed to understand.

‘That’s a great story,’ says Sonia gently. ‘What a way to meet your future husband.’

‘Yeah, well,’ I say, trying not to think about that day and all its promise. ‘It didn’t turn out so great, did it?’