I look down at the stark white floor, remembering the flashback I had at Larkfields yesterday: Elspeth begging me not to put her in the car and then that flash of red, the person standing on the riverbank.

‘Maggie?’

I lift my head. Julia is looking at me quizzically.

‘I can’t really remember anything, just fragments. It’s like I’m being tormented by these flashbacks, like that’s all I’m going to get.’

‘Maggie, there is a good chance that your memory of that evening will return,’ says Julia. ‘But it’s a long process and …’ She pauses then looks down at her keypad as if trying to find the right words to say to me.

‘What?’ I say, looking up at her pleadingly. ‘I will get there, won’t I? I will remember what happened that night? I mean, I have to remember.’

‘We can try our best,’ she says, folding her hands together. ‘But you have to be prepared for the worst too.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ she says. ‘People assume that the brain retains every single memory we have and stores it away neatly but that’s not the case. The brain is very much like a computer. It only saves the memories that are regularly recalled, the rest are just deleted.’

‘What are you saying?’ I gasp, my hands beginning to tremble again. ‘That I might never remember what happened that night?’

‘No,’ says Julia. ‘I’m just trying to make you aware of every eventuality. In cases like yours when the patient has experienced a traumatic event, the brain can actually wipe out a memory. It’s like an act of self-preservation. That way the person doesn’t have to relive the trauma.’

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. My chest tightens and the panic attack that has been threatening all morning envelops me with a violent force. My heart pounds so fast it feels like I’m about to die.

‘Maggie,’ says Julia, getting out of her seat. ‘Are you okay?’

She puts her hands on my shoulders. I stare into her eyes, desperately trying to control my breathing, but it’s like I’ve got an elastic band tightening round my heart.

‘I can’t … catch my breath,’ I gasp.

‘Maggie, listen,’ says Julia, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘I want you to inhale very slowly through your nose, okay?’

I keep my gaze on her as I follow her instructions.

‘Really deeply,’ she says. ‘Inhale as far as you can go then hold that breath until I tell you to let go.’

I do as she says.

‘Now exhale.’

I breathe out.

‘And again,’ she says.

I inhale. Hold. Then on Julia’s nod, I exhale, and the room stops spinning.

My heart rate slows down. It’s over.

‘Thank you,’ I say, feeling embarrassed. ‘I’m okay now.’

‘Would you like some water?’ says Julia.