As a child Lizzie had dreamed of wearing a white coat, and a stethoscope round her neck, but she soon realized she lacked the bedside manner needed for that profession. She didn’t mean her words to come out detached and flat, as they did at times. It was just the way she was. Those who can’t, teach, her mother had said, so she did.

‘Thank you,’ she’d said to the man now, and walked away feeling slightly taller.

Tess uses today’s paid time with Lizzie to give her well-rehearsed recovering-from-domestic-abuse speech. ‘Communication, communication, communication, Lizzie! Look at Sarah. She’s blooming. You must spend some time with her, Lizzie. I’m sure you’ll have so much in common. Why don’t you come to our Friday film night?’

Lizzie had gone to a film night a couple of weeks previously, and it hadn’t gone well. They’d let her pick the film and she’d put a David Attenborough documentary on, which was turned off immediately.

‘Boooring,’ one of the women had said, switching to a soap.

Lizzie had wanted to tell them they might like the programme if they gave it a chance. It was the one about the birds of paradise, and their ridiculous mating dances. ‘He has all the moves, fancy footwork, the whirling dervish,’ Attenborough said, as if he was commentating on Strictly Come Dancing. She had wanted to show the women that males in the animal world were no better than humans. They dazzled their prey into submission.

She wanted to help them, to teach them things, but she didn’t know where to start. They all seemed so comfortable together, wedged arm to arm on the sofa, while Lizzie struggled with personal space.

She’d said sorry. Tried to watch the soap, but had no idea about any of the characters, or the storyline. She’d gone to bed feeling as if she’d failed an important test. One that she couldn’t re-sit.

Tess waffles on. It’s not until she says that they might soon need the room for someone else that Lizzie sits up and starts paying attention. ‘What?’

‘I said that at some point we’re going to have to think about your rehabilitation. You can’t stay in the shelter for ever.’

‘But I’m not ready to go.’

‘You won’t be ready to leave until you start working through the programmes we offer, darling girl. The counselling, the group chats. The writing sessions. The employment talks. You need to put your name down.’

She’s smiling, but Lizzie can tell from the tight lines around her mouth that Tess isn’t prepared to give her this speech many more times. ‘You need to start communicating, Lizzie!’