Atticus rolls his eyes at him and says, ‘Something lost, inside yourself. That which you seek, inside you will find.’

From Socrates to Star Wars, Dan thinks. Whatever Atticus is or isn’t, he’s definitely not stupid. ‘Return of the Jedi,’ Dan says in response. ‘I take it you like Star Wars?’

‘Not as much as you, obviously,’ Atticus replies, waggling his toes.

And that is how the session continues. Dan and Atticus playing ping-pong. Dan asks him if he is happy and Atticus tells him, ‘Most folks are happy so long as they make up their minds to be.’ Dan asks him if work is stressful, and Atticus says, ‘My father is an art dealer,’ as if no more explanation is required. Dan doesn’t know why his father being an art dealer should have anything to do with Atticus’s work but feels probing would make him look ignorant and judgemental.

Dan’s nan wouldn’t like the self-assured look on Atticus’s face, or those shoes. She’d tut loudly and say, ‘He thinks he’s something.’ For some absurd reason, the thought of his nan meeting Atticus makes Dan want to smile.

His nan understood him in a way his parents and sister never did. When he was with her, everything felt a little bit safer. He thinks of her going out in her slippers – ‘Give the neighbours something to talk about, eh? Me going senile.’

His mouth twitches. Dan turns it into a cough, drums his fingers three times on his clipboard, then tells himself to take control. ‘Are you an artist?’ he asks.

It comes out like a chat-up line, and Atticus laughs and says, ‘I’m permanently dissatisfied. That’s probably the same thing.’

Atticus has a great laugh. Dan tells himself not to be distracted by an open mouth and a row of white pearly teeth. He swallows a sigh, girds his loins, and says, ‘What made you book the appointment to come here? Did something specific happen?’

Atticus looks at him for a long moment, then says, ‘I’d been working on a gallery opening for a long time. It ended and I felt … bereft.’

‘Bereft as in missing something or someone?’

‘Yes,’ Atticus says, not answering the question.

‘Do you still feel that way?’

Something flashes across Atticus’s face then, but it’s gone too quickly for Dan to decipher it. ‘Not right now, no.’