Alan sets his pen down on his desk and smiles. ‘I’m assuming you know him, or a relative of his?’

‘Um, no.’ Don’t wring your hands like that, Dan, he tells himself.

‘Have you worked with him in the past?’

‘No.’

‘Then what is your reason?’

Dan thinks of new white shirts in cellophane packets. Tins in the supermarket, labels facing front. The pink of Fitz’s paws after a bath.

‘A personality clash?’ Dan’s voice goes up at the end.

‘Dan,’ Alan takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, ‘I think you’re a good counsellor. We’ve had nothing but praise for you from your clients. I think you could go on to be a great counsellor. But you won’t be able to do that until you’ve dealt with tricky cases.’

‘Like Atticus?’ Dan feels everything inside him crumple.

‘Like Atticus.’

‘Do you think he even needs to be in counselling?’ Dan knows this is very bad advertising.

‘Dan, I think everyone needs to be in counselling. We both attend counselling ourselves, do we not?’

‘The unexamined mind …’ Dan murmurs, thinking of Atticus.

‘Exactly! Atticus is an interesting case. Someone you can sink your teeth into. His notes are brief, but he’s been in and out of therapy for years. Something keeps bringing him back so it’s up to you to find out what that is. Relish the opportunity.’

Years? Dan thinks. That’s even worse. If no one else has been able to get to the root of Atticus’s problem, Dan certainly won’t manage it. Atticus makes his mind go blank and his mouth go dry. Atticus makes him aware of the position he’s sitting in, how tight his jeans are. These are not helpful or illuminating observations.

Dan sighs and looks at his watch. He wants to be on the bus, on his way home to Fitz. ‘I don’t think I can,’ Dan admits, wondering if he’s really prepared to lose his job over some pink suede loafers. All that money he saved and spent on his training.

‘I think you can. I think you just don’t want to.’ Alan peers at him. ‘Is it because you’re attracted to Atticus?’

Dan’s head shoots up in alarm, denial bleeding from every pore. ‘What? No. Of course not.’

‘Can I remind you that a relationship between a counsellor and their client is completely unacceptable?’

‘Of course!’ Dan says. ‘It’s not that.’ In his head he hears Atticus murmur, ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’

‘Nothing like that,’ Dan says.