‘There’s tea and coffee over there’ – George gestured in the direction of an ancient trestle table – ‘for a fifty pence donation. Do take a step back from the urn when you pull on the lever. It can spit a little.’

‘Right, thank you.’ She sidled away, towards the instant coffee and own brand tea bags, fighting the urge to walk straight out the front door. Instead, she made herself a black coffee, carried it back to the circle of chairs and chose a seat opposite George. Before she gave him up as a lost cause she wanted a very good look at his face.

He wasn’t, she realised, as more people trickled into the hall and all the chairs filled, a complete twat. Rather, he was a high-energy person with a nervy initial vibe. Once all the ‘Welcome, welcomes!’ were done and everyone was seated he seemed to settle back into his skin. He was well spoken, likely highly educated and, beneath the terrible jumper and appalling ‘pulled through a hedge backwards’ hair style, not a completely unattractive man.

‘So here we are,’ he said, opening his hands wide. ‘For those who are here for the first time’ – his gaze fell on Kate – ‘welcome to the Survivors of Violent Crime group. We are not a therapeutic group, not in the medical sense anyway. We are more of a community. We share stories, discuss coping techniques and any fears or worries we may have. Everyone, this is Kate. She’s joining us for the first time today.’

There was a smattering of applause and half a dozen cries of ‘Hi Kate!’ and ‘Welcome!’

‘As usual,’ George continued, ‘we’ll go around the group to see who’d like to share their story but, as you’re new Kate, I’d like to give you the opportunity to go first.’

Kate sat straighter in her seat. She was ready for this; she’d spent several hours practising earlier in the day.

‘Hello, everyone.’ She smiled, letting her eyes travel around the group, making sure that each person felt the warmth of her attention (and to gauge whether they recognised her with her newly blonde hair), then let her gaze rest on George. ‘My name’s Kate and I’m here because I am the survivor of a vicious knife attack that left me scarred, not only physically’ – she pressed a hand to her belly – ‘but also mentally and emotionally. I lost my home, my livelihood and my marriage as a result of what happened.’

George’s eyes softened with compassion and, inwardly, Kate gave herself a high five.