‘Yes, yes, it is. Dr Franco just rents a room here. He’s a psychiatrist or . . . psychologist. I always get confused. He’s not here all the time, though. He also works with inpatients at some hospital in Ealing.’ A strange look I was unable to interpret washed over your eyes. ‘Anyway, Dr Stevens, I’d better . . .’ I returned to the desk and picked up the mug.

‘Alison, isn’t it?’

You have no idea how much that stung. ‘Constance.’

‘Constance . . . of course, Constance. I’m sorry. I’m terrible with names.’

‘Alison’s in reception.’ I took the mug to the sink and rinsed it along with the residue of my breakfast.

‘And the office manager is Linda? Is that right? Is that it, then?’

‘Yes. Yes, that’s right. Apart from the R—’ I stopped myself. ‘Carol and Janet, the agency nurses. They’re just part-time, covering maternity leave. For Rayowa, the proper nurse.’

‘Well, thank you, Constance. For saving me from embarrassing myself again.’

I smiled, then turned back towards you, shaking the mug free of water. ‘I’ll leave all Dr Williams’s medical things here, but let me know if you need anything ordering. Stationery or other supplies.’

‘Are you feeling better?’

I dared to look at you properly, but your smile caught me off guard. ‘Yes, Dr Stevens. I feel fine now. Thank you . . . I’m just embarrassed, that’s all. Your first day as well.’

‘Yes, I prefer at least a week to go by before the staff vomit in my presence.’

I would have smiled back had I not been so mortified. Instead, I quickly grabbed the box and said, ‘I’ll let you settle in, Dr Stevens, shall I? Get the rest later?’

You followed me to the door. Held it open like the gentleman I thought you were. It was then I caught your eyes directly for the first time. They were cold in the paleness of their grey. Unnervingly familiar. I turned my head, focused on a bald patch of carpet until you said, ‘You couldn’t possibly get me a coffee, could you? White, one sugar. Strong but milky.’

I didn’t see much more of you during that first day. Not as much as I’d hoped, anyway. Most of Dr Williams’s patients cancelled, and I went to your room only twice. Once with the cup of coffee you requested, which had taken three attempts to get right. I was unsure what was meant by ‘strong but milky’. I’d made the first too weak, so chucked it down the sink. The second, I was certain I’d overdone the sugar, so remade it with a level spoonful. After placing the third version in front of you, I loitered at the door, waiting for the verdict, which judging by your expression, wasn’t very good at all. I was so annoyed at myself for not sticking with the sweeter one.