We meow.

We do this mooing and meowing for some time. Cyril seems to be getting more and more high-pitched with the meows and really ‘mooing’ from her core. It’s really hard not to laugh. She is deadly serious. I look at the clock.

‘Feels so good to stretch, doesn’t it?’ Cyril says, when she finally stops. I follow her lead, and we both get up and sit back on our springy balls.

‘Right. So, Olive, I’m glad you booked this chemistry session,’ she reaches for the drawer next to her and pulls out some papers. ‘Please fill out this form at home and send it back to me. It’s quite long, we’re asking for a lot of personal information, but obviously it’s all confidential. Then we will contact you with a bespoke treatment plan and fee for going forwards. Oh, and we do monthly price plans too, if that helps at all. Obviously if you don’t send back your form soon, we will take that as a sign that you do not want to go any further. But I must say, I’m excited for you to really dig into this and face the truth of these feelings.’

I take the form. It’s a thick wedge of paper in a plastic wallet.

‘OK, I’ll have a read-through.’ I already know that I won’t.

‘Wow, where has the time gone, eh?’ Cyril says, glancing down at her watch. ‘Well I hope we’ll see you again very soon, Olive. Make sure you drink lots of H₂0.’ I mean, she could have just said ‘water’.

Cyril leads me out and points me in the direction of the reception area again. She bows and says: Namaste.

I feel a little dumbfounded. All the Google searches I’ve been doing run on loop. I liked Cyril at first, she was being nice and gentle with me, but I could also sense her fierce judgement. Suddenly it all feels a bit sinister; what is this? A type of conversion therapy? I wanted to meet Cyril to have a frank conversation and talk to someone who has seen it all. And perhaps, deep down, I did wonder if I could change, if I could get Jacob back.

I shake my head. I decide in that moment to march back in. I tell the receptionist I left something in the treatment room.

‘OK, but please be very quick,’ she says, bluntly.

I walk down the carpeted corridor and knock.

After a long pause, I hear Cyril’s calm voice reply: ‘Come in.’

I open the door slowly and peek round. Cyril is meditating, cross-legged on the floor.

‘Sorry to interrupt, but—’

‘Go ahead,’ she says, opening her eyes very slowly.

‘I don’t feel like you took me very seriously just now.’

‘Oh. How so?’ Cyril says, breezily.

‘I was watching a TED Talk the other day about a woman who had her tubes tied – did you know one in five women don’t want a biological child?’ I say. ‘Next week, for example, I am going to the Child-Free By Choice event. With hundreds of other women who feel the same as me.’