Margaret sets my file on her wide lap and places her hands flat on top. ‘Well,’ she says, ‘it’s good to see you again, Jennifer. As you know, this is really just a routine visit, following up on our involvement with you last year.’

I keep my face nice and open and bright. I’m glad I’m wearing my smartest work outfit. The one that makes me look really put-together. Charlie leans back against me, his thin shoulder blade digging into my chest.

‘I think you mostly saw our psychologist last year, after your assessment. But I’m still your overall care coordinator, so I hope you don’t mind that it’s me you’ve got today. Our psychologist has moved on from the team now.’

I smile and nod, even though my heart drops a bit. The psychologist was so good. Helpful and calm. So many things made sense in her presence. But in the NHS, you don’t really get much choice over who you see. Really, it’s just whoever is available.

‘All right then.’ Margaret clasps her hands in her lap, on top of my notes. ‘Well. And how have you been? How have things been going with Charlie?’

I’m aware of my son’s weight and heat against me. The smell of him; his hair needs a wash. I think about how well I was doing last month and then about the thoughts I’ve been having more recently, the worries that have been crowding up again.

‘Well,’ I begin slowly, ‘Charlie has been doing well in school.’

That’s true. His teachers have told me that. And I remind myself that they would be able to notice things too. If there was really anything wrong. Although – Charlie is in a big class and it’s a substitute teacher that he’s got right now. I’m the one who knows Charlie best. I remember the video I watched on that website, that said, Families are experts on their own children, more than any professional.

‘We had a bit of trouble – only a bit – the other morning …’

‘Oh?’

‘I think … he was just tired. Just … one of those days.’

I really have been doing well. They said I might have a blip occasionally, didn’t they, but that doesn’t mean I’m back at square one. This month … maybe that’s all it is. A blip. With everything that’s been going on, you’d expect it … wouldn’t you?

‘And how are you yourself?’ says Margaret. ‘How are you eating, for example?’

She is looking at me expectantly. Her face doesn’t give anything away. No judgement, but I can’t read anything else in there either.

‘Eating? Okay, I think.’ Although lately I’ve only really cooked for Charlie. By the time my dinnertime comes round, I tend to have gone past feeling hungry.

Margaret lets out a little sigh. ‘And your sleep? How has that been?’