And that’s when I see the mask. It’s exactly like the one in the dream, except in negative. Instead of a white mask etched with white, it’s a black fencing mask. There are white symbols stitched on it. Some kind of complicated organic molecule. The only difference from Mel’s dreams is that with this mask, the eyes are covered by mesh, not plastic. It’s mounted on the wall over a pair of crossed foils, and there are big padded gloves hanging below it. I message Shandy and tell her not to look at it or remark on it. Her message comes back with a mocking tone: Afraid we’ll be kebabed?

I’m scared to hell, but also actually getting angry now. I didn’t think there was any point coming here. We’ve walked right into it. But he’s so mellow, it’s like he’d never hurt a fly.

‘And you’re working on sleepwalking these days?’ I manage to slip this in, and there’s a distinct shift in the mood. ‘Do you sleepwalk yourself?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘And do you lucid dream? I’m in dreaming, you see. I’m a therapist. So I’d be interested in learning more about your work.’

He crosses his legs and cocks his head with the first smidgen of interest he’s shown so far. ‘Well, we’re always looking for new subjects for our trials. Have you ever been in a sleep lab?’

I hate it that I can feel how clever he is. Like a smell on the air. It puts my back up. I’m poor, and narcoleptic, and unsuccessful. I feel like a dirty little animal in his posh flat with his posh ideas and his actual hardcover books – who can afford physical books? I’m so angry about the position I’m in, my own ignorance as to what was actually done to me freaks me out, and yet my anger feels like it’s a foul piece of excrescence and not allowed because rules. Or something.

Clearly, Shandy doesn’t share my sentiments, because she says: ‘Sleep lab, my arse. You should be so lucky. Chaz can enter people’s dreams and I think you already know that.’

‘How would I know that?’ Butter wouldn’t melt.

‘Because I’ve seen you,’ I blurt, and immediately regret it. ‘I’ve seen you in my client’s dream.’

What the actual fuck is wrong with me, why did I say that?

‘Yeah!’ Shandy puts in. ‘You were wearing a mask.’

I want to kick her but daren’t.

The corners of his mouth turn up. ‘If the person was wearing a mask, how do you know it was me?’