I glance down at my phone. I’ve got messages from friends. Linda, my wine buddy, has messaged offering up her apartment in the city for us to use.

‘I thought we got the message through to the kids about being mindful of what they’re putting online. She shouldn’t be posting stuff like that. It’ll only make people worry and we still don’t know who did this to us.’ I don’t know exactly where this frustration comes from, but I suppose it has something to do with the fact anyone could be watching, even the person who set it.

‘It could have been electrical,’ he says. ‘There’s no way to know yet.’

‘And what about the image on the doorstep?’

My phone vibrates. The Uber is downstairs. I quickly brush my teeth, tie my hair back, then go. I do my make-up in the car and call Anna, the receptionist.

‘Hi, it’s Margot.’

‘Good morning, Margot,’ her voice bright.

‘Look, can you put my 10 am in my office? I’m going to be five minutes late. Also, I have a change of clothes hanging up in the wardrobe. Could you grab it out and keep it at the front desk.’

‘Sure.’

‘Won’t be long.’

The driver senses my urgency, speeding through the streets. It’s three minutes past when we pull up. It’s five minutes past when I emerge from the bathroom in the spare clothes. I look in the mirror, flushed, self-conscious, and stride into my room.

Reporter: A house in the inner east has been the target of a suspected arson attack in the early hours last night. After finding evidence of a Molotov cocktail, police have ruled out all other potential causes of the blaze that has left a family without their home. The fire began between 12 and 1 am and police are asking any potential witnesses to come forward.

Chapter Seven

SEVEN

‘CORMAC, I’M SO sorry,’ I say. I know it’s unprofessional and if it was anyone else I would have rescheduled the appointment, but after the last session I knew I couldn’t miss it. He’s standing with his back to the door, reading a book from my shelf. He turns back. I recognise the book straight away Men, Women and the Brain. It’s my book.

‘Oh don’t worry, Mrs. I’ve been reading.’

‘You can stay ten minutes longer at the end of our session. I don’t have anyone until eleven-twenty.’

‘That’s kind of you,’ he says. Holding the book up he adds, ‘you wrote this?’

‘I did.’

He pokes out his bottom lip and gives a small nod of approval before sliding the book back onto the shelf. He comes over to his seat. ‘It wasn’t on our reading list at university.’