‘She was only seventeen,’ she said, her voice like a knife. ‘Basically a child. You were only thirteen. Both of you needed a mother, but she just couldn’t do it, could she? She couldn’t show up for either of you.’

I knew in my heart that it was right, the sympathy that she was doling out for Esther, but I wasn’t ready to share her compassion. She’d been a villain for too long for the #MeToo truth that Amber was telling to puncture my narrative. And besides, I was greedy. I wanted to suck up all the love and sympathy that was on offer.

‘She just left me with it,’ I sobbed, my hands intertwining with Amber’s ring-laden fingers.

‘And the pain had to go somewhere!’ said Amber, loud and firm. ‘So you turned it on yourself.’

‘Dad just pretended nothing had happened,’ I wailed. ‘He never mentioned it again.’

‘But it was your mother who actively rejected you,’ Amber said. ‘Who you went to for comfort, and who rejected and punished you.’

‘I was so alone,’ I said, the pain overwhelming me now. My vision was blurry with tears, Amber’s other disciples no more than fuzzy shapes. ‘She just punished me for telling the truth.’

‘I know, I know,’ intoned Amber, ‘so let’s find out where this toxic bond first started. Then we can break it. You’re doing so well. So, so well.’

Arthur started up with the soft ululating sound that came from the back of his throat, his strong hands working the bones of my shoulders.

‘Where is the spirit taking you?’ said Amber. ‘Follow its guidance. It knows where to lead you, Rachel.’

The room was spinning again, my thoughts wisps of energy that I could barely catch. It was hard to get air deep in my lungs, my breath shallow with shock and fear. It made it so much easier to slip down the path into an imagined past, just as Marco had.

‘I’m wearing a long dress,’ I said, pictures starting to swim up in my brain.

‘I bet,’ said Arthur. ‘My intuition is that you were very high status.’

‘Was I?’ I said, trying not to be gratified. Amber laughed indulgently, and I let myself sink deeper into the experience. ‘I’m in a big room. There’s a long table.’

‘Who’s there?’ whispered Amber. ‘Who’s there with you, Rachel? Look around and tell us.’

The intensity of that day makes the memories indistinct, a camera flash too bright to leave a clear picture in its wake. It wasn’t all suggestion, but I must have known what she wanted to hear – and she in turn must have known how well trained I was to silently intuit another person’s needs and obediently fulfil them. Even now, with everything I’ve learnt, that knowledge still chills me to my core.

‘It’s a dressing table,’ I said. ‘I’m brushing her hair.’