She gave a sage nod.

‘You don’t strike me as a disruptor, Rachel, with your A grades and your first-class degree.’ I remember being surprised by how thorough Mum must have been, the level of detail she’d bothered to impart. It made me feel instantly guilty for the fact that I was sitting here, slyly sliding blame over to her for my own revolting behaviour.

Then I started to think about the endless boring work meetings that were coming my way, the inevitable chat with Julia about whether or not she should go vegan. I needed to get a grip.

I picked up my bag. ‘I should go.’

‘Of course,’ smiled Amber. ‘I’m sorry that I overran.’

‘No, it was really nice of you to give me that time…’ I said. It was harder than I expected to actually leave.

‘Just think about what we talked about,’ Amber added. She nested her fingers together and stretched them out in front of her, silently acknowledging the session was closing. ‘I think you’re a very special young woman – a bright spirit that wants to shine – and I’m hoping once we’ve done our work together, you won’t even need me to tell you that. You’ll own it.’

Her faith in me – even if Mum had paid for it – made sharp tears prickle behind my eyes. It was amazing and agonizing all at once.

‘Thanks,’ I said, standing up so fast that the blood rushed to my head. She must have seen my fingers grasp for the arm of the plush sofa.

‘I know you have to get to work, but let’s just take a couple more minutes to really close out the session,’ she said.

I sunk down heavily: suddenly the outside world felt like way too much. Amber reached under the coffee table and pulled out a black box. Inside was a huge lump of pink crystal which she planted ceremoniously between us.

‘Forgive me the hippy dippy stuff, but this is a piece of rose quartz. A shaman who…’ her voice had a tremor to it. ‘He’s been life-changing – he blessed it in service of all my clients.’ Her eyes were bright, as if the very thought of him was overwhelming to her. ‘Let’s just place our fingers on it.’ I stretched out a tentative hand. As the pads of my fingers settled on it, something unquiet inside me settled too. ‘That’s it. Let it heal you,’ murmured Amber, her lids heavy, eyes half closed.

Now she was emitting not words but a tone, a sound that was somewhere between pain and ecstasy. Her face was turned upwards, towards what – a god that only she could see? I looked away as the noise she made filled the room: it was too intimate, like I’d caught her with a hand surreptitiously stuffed down her knickers.