‘You’re way out of line here. You know that, though, don’t you, Lily?’

I gave her a level stare. I wasn’t going to be ticked off like some schoolgirl caught with a crumpled packet of fags in my locker. After a couple of seconds, she gave a sharp little nod of her chin.

‘I’ve got professional boundaries. They protect my clients, including your daughter. Ten minutes, that’s it.’

I tried to keep the triumph out of my face. Come to think of it, maybe she did too. From where we stand now, even the smallest, most insignificant truth is impossible to track back and verify.

Her room was as artificially casual as her outfit. The cushions on the velvet sofa were ever so slightly balding, like the weight of all the grateful patients’ bottoms had left them battle-scarred. The round brass base of the table lamp had visible scratches and dents. She would have picked them up at the surrounding antique shops I was sure, the shabby chic aesthetic designed to put desperate millennials at their ease. I found it faintly repellent – when you’ve known real shabbiness, the artificial version just seems grubby. My mother would have got to work on her room with a mop and a bucket of disinfectant.

An uneasy silence festered. It was me who broke it: if she really insisted on imposing her ten-minute countdown, I couldn’t go away with nothing.

‘I’m desperately worried about my daughter. So is my husband.’

Amber sat there meditatively, taking her time to reply.

‘That’s why you came to me in the first place, wasn’t it, Lily? Because you were so worried about her?’

‘Well, yes, but I don’t think she’s getting any better.’

She cocked her head, ruminative.

‘Look, Lily, I’ve made it clear I can’t discuss the specifics, but, the binge drinking for example…’

It was infuriating, the way she kept using my name.

‘Obviously we’re thrilled she’s sticking to the sparkling water, and trust me, we’re all really supporting her efforts.’ A look of doubt, or amusement, crossed her face, clearing so quickly it was impossible to call out. ‘But she seems so angry. So hateful… when all we’ve ever tried to do is love her.’

Amber’s steady gaze bathed me in silent judgement.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this.’

I braced myself.

‘But it seems like you’re here to soothe your own pain, not Rachel’s.’ She smiled without warmth. ‘Sorry, I know that might sound like I’m overstepping the mark, but I wonder if you need someone to talk to yourself? This is about your whole family system, not just Rachel.’

‘My other children are thriving.’

She took another infuriating pause, as if she was mentally leafing through the files on our collective dysfunction.