I walk to the front door like a cat on a hot tin roof, trying to prepare both my expression and my brain for every eventuality. The irony that I might be about to create more suspicion than if I’d just come out and told the truth is not lost on me. I vow never to lie again, whilst crossing my fingers that my dishonesty isn’t all about to blow up in my face.

‘Anna!’ I cry out, in genuine and relieved surprise.

‘Hi,’ she says, her eyes darting manically from side to side. ‘I’m really sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here – it’s your free time – but I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘Why don’t you come in?’ I say, beckoning her in from the drive.

‘No, I couldn’t, it’d be too much of an imposition.’

‘Come in,’ I coax gently. ‘It’s fine.’

She stands in the hallway, nervously looking around and biting on her lip. I can’t help but notice that her normally coiffed blonde bob looks dishevelled.

‘Is everything OK?’ I ask as calmly as I can.

Her face instantly crumples. ‘I just can’t go on like this any longer. We’re destroying each other and I’m scared of what might happen if I stay. I have to get away. I have to get the children away – for all our sakes.’

I wonder how much of this Leon can hear, quickly followed by whether it really matters.

He can’t fail to see that here is a woman who is desperately in need of help, my help. How can he begrudge the half-hour it’s going to take to give it to her?

‘Come through,’ I say, turning to walk down the hall. ‘I’ll put the kettle on and we can talk about it.’

‘I can’t . . .’ she says, still rooted to the spot.

‘It’s honestly fine,’ I assure her, assuming she’s worried about upsetting Leon.

‘No, I can’t . . . I can’t pay you,’ she says. ‘For an extra session.’

I smile and walk back to her. ‘This isn’t a session,’ I say quietly. ‘This is a chat between friends.’

Her shoulders visibly relax and the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly.

I’d hoped that Leon would have made himself scarce, but he’s back at the dining table, finishing his dinner and, unbeknown to Anna, making a point.

‘This is Leon,’ I say. ‘Leon, this is Anna.’ He doesn’t even look up from his plate.

‘We’ve met before,’ says Anna, taking me by surprise.

‘Oh,’ I say, looking between them.

‘He probably doesn’t remember,’ she says, as if he isn’t here. ‘I don’t tend to leave much of an impression.’

Leon offers a tight smile and I will him to say something to prove her wrong, even if he makes it up, but his silence is deafening.