She falls heavily onto the couch. ‘I understand how hard the last few days have been; waking up to the sickening reality that after today, we can no longer say, “This time last year, Ben was alive.”’

I nod, knowing first-hand what a devastating milestone that is. It suddenly feels that the person you love and miss more than life itself is so much further away than they were before.

‘But I never dreamt he would take it out on the children,’ she says. ‘Doing what he did to me the other night was shock enough . . . but the children?’ She shakes her head. ‘I can’t have that. I won’t have that.’

I sit next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee. Every part of my training told me to keep a distance from my clients, both literally and metaphorically, but it goes against human nature to see someone this distressed and not reach out a hand to comfort them.

‘You and the children can stay here whilst we figure out a game plan,’ I say.

‘I couldn’t . . .’ she chokes. ‘I—’

‘It’s OK,’ I say.

‘I don’t want to cause a problem between you and your husband,’ she says, her eyes searching mine.

‘Why would you think that?’ I ask, hoping that she can’t see through my veneer.

‘He didn’t seem very happy that I was here the other night,’ she says. ‘And the last thing I want to do is make things difficult for you.’

‘It’s absolutely fine,’ I say. ‘He was probably just distracted because he’s got a lot going on.’

She tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘Could I . . . could I get a glass of water?’ she asks, her voice hoarse.

I look around for the jug I always bring down with me, but remember I was caught on the hop, so didn’t get around to it.

‘I’ll go and get you one,’ I say, starting to stand up before thinking better of it. I really don’t want to leave her on her own.

‘It’s fine,’ she says, as if reading my mind. ‘I’ll be OK.’

I spend the time it takes me to walk up the path back to the house to practise what I’m going to say to Leon. But then I wonder if it might be the distraction we need, I need, to hold off the freight train that’s railroading my life right now.

‘Hello,’ he shouts down the phone, when I call him from the kitchen whilst waiting for the tap to run cold.

‘Hi, it’s me, I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to give you the heads up that Anna, the woman you met the other night, is going to stay with us for a few days – with her children.’