In the silence of the meditation hall, Vidor joined the circle of three women and two men seated on floor cushions, backs straight, their hands folded like obedient children. He had already endured two of these idiotic sessions and resented spending another hour of his life at a third. At least he could console himself with the pleasures of allowing his mind to wander when it was meant to be still. Perhaps have a bit of fun with the clinic’s cardinal rule: patients were known by their first names only.

He smiled at the thought. If no one knew who he was, he could be anyone he chose. Today, the spurned lover of a Montenegrin beauty. Tomorrow, the deposed monarch of an obscure mountain kingdom. Perhaps, even, a celebrated brain scientist and OBE. He chuckled. Why not? Who would know the difference? The staff were on to him, he supposed, though they hadn’t let on. The counsellor’s primary job, apparently, was to smile and nod. Perhaps intervene should any tensions arise.

Vidor couldn’t imagine what type of tension that might be. Not when the patients seemed as docile as lambs. No doubt due to the cocktail of pharmaceuticals they were fed each morning after breakfast. Well versed in neuropharmacology, Vidor could rattle off the drug names like a child chanting a nursery rhyme. Even so, he could sense the traces of madness beneath the drug-induced calm.

The leader of today’s session was a soft-voiced, fussy gentleman about Vidor’s age, though his phlegmatic manner and mournful brown eyes made him seem older, like an elderly basset hound. The patients perched awkwardly on their round cushions, a posture that led to a dull ache in Vidor’s spine. As his lumbar sounded the alarm, he cursed himself for agreeing to come here. Though he’d been given little choice in the matter, to even suggest he needed the services of a psychiatrist was a grave misunderstanding. He’d give this Dr Gessen another week. Two at the most. In the meantime, he’d continue to make use of the admittedly excellent facilities before cutting the bonds of captivity and boarding a plane to London.

After leading them through a series of stretches and breathing exercises, Jean-Claude suggested they try a mindfulness exercise. ‘If any thoughts or emotions arise,’ he intoned, ‘imagine they are clouds drifting on the wind, or leaves floating down a river. Refrain from becoming attached. Let them drift.’