‘Unconscious hostility towards a sibling,’ said Dr St Clair. ‘It’s common enough.’

‘Exactly,’ said Irene.

‘He might grow out of it, of course. Sometimes these things are resolved naturally and the children end up being the firmest of friends.’

‘And sometimes they don’t.’

Dr St Clair conceded that Irene was right; sometimes the hostilities of the nurseries lasted well into adult life. He had seen that in cousins of his who did not talk to one another, even at family funerals.

‘I had a professor in Melbourne who wrote about that,’ he mused. ‘A rather wonderful book, actually, Siblings but not Siblings. I always thought that a rather good title.’

‘Very good,’ said Irene. ‘Tell me: did you do all your training in Melbourne?’

‘My bachelor’s degree in psychology,’ said Dr St Clair. ‘And my PhD as well. Then I went to Sydney for a rotation of hospital attachments. Clinical psychology departments.’

‘And your PhD,’ probed Irene. ‘What was the topic?’

‘Attachment theory,’ said Dr St Clair.

‘Fascinating,’ said Irene. She had noticed Dr St Clair’s boots; they were ankle-length, in brown leather, like the boots she had seen in pictures of Australian stockmen.

‘Did you come from a farm?’ she asked. He seemed taken aback by the question, and she sought to reassure him. ‘I just wondered,’ she said.

‘My father was an accountant in a stock agency up in Queensland,’ said Dr St Clair. ‘So it was a farming background in a way. But I wanted to get away. I wanted to get to Melbourne, Sydney – anywhere.’

‘We all do,’ said Irene encouragingly.

‘Yes. I went off to university. My father wanted me to study commerce, and that’s what I applied for. But when I got to university I discovered that I couldn’t stand the BCom curriculum and I decided to transfer to philosophy or psychology. I actually tossed a coin – would you believe it? It landed on tails, which was psychology.’

‘How symbolic,’ said Irene. ‘Heads for philosophy – for the mental – and tails for the psychological.’

Dr St Clair nodded. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. Anyway, so I did the degree in psychology and my parents only found out about it when they came for the graduation. My father said, “Look, son, they’ve put your name in the wrong column! They’ve got you down for some fancy degree in psychology. Better make sure they give you a pukka BCom certificate!” That’s when I told him.’

‘And how did he take it?’