‘Sorry, Anna,’ she says before I can react, politely or otherwise. ‘This is a standard questionnaire. Some of the questions might seem inappropriate but I have to ask them. Of course you’re worried. I don’t mean to sound insensitive but it’s important I run through these before—’

‘It’s fine.’ I just want this over with. ‘Yes, I feel worried.’

‘A little, often or constantly?’

‘Constantly.’

We continue in the same vein. I am asked whether I am tense. Whether I have trouble sleeping. If I’m scared I’ll lose control. Whether I have chest pain. Suicidal thoughts. The list goes on and on. Sometimes I lie, trying to make myself seem more together than I am, but generally I’m honest.

Yes, my anxiety is out of control.

Yes, I feel guilt.

Shame.

Fear.

‘You’re doing really well, Anna,’ Eva says encouragingly. ‘That’s the basics out of the way. Now, I don’t want to sound like a cliché, but was your childhood a happy one?’

‘Is this relevant to Adam?’

‘It’s relevant to you. Whether the trial is a success or not, we need to ensure that you’re able to cope with whatever happens.’

‘I’ve coped so far.’

‘It’s procedure. I’m aware some of it feels patronizing and I apologize.’

‘It’s not your fault, it’s… I’m tired. I just want to get back to Adam. My childhood was fine.’ It’s my adulthood that has turned into a living nightmare.

‘And your parents were together during your formative years?’

‘Yes.’

‘Happy?’

‘Definitely.’ It’s my most truthful answer so far.

‘Are there any events from your childhood you think I should know?’

‘Umm, no.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘What’s your definition of childhood?’

‘Tell me what’s on your mind and I can decide whether it’s relevant.’

‘My… my dad died when I was twenty. Not exactly a child.’ I had felt like one though.

‘What happened?’

‘He… he had a heart attack. It was very unexpected. The hospital said he was stable. They were hopeful but… he died later that night. On his own.’ I shift in my chair, my heart racing. She picks up on my increased agitation.

‘We’ll get you back to Adam soon, don’t worry, and the hospital has Nell’s number, don’t they?’

‘Yes.’ It doesn’t make me feel any better. I should be with him, not here dredging up my painful past.

‘How did you cope with your dad’s passing?’

‘It was hard. I had to be strong, for Mum. It was…’ My voice wobbles. ‘It was such a shock. He’d always been there, you know? Always able to sort anything out. If my car broke down, if I was short of money, if I just needed a hug and some reassurance I was lovable. He was there. And then he wasn’t.’