Her insides clenched like a fist and her voice pierced straight through the room like a rod of steel. ‘I said I’ll hand it in, Tom.’

He let it go. She was older than him. That should count for something in this world. Next he’d be telling her she ought to get some professional fucking help.

* * *

‘Feel the weight of your eyelids. Be aware of the rhythm of your breath, in and out. Listen to the birds out there . . . the faint sound of cars in the distance somewhere, that siren a long way off, the aeroplane way up there in the sky, just a hum . . . listen until you can hear it no longer. Try and empty your mind of any thoughts that might be going round. Let them go; they are not important. Just focus on what you can hear outside . . . then come back into this room . . .’

Emma was surprised at the power of her own voice, at her own conviction. She was going to get Connie to the end of this. Connie was sitting in the chair with her eyes shut, her hands loose on her lap. Because it was so warm in this place she was wearing only a T-shirt and some boxer shorts, and it was the first time Emma had seen the burns on her upper leg. They covered her entire right thigh and the inside of her left and were now a dark maroon, scabby in patches, a few areas still an angry red where she’d picked at the scabs, the skin around them taut and thin, peeling in places. Emma had grown used to the deep dark gashes striping Connie’s left wrist and the acid burn marks up the inside of her right arm, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to stare before. What a wrecked thing she was.

‘You are feeling alert but relaxed now, Connie, and all you have to do is listen to the sound of my voice. You are in a safe, calm place and nothing bad is going to happen to you. If you want to stop you just say so. Nod if you understand . . .’

Connie nodded.

‘I’m going to take you back to Milton House . . . I’m going to count down from ten and when I get to one you will be in a deep state of relaxation. All right . . . ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .’

Connie was surprisingly receptive for such a combative spirit; she’d been wary of doing this and only agreed when Emma had insinuated that their time was extremely limited.

‘Three . . . two . . . one . . . I want you to tell me what happened at Milton House when you started taking yourself off the Clonazepam . . . What’s it like there? How are you feeling?’

Connie sighed heavily and shifted herself. She bit her bottom lip and frowned.