I consider this for a moment. ‘Less fat,’ I reply.

A small smile plays on Jules’s lips.

‘Is that the right kind of thing?’ I ask, feeling my cheeks reddening. It’s ridiculous, to feel embarrassed in front of her. I’m sure she’s heard people spouting all kinds of crazy stuff.

‘There’s no right or wrong thing,’ Jules says kindly. ‘Whatever you want to express is valid. So, can you expand on that a little bit?’

‘Well …’ I start, noticing the empty family-sized crisp bag lying on the armchair, which I must have delved into last night after Izzy had gone to bed. That’s how meaningfully I guzzled those crisps; I have no recollection of stuffing them into my face. ‘I suppose,’ I add, lapsing into a silly jokey tone, ‘I don’t exactly feel like my best self right now.’

‘Hmm. Well, that’s understandable.’

‘I feel like shit a lot of the time, actually,’ I add, and Jules nods. Mercifully, she isn’t taking notes or – horrors – recording me. ‘On Thursday,’ I continue, ‘I went out and spent over two hundred quid on stuff for my face.’

She blinks at me. I know for a fact that Jules uses one product, which costs something like £3.99, from a supermarket. ‘There’s nothing wrong with treating yourself,’ she says.

‘Yes, I know – but it helps if you can afford it, which I couldn’t, and anyway, I don’t think it’s terribly healthy to think, okay, if I slathered this stuff on, if I looked a bit better, then maybe my life would improve. Don’t you think that’s a bit … desperate?’

‘Viv, I have to say, I think you’re being pretty hard on yourself,’ Jules cuts in. She looks at me for a moment. ‘How about focusing on the aspects of your life that you feel you’re handling well?’

I clear my throat and try to think. ‘Well, I suppose I’m getting along day to day. I mean, all the basic things happen. Izzy’s well looked after; at least she hasn’t been torn away from me by social services. I don’t seem to have messed anything up too badly, so far …’

‘You’ve handled being a mum, and your work life, amazingly well throughout the break-up,’ she remarks.

‘I’m not sure about amazingly well,’ I say with a shrug, ‘but from the outside I suppose we are functioning.’ I’m starting to relax a little now. If nothing else, Jules has a wonderfully sympathetic manner, and one of those soothing voices that would be perfect for narrating audio-books for bedtime.

‘I’m glad you’re giving yourself recognition for that,’ Jules says. ‘Can you think of any specific recent achievements you’re proud of?’

‘Proud of?’ I frown. ‘That might be overstating things a bit.’

‘How about things you’ve enjoyed lately? Positive changes you’ve made in your life?’