I nodded, feeling my head roll around heavy on my neck from the heat.

“Now, Fern,” Linda instructed, as she jotted Hannah’s name on the top of her assessment sheet. “As I’m present, and you guys have been paired for a while, make sure you give her a problem meaty enough for Hannah to practice some of the more complicated listening skills.” She pointed at me. “Obviously still keep it safe and appropriate, but do feel free to bite off something a bit bigger. I’m here to make sure everything is contained.”

I nodded again.

“Have you got something to talk about?”

I wasn’t sure. I was never sure what I was going to bring to listening practice until it started tumbling out of my mouth. And now I had the added pressure of Linda observing. “Oh, yep, I think so.”

Linda leaned back in her chair and picked up her clipboard. “OK, right good. Well, start now... Hannah, don’t be discouraged if I jump in here and there to demonstrate a particular skill.”

Hannah nodded and smiled, and readjusted herself into the listening body language position we’d been taught—straight back, uncrossed legs and arms, leaning forward slightly. Nobody tells you that counselors need a core of steel. We’d all basically got abs since starting the course.

“Hi, Fern. Welcome,” Hannah started, in her soothing counselor voice. “As always, we have a short bit of time to talk about anything that may be on your mind today.” Linda was already scribbling on her assessment sheet, and we both glanced over, momentarily distracted. “Yeah...er...so, umm, what’s on your mind today?”

“I...umm... I don’t know, I guess...” I shifted around uncomfortably in the plastic chair, wondering what my mouth was going to say. “I guess I’m a little worried as I’m feeling a bit...anxious at the moment,” is what came out. “I’m feeling quite preoccupied with stuff.”

Hannah leaned further forward, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. “Stuff?” she repeated.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m just getting a bit jealous and paranoid, which, to be fair, I’ve always been like, but it’s worse enough to feel a bit worried, I guess.”

Linda’s Biro scratched around the paper, ticking off criteria from Hannah’s response—jarring me out of it all slightly.

“And you’re worried?” Hannah asked.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want it to get worse.”

She shifted in her chair. I could sense her struggling under Linda’s gaze. “So, you’re worried about it getting worse?”

“Yeah...oh...”

Linda put her hand up, interrupting us, and we both turned to face her, blushing. “Right, Hannah, your posture is great, and your empathetic response is great,” she said. “But you’re focusing too much on repetition right now. I sense you’re a bit nervous to ask any questions, is that right?”