Past

I have a new client and a new office. It’s on the first floor of an old, rickety building and I hear her running up the stairs, her feet hammering on the wooden steps. She’s late.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, flustered. ‘I got lost. I haven’t been living here long and I don’t know my way around yet.’

‘It’s fine,’ I say, giving her a smile. ‘You really shouldn’t have run.’ I mean it; her cheeks are flushed and she looks slightly sweaty. Her hair is a mess, half of it still tied up, the other half falling in strands around her face.

I wait while she takes off her coat and extra-long scarf, both of them black. The dress she’s wearing is also black, as are her boots. She sees me looking and gives a self-conscious laugh.

‘Trying to fit in,’ she explains. ‘Most of the women here seem to wear black.’

I smile non-committally and tell her to make herself comfortable, although it may be difficult in the angular chair I’ve chosen for this office. I ask her if she’s warm enough; it’s cold outside, the temperature is almost zero.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she says.

I move my eyes to the window, giving her time to settle. The street outside is busy with the sounds of people going home after their working day.

‘How are you?’ I ask, once she’s sitting down.

She shifts in the chair. ‘To be honest, I’m not really sure why I’m here. I mean, there isn’t really anything wrong. I just need to talk to someone, I guess.’

‘That’s what I’m here for,’ I say, putting her at ease.

She nods. ‘I’m not sure where to begin.’

‘Why don’t I ask you a few questions first?’

Another nod. ‘Yes, of course.’

I pull my pad towards me. ‘Before we begin, I want you to know, and remember, that anything you say in this room is confidential.’

She gives a little laugh. ‘Good. Not that I’m going to tell you anything amazing. As I said, I don’t really know why I’m here. My life is perfect. But I’m not happy. I feel terrible for saying that but it’s true.’

The tension in her vibrates around the room. I pick up my pen and jot down the words – ‘perfect’ and ‘unhappy’ then lean forward in my chair.

‘Do you know what Henry David Thoreau believed? “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.”’

She smiles, relaxes. It always works.