‘WHAT DO you see when you look into the future?’ Aimi said.

Sidney gazed at the seascape painting, picturing Dean standing at the water’s edge. ‘I feel like I’m being drawn into the past.’

‘Last session, you were talking about having a baby? How does this fit in with that?’

‘I’ve remembered something,’ she blurted, ‘and I can’t stop thinking about it.’

‘A new memory? One that was previously forgotten or unknown?’

She rubbed her temple, confused by what Aimi meant.

‘Is it a good or bad memory?’

‘Both.’

Aimi did an understanding, vague frowny thing with her forehead. ‘Memory is very interesting. It’s like a file of experiences we’ve built up over a lifetime. Recording, saving, and also recalling information. Even in well people, sometimes information is saved inaccurately or not saved at all. It can fade or change over time and become distorted when it’s remembered.’

Aimi had a bug up her arse about memory retrieval. Sidney stifled a yawn.

‘Some patients,’ Aimi continued, ‘find it hard to draw on memories in a way that can be used as a source of experience. Some people tell me it feels like time has stopped. As though they’re in a vacuum. No pull from the future, and sometimes no push from the —’

‘The person in this memory is important.’ Sidney sat forward in her chair.

‘Would you like to talk about them?’

His name tingled on her tongue, but she dared not say it, in case Aimi told Christos. She was beginning to suspect they conspired together.

‘Is there anything else you’d like to talk about today?’ Aimi glanced at the train-station clock.

Consumer, that’s what they call us. Not person, or even client or patient. Sidney shook her head, not wanting to consume any more of Aimi’s precious time.

‘Sometimes a memory is not lost, it’s just hard to access,’ she said. ‘You might need a cue to get back to it. I know you like writing, so, for homework, I want you to write down everything you can think of about this memory. All that you remember about this person.’