She was dressed in her usual working clothes of a loose natural linen jacket over a plain cream roundnecked shirt and a chocolate-brown skirt. They were, she had decided when she first went into practice on her own, formal enough to give her clients’ parents confidence, but not so authoritative as to inhibit anything the children themselves might want to say. The room was decorated to the same ends in three different greys and white. There was a large red, cream and grey kilim on the polished floor and the furniture was simple. All the toys she used in her work with the youngest children were kept in a tall glass-fronted cupboard. A long desk made of a red-painted door slung across two low-level grey metal filing cabinets stood under the window. Her computer weighted down one end of the door and the other held a rack of the reference books she used most. In between were wicker baskets of letters to be answered, bills to be paid, and filing. At the other side of the room was a long couch, where the woman sergeant was sitting, and two armchairs.
