The Story of You. Katy Regan

       PROLOGUE

       Mid-May 2013

      The first time it happens, I’m on the Tube; coming back from a Depression Alliance coffee morning with Levi, which would be about as much fun as it sounds if Levi wasn’t one of my favourite patients (I know you’re not supposed to have favourites in this job, but sometimes you can’t help it).

      It’s Friday, rush hour, in the middle of a May heat wave, so you can imagine the fun and games. I’m sardined in at all sides, about halfway down the aisle, right hand gripping the bar above, really wishing I’d shaved my armpits.

      ‘Everyone move down the aisle,’ the driver shouts through the Tannoy. ‘This train’s not moving until everyone moves down.’

      Most people just tut and stand there. It annoys me when people do that. There’s a time for rebellion, I think, and rush hour on a Friday is not it. I want to get back, jump in the shower, then pop into the Turkish bakery for some of those pastries my sister