Tom’s wretched excuse for a façade crumbled and he slid muttering back to the beanbags.

‘Tommy’s not been very well lately, Jace,’ explained Sarah tiredly. 'And we’ve just had …words.’

Jacinta’s frown deepened as she regarded them closely. ‘I can tell! Jeeez, I sensed something was wrong right away. What’s been going on? Tell me.’

Sarah looked at Tom, who lit another cigarette and tossed the packet to her. She lit her own, poured three shaky champagnes and embarked on a frank and brutal summary of their situation.

By the time she finished, all were in tears: one from compassion, one from self-hatred and one from sheer despair.

The room fell silent, save for the hissing wood. Jacinta fished through her ancient plastic airline bag, produced a small bottle and withdrew the dropper.

‘Come here, Tommy. Open your mouth and lift up your tongue.’

Tom meekly did as he was told.

Jacinta bit her lip stud in concentration and a stream of drops sparkled in the candlelight. ‘This is Rescue Remedy. Amazing stuff. It’s for crisis situations. Do you want some too, Sarah?’

‘No thanks,’ replied Sarah, grabbing another tissue, ‘I’ll stick to my bubbles.’

Tom swallowed and blinked.

‘How’s that?’ asked Jacinta brightly.

The taste was bittersweet and unusual. ‘Not bad. Good.’

‘D'you feel better?’

Tom thought slowly. He felt like utter crap; Rescue Remedy had to be about the last thing that could help him. ‘To tell the truth,’ he lied, ‘I’m too f*cked up to know.’

‘Give it a while,’ advised Jacinta. ‘It’ll do you good, you’ll see. Rescue Remedy’s great. It’s worked for me heaps of times.’

‘OK.’

‘I’ve got something else for you too.’

The slim brown hands dived back into the bag, emerging this time with a crumpled business card. Jacinta flattened it on the coffee table and pointed to the name in sweeping script.

‘This is Claudia.’

‘Claudia?’

‘Claudia Guersenzvaig.’ She tapped the card and handed it to Tom. ‘She works out of Acland Street. I’ve been seeing her. She’s helping me work through some unresolved issues. She's amazing.’

Tom studied the card. ‘Really?’

‘Oh yeah. One of the most powerful people I’ve ever met. She’s into everything: massage, acupressure, counselling, astrology, the works. She’s from Argentina, or somewhere.'

From the ceiling, Tom watched himself pull a face at the new age jargon. You stupid f*ck. You're going down for the count and you still have the arrogance and the energy to sh*t on things you know nothing about.

'Really?' was all he could say.

To be continued...