A couple of years ago I consulted our vicar about a matter that he advised might require a professional mediator. “And would you do that?” I asked. Most emphatically not, he said: he had meant a specialist. Clergy are like GPs in that respect: they know when something is outside their area of competence, and when to refer someone on.

They are, of course, professional counsellors themselves. But their expertise is spiritual, not psychological. If you tell your vicar you are thinking of leaving your husband, his role is to point you to Scripture. But if he also suspects your situation is making you depressed, he will (if he’s any good) tell you to go to your GP too for treatment.

A lot of callers at our vicarage simply wanted the kind of counselling that consists of tea and sympathy. Often, they wanted this from me, though I have no training whatsoever.

For many, the best counselling they could have is someone kind who will listen and care. If they need something more professional, any intelligent observer can tell them so — and will.

And this is where it gets interesting. If a couple have a problem with their sex lives, their vicar (or anyone else who has their welfare at heart) can refer them to a specialist. The same is true of other specifics: anxiety phobias can often be eased by medication and therapy. But suppose your problem is more vague: you resent your parents and hate your boss. You are advised to see a professional “counsellor”.

However, there is no guarantee that this will be more helpful than seeing your priest, who is at least bound to be trained and CRB (Criminal Records Bureau) vetted.

Anyone can call himself a psychotherapist and shove a brass plaque on his front door. Moreover, even if you do have appropriate qualifications and belong to a professional body, the treatment you dish out can be useless.

The girl at the centre of this tragic incident was clearly disturbed and in need of professional help. But there is no indication that this would have saved her life. Nor, sadly, is it always the case that professionals put proper barriers in place. Our daughter was treated by a practitioner accredited by the British Association for Behavioural and Cognitive Psychotherapies, and he frequently put his arm around her during sessions and told her how much he cared for her.

I hope and trust he is not typical. Nevertheless, the real problem is not well-meaning, bumbling clerics, students or amateurs who think they know the answers and fail to refer vulnerable friends on to professional psychotherapists with loony jargon. The problem may be psychotherapy itself.

Anne Atkins is an author, broadcaster and vicar’s wife