‘A place has come up for two days a week at the children’s centre. There’s an open day, I thought we could have a look around,’ Tom said one afternoon, calling her as she was heading into a meeting.

‘When is it?’ she asked.

‘Thursday.’

‘Shit, I can’t make it,’ Gabriela said. ‘You go, tell me what it’s like.’

There was a pause. ‘But I think it’s important we both see it.’

Another member of the team walked past into the meeting room and Gabriela smiled at her, indicating she’d only be a moment more. ‘Tom, what am I supposed to do, ask for a day off at this short notice? Come on, it’s nursery. Anyway, I’ll have a look at the Ofsted – and you have a look around. I trust you to make the right choice.’

‘Sure,’ he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. ‘I just thought you might want to be part of it.’

Despite the inevitable blips that were surely part and parcel of family life, soon things fell into a satisfying rhythm, that first year working with Madeleine. With Sadie part-time in the children’s centre, Tom was freed up to take on a small residential project, working on weekends and while Callum napped. As the months passed, Callum began to sleep through the night. The following year, as September drew nearer, so too approached the moment when Sadie, who was turning four, would move into the school nursery, freeing up even more time. At last, Gabriela conceded, it was impossible not to believe the stars were aligning.

Then, just after Madeleine had come back from Hanoi, and they were starting to make proper progress in the office, the summons came from the Permanent Under-Secretary’s office.

Not one to shy away from a public showdown, the big boss chose mid-morning on the Monday before the Commons broke up for summer recess to hold the one-on-one meeting, ensuring the maximum audience in front of whom to wield his axe. Gabriela was waiting at the bottom of the staircase while he and Madeleine talked, their voices rising from the room like balls being thwacked across a tennis court.

‘But you can’t do this … He can’t do this!’ Madeleine’s voice rang from behind the closed door. When it swung open twenty minutes later and she ran down the stairs, her fury left a trail beneath the portraits of countless men with all the power of empire at their disposal.

Gabriela followed her out of the building. ‘Madeleine, stop, talk to me – what’s going on, what did he say?’ They were halfway down the street before she finally slowed down, her body trembling as she reached into her bag for a cigarette.