'She will be a woman of startling intellect. Taught the works of the great philosophers from an early age by her Nobel-winning father and her supermodel mother, Emma studied the cello at the Sorbonne, and in amongst all her humanitarian work is now looking for a new challenge in life.'

'Working for you in your spare room in North London.'

'Learning from me.'

'How will this fictional woman learn from you?'

'Same way you do. And yes, she's fictional, but what of it? Sherlock Holmes was fictional, you like him. Danger Mouse was fictional!'

I wave him on, like he's made his point and brilliantly argued me down.

'I'll just set up an e-mail address,' he says, 'and then write to the clients saying things like, "Colin is in a staff meeting right now" or "Colin has had to fly to New York to close a deal" or "Colin's still in bed". Probably not that last one. Point is, she can be a tough negotiator. Make sure I'm not bullied.'

I consider his idea. It has so much wrong with it that I don't know where to start. So I decide not to start.

'It is an elegant solution, sir!' I say, pompously, and Colin smiles and makes that 'precisely!' face again.

'I just hope you don't have an affair with her,' I say.

'That's the problem,' says Colin, nodding. 'That's the problem.'

The next day, I get a text from him.

'Pub?' it says.

But I am working, and also, it's about five past ten in the morning. I give him a call around six but all I can hear are fruit machines and loud shouting, so I hang up and wait for him to call back. He doesn't.

The following evening, around nine, I get another text.

'Hey, so it's mE an I'm out nabOut.'

I hope this project he's working on is pub-based. If it is, no one can say he didn't put the time in. I start to wonder whether perhaps having an assistant is bad for Colin.

And then the weekend is upon us. We meet for a Sunday roast, and Colin looks shattered.

'Did you get your work done in time?'

'Just. Emma tried to get the deadline extended.'

'What happened?'

'They said no.'

'What did Emma say?'

'Turns out Emma buckles very easily. And also, I think I'll get a male assistant next time. Emma seemed to want to do most of her work from my phone down the pub. A man wouldn't want to spend all his time in the pub. I think she's got a problem.'

'You're going to have to let her go.'

'I hate doing stuff like that. That's why I got an assistant.'

'I'll get my assistant to do it,' I say, getting my phone out. 'What should we call her?'

PANIC