‘Hang on, she’s coming,’ Rachel hissed, and then I was exchanging pleasantries with my sister. She didn’t have much time to talk but told me, quite impatiently, that she was fine, that I didn’t need to worry about her, but that she couldn’t wait to see me and Charlie again.

‘You’ve got a good one there,’ she said. ‘Try not to fuck it up.’

In contrast to Karen’s reaction to my work, Victor was full of enthusiasm about what I’d done for Wowcom.

‘You’re on fire,’ he said. ‘Now you’ve toned down the naughtiness a bit. I’ve gotta say, I never saw you as the controversial type. Must be the influence of your new bird.’ He looked me up and down. ‘You’ve lost weight too. Banging you ragged, is she? You lucky bastard.’

I didn’t know what to say.

Victor sat down on the adjacent sofa in his office.

‘Take my advice. Don’t marry her. Don’t have kids. Don’t even let her move in.’

I gestured at the large, happy family portrait on his desk: his cool-looking wife, Amanda, with her bleached blonde hair, and his tweenage son and daughter, big grins showing gappy teeth.

‘You’re telling me you’d rather have a casual girlfriend than your lovely family?’

He looked at the picture too, beaming with pride. ‘Nah, of course not. My family are everything to me. But those early days of a relationship – all that passion, the constant shagging, the lack of bickering about money and housework. Sometimes I’d like to go back to those days. Just for a week.’ He winked at me. ‘Maybe a month.’

‘Maybe you and Amanda should go away on holiday for a week, leave the kids with a babysitter.’

‘Maybe. Anyway, Andrew, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’

‘Right?’

He fixed me with his most sincere look. ‘The work you’ve done on Wowcom has been first class. Just like your work always is. I’m impressed. And I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming and working for me. Here.’

‘You mean . . . as part of the company?’

‘Yeah. We’ve got a position available: senior designer. Darren, one of our seniors, is going off travelling or something ridiculous like that. As soon as he told me, I thought of you.’

I must have looked dumbstruck as he went on, ‘You don’t have to say yes or no now. I know you like working from home – lounging about in your pyjamas all day, not having to put up with office politics or share a bog with anyone else. But, I dunno, if I were you I’d get a bit lonely.’