“Okay.” Sylvie dragged the word out, her polite smile now more of a rictus. “Shall we go in mine? Here, let me put that in the boot for you.” She took Jem’s rucksack, as if afraid Jem might offer resistance if she didn’t keep things ticking along. Jem stayed on the pavement, taking stock as Sylvie whirled around her. Though Sylvie matched her in height, the similarities ended there. Dressed head to toe in figure-hugging designer sportswear, she was lithe and tanned, and her sandy hair was secured in an intricate French plait. She moved with a self-assurance that made Jem’s teeth hurt.

“Christ, what’ve you got in here?” Sylvie asked, hoisting the rucksack into the boot.

“Oh, y’know, bit of everything.” Jem had packed and unpacked it three times, preparing for every eventuality—swimming, cycling, Nordic walking, maybe sky diving at a push—and squeezing in a novel at the last minute. It made the bag weigh a ton, but she always felt better if she had a book with her. At Sylvie’s urging, she got into the car and was almost folded in half as the bucket seat sucked her arse toward the road. Thrown off balance, she knocked a large protein shake askew as she fastened her seat belt. Three wholesale boxes of whey powder on the back seat suggested Sylvie either had a serious addiction or sold the stuff on eBay.

“Terrific for building muscle mass,” Sylvie said, catching her in the act of gawping. “I have one for breakfast, one for lunch, and a proper tea.”

“That sounds…” Jem floundered. It sounded revolting, but politeness was an issue. “Committed?” she ventured.

Sylvie lifted her T-shirt and bounced a palm off her washboard abs. “It certainly requires discipline, but the results speak for themselves. Remind me to give you an information pack.” She sped through a light that was more red than amber and accelerated past a lorry. “I’d love to do your job, zipping around on blues all day. It must be exciting.”

“It has its moments,” Jem said, clasping her armrest. She was used to being thrown about the cab by giddy new starters, but they had a siren to alert other road users, and a legal exemption to exceed the speed limit.

“I’ll bet.” Sylvie chugged her shake at another traffic light, slapping its cap back on as the taxi in front set off again. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen?”