My skin reacts before my brain does, blood burning up on the surface. I am not necessary. I don’t belong. I’m on my own, at the very edge of the playground, again. Now I’m looking at the space where the window should be, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

Harri really tries. ‘Imogen, can you start working on some features ideas? You’ve sent me some really strong pitches for Panache in the past, maybe have a look at those again—but see if you can make them completely fresh, original, unique.’ My ears would blink, if they could. What does that even mean? Before I can beg for clarification, Harri is backing out of the room, saying ‘You should have the Brand Bible on an email. And the rest of the team will be in soon, you can hold the fort while we’re upstairs.’

The rest of the team? Great. They’ll arrive, they’ll see me on my own and they will immediately know I’m a total loser, already excluded from Harri’s main gang. I force a smile, using my cheek muscles to force the prickle of tears back into my eyes, and open a Word document, typing frantically. My first feature idea is ‘HIHIHIFWFBFIBIUBUBUBUBUA;OHBBUUG,’

As soon as I know I’m alone, I message Jen. First day is shit. They’re all bitches. How’s your day going?

She rings immediately. ‘Im, it sounds awful. Come home! Be a teacher with me.’

I can hear muffled chatter, familiar rhythms, the notes of conversation ascending. ‘Where are you? It sounds like you’re in a bar.’

The sound stops. ‘Sorry, I’ve muted it. Not a bar, the telly. They’re interviewing a dog who is launching a political party.’

‘Who is?’

‘Who is interviewing the dog? Holly and Phil. They have just established that it’s pro Brexit. Which surprised me, because it’s a German Shepherd.’

‘Jen, I don’t know what to do. I’ve been here for an hour, and I’m already the only one not allowed to go to this big important meeting. How bad will things get by lunchtime? I already want to go home.’

‘Home here?’ Jen sounds excited, and I resent her for it.

‘I meant, you know, back to my flat, back to bed for the day. It’s early. I’m sure it will get better, I’m sure I’ll get used to it.’ If I say it out loud, I can make it come true.

‘Well, rather you than me. I’m having a lovely day. I’m going to have an afternoon nap, and watch Food Network—and Mum’s promised she’ll pick up fish and chips after work. I should have come home years ago!’ I have to put the phone down, I cannot trust myself to say anything else. ‘Listen, I better get on. Enjoy your chips.’