‘Bea! Honey, it’s so good to see you. We’re full steam ahead. You’re over there,’ she says, pointing to a couple of cleverly converted easel-like contraptions. ‘You can see your sign above your area. Are you happy to dress it yourself?’

‘Yes, of course, very. I’ll go do that now and get out of your hair.’ Talking of hair, she looks amazing: she is wearing a well-fitted jumpsuit with a bold print. If I were organizing a pop-up, I would not look so fashionable.

‘Thanks, honey. I’ll come find you after I’ve sorted out all the last-minute logistics. Sorry, it’s gone totally crazy.’

I scoot away, hoping I didn’t add to the last-minute fray, and display my cards alongside the filched succulent. I add a mini red and white striped scarf around the pot to make it look more festive.

As I’m packing up the boxes to use again later, Michelle comes over.

‘These look great!’

‘Thanks – I brought a few more than you said, I hope that’s OK.’

‘It’s your space, you can do with it what you like. I’m just happy you were able to come.’

This is the time for me to emphasize how very excited I am for the opportunity, to show her how much I could add to her repertoire.

I get ready with my spiel and take a big breath in.

‘I—’

‘Michelle!’ My speech is interrupted by another clipboard-wielding person. ‘Michelle! We have a problem. The guy we hired to play Rudolph isn’t coming. His train is stuck.’

‘OK, that’s OK.’ Michelle’s face suggests this is not OK. ‘We can find someone else. We have the costume. All we need to do is find someone who can fit into it, and is OK with kids.’

‘They need to be DBS checked.’

I can’t fucking believe it.

This is my moment. I raise my hand.

They both look at me, a hint of annoyance in their eyes. I don’t think they want to be interrupted. Especially by someone who apparently thinks they’re still in school.

‘I, uh, I have a DBS check. I mean, it’s a couple of years old, but I don’t think they have an official expiry date.’

I can see Michelle’s eyes travel up and down my body, taking vague measurements. When they reach my face, they light up.

‘I think you’ve just saved the day.’

When I first put the costume on and looked in the mirror, I really tried to be one with Rudolph. But two hours later, I’m ready to cry.

I thought the present outfit was cumbersome, but this is far worse. I can’t breathe very well as the costume has a full-on reindeer head, I keep tripping up over my enlarged feet, my vision is severely restricted, there is no secret hiding place for snacks, and despite the fact the costume is on the large side, I have a massive wedgie that I can’t undo because my hands are now hooves.

But, on the flipside, I’m proving my worth to Michelle, even if in a slightly different manner to the one I’d envisaged. Still, the hope of acceptance keeps me going. I’ve forced my way on to her team, and now I need to keep these kids entertained and not knock any of them over. This task is trickier said than done, as although moving is hard, talking is impossible, and so the only way I can entertain them is through movement. It’s quite the conundrum.