According to what she read online, the baby was currently about the size of a cauliflower and weighed approximately the same as a swede. Or was it a small marrow? Well, whatever it was, she didn’t much care for her child being compared to a basket of vegetables. She preferred the certainty of clear-cut measurements, such as 34 cm in length and 760 grams in weight.

When the lift came to a stop on the fifth floor, the enviably slim girl gave Martha a friendly nod of goodbye and stepped out. As the doors closed and the lift resumed its upward journey, Martha’s thoughts turned to the day ahead. It was chock-a-block with meetings and, despite her baby brain’s best efforts to derail anything she did, she was fully prepared for everything in the diary. Preparation was all, was the rule by which she lived. Her father had instilled that into her from a young age. It was why she’d never left her homework to the last minute or turned up at school on a games day without her kit.

The fear of not being prepared was a strong motivator and had always ensured that she never needed to fall back on some pathetic excuse to cover up for an oversight. Jason had teased her only yesterday during one of his head-round-the-door chats that she must have been a formidable head girl at school.

‘Actually, I was described as an exceptional head girl,’ she’d told him.

‘Of course you were,’ he’d said with a laugh. ‘I must say, pregnancy suits you, Martha. You look particularly well.’

‘Is this when I report you to HR for inappropriate behaviour?’ With yet another laugh from him, he said, ‘I’m going to miss your acerbic humour while you’re off on maternity leave.’

He might not have said that if he knew about the job offer she’d received. After speaking to Charlotte Milner, the MD at Topolino, and explaining her situation, she had expected that to be an end to the conversation, but she’d been wrong. A fresh-out-of-the-box mother on the team was just what they needed, Charlotte told Martha. She would bring a particularly apposite skill set and understanding of the marketplace.

So deep in thought had she been, Martha hadn’t noticed that the lift had come to a stop on the eighth floor. She waited for the doors to open and admit someone, but they remained shut. With a tut of annoyance, she pressed the button for the tenth floor, but when nothing happened, she jabbed it again. And again.

But still nothing.

Hmmm … she thought with deepening annoyance.

She counted to five, then pressed the button once more. Her initial relief when the lift gave a judder and began to move upwards was soon gone when it jerked to an abrupt stop, and then dropped sharply before making a loud creaking noise and coming to another sudden stop. Imagining the lift plummeting all the way to the ground floor, Martha gripped the handrail with her free hand. Standing very still, scared to move in case it caused the lift to drop again, she held her breath and slowly stretched out a hand towards the control panel. She pressed the button to open the door, but nothing happened. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to summon help by pressing the emergency alarm button.