‘The no jewellery rule seems a bit much, but I do support the proper manicure and pedicure regulations – I can’t bear manky feet.’ Jess had not signed an NDA but she had sneaked a peek at my phone when I was in the toilet, so she knew just as much about my potential new job as I did.

‘Hopefully they’ll accept my DIY job, or I’ll be out on my arse before I’ve even started,’ I said, peering down at my newly polished pink toes. ‘Fingers crossed it’s not a foot fetishist.’

Jess pulled an ancient bottle of sunscreen out from the pocket of my suitcase, took a sniff and gagged, before throwing it in the bin. It had been a while since the suitcase had seen any action.

‘I reckon it’s Oprah,’ she guessed. ‘Or Mark Zuckerberg. Or Paul Hollywood.’

‘Why Paul Hollywood?’

‘Strikes me as someone who would enjoy the power,’ she reasoned. ‘I bet he goes through assistants like I go through hot dinners. To be honest with you, Fran, I don’t know how you do it. I’ve seen too many people treat their assistants like absolute shit.’

I held my hand out for the pair of socks she had stuffed down the front of her shirt and tucked into her bra. ‘Is this a good time to point out we only met because I was covering for your assistant?’

‘Proves my point entirely,’ Jess said, jiggling her boobs until the socks fell out. ‘I’m a monster and you’re a masochist. I thought you were looking into teacher training?’

I froze, socks in hand.

‘Did Stew tell you that?’

She nodded slowly. ‘He mentioned it at the pub quiz last week. Should he not have?’

‘No, he shouldn’t,’ I bristled. ‘Teacher training is his idea, not mine. Or, more specifically, it’s his mum’s idea. After twelve years, she’s decided she doesn’t like telling people I’m a temp, apparently. Can you imagine me as a teacher?’

Jess laughed so hard and so sharp, she started to cough and had to pause to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. ‘Sorry, but no, absolutely not.’

I shook out a black jumper with slightly more force than necessary.

‘I love kids, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t cope with them all day long. My class wasn’t that badly behaved and we gave my French teacher a nervous breakdown. He just stopped coming in one day, then we saw him at the duck pond in the next village over wearing a tracksuit with a massive beard. That would be me within a week.’

‘And you could not pull off a beard,’ Jess said.

‘Not with my colouring,’ I agreed. ‘Shall we order the pizza? Large pepperoni and a medium whatever you want.’

She stuck out her tongue and gagged. ‘Why are we getting pepperoni when we both hate it?’