‘Because, as you will see by the terms of your policy, no animals are allowed in any of our vehicles without prior consent, and an excess fee being paid. Furthermore, to do so would invalidate your policy and result in a cleaning fee, plus the forfeit of your deposit.’

‘I bought it as a present for a friend. She just got a new dog.’

You know that feeling when you’re digging your own grave but keep on going, regardless? I simply can’t afford to lose my deposit.

‘In that case, let me rephrase the question.’

I recognize Ajay’s weary tone. It’s the one I would use with pupils when their homework was late and they would come up with weird and wonderful excuses.

‘Was your “friend’s dog” sick on the back seat of this car?’

He says it like a question, but we both know the answer.

I sigh in defeat. ‘Ajay, can I level with you?’

He gazes at me steadily. ‘I wish you would, Ms Brooks. It would save us a lot of time.’

‘You’re right, there was a dog in the back seat.’

His shoulders visibly square.

‘And yes, he did throw up.’

And now his jaw sets in vindication.

‘But, you see, I can explain. His name’s Harry. He was dumped by his owner, who didn’t want him any more – a bit like me, really.’

‘Ms Brooks.’

‘My husband left me,’ I blurt, before poor Ajay can stop me. ‘We just got divorced and I moved here for a fresh start, but I didn’t realize how lonely I’d be and how lost I’d feel . . .’ I sense my eyes welling up. ‘So I adopted a dog from the local rescue shelter, but he was carsick on the way home – he couldn’t help it, the poor thing was probably traumatized by everything that had happened . . .’

‘I don’t think that’s entirely relevant.’

‘Well, it is to Harry!’ I cry. ‘You’ve probably got no idea what it’s like to be rejected, to have your heart broken, to have the person you love and thought you would spend the rest of your life with throw you away like a piece of rubbish – to know how devastating that feels. I mean, look at you; what are you: like, twenty?’

I jab my finger at his clipboard and Ajay steps backwards.

‘You’ve no concept of what it’s like to be my age and feel like you’ve been thrown on the scrapheap. To have to start over again . . . Trust me, it’s terrifying!’

I can hear my voice getting more and more shrill. I’m no longer talking just about Harry.

‘My life is a mess. I’ve lost my husband, my home, my job. I’m depressed. I feel old. I can’t sleep. My jeans don’t fit. And now you want to punish me by being an officious little jobsworth prat and stealing my deposit!’

I break off, my heart pounding. With my sleeve I wipe away the tears that I suddenly realize are streaming down my face.