She shuffled a bundle of papers together for him, unable to meet his eye. ‘Fine. I’m fine,’ she said, her voice cracking. She handed him the documents and sat opposite, ready to go through them. ‘It’s going to be a bit of a struggle to get everything ready this afternoon, though.’ She straightened the pages in front of her, vision blurry as sudden tears filled her eyes. ‘Do you think it will matter if the reports don’t go out until tomorrow?’

‘Hmm, Fiona’s a bit of a stickler for making sure people have time to read everything, isn’t she?’ Although he hadn’t directly said it, the answer was yes, it did matter. She would have to stay late now if she was going to get everything done.

A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She gritted her teeth and wiped it away. Get a grip, will you? But none of her techniques for calming herself down were working. Another tear escaped. Thankfully, James didn’t notice as he scanned the agenda and flicked through the supporting papers. He asked her a question, and she fidgeted in her seat as she counted backwards again, willing the tears to stop, not hearing a word he said.

‘Hey, you’re not okay, are you?’ James’s concern broke her concentration, and her emotions took control. She couldn’t look at him – mortified that she’d got herself so upset – and now the first tears had escaped, more soon followed, her body shaking with the effort of stopping the sobs that wanted to erupt from her throat.

His hand stretched across the desk and rubbed her arm. ‘Is there anything I can do? Can I get you a drink or something?’ He handed her the box of tissues and she took one, wiping her face, her cheeks burning with shame. Why am I being such an idiot? You can’t do this at work. Come on, shape up!

She heard him get up and leave the room, and she took a few deep breaths, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to stem the flow of tears. By the time he came back, carrying a tray with drinks and cookies that the group of mums in the kitchen had been baking, she’d managed to calm herself enough to stop crying and at least felt able to speak.

James put the tray on the desk. ‘Look, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m happy to listen.’ He shrugged. ‘It helps to share, doesn’t it?’