It was one of those things that made Ruth feel old, even at twenty-eight. The name had been announced at Ben’s Monday meeting and there had been a stark divide in the open-plan office space; the people her own age or older who had nodded in acknowledgement or even looked excited, versus the two or three blank-faced younger ones.

‘Who’s that, then?’ Keeley hissed over the desk, pulling a face.

‘Scottish pop star from the early Nineties,’ Ruth said, and Keeley nodded, went back to her screen, leaving Ruth feeling like she should have explained better.

Ben continued on, enthusing just as much as he always did about the new signing. ‘Something really bold and new that’s going to open up multiple markets for us: the folk dimension, people attracted in by her name, and hopefully also a much younger audience – I mean, she’s talking about bringing in grime artists on this. That’s going to have huge youth appeal. We could cross-promote it to schools as a teaching aid. It all just seems like a really good idea.’

Ruth had always loved this in him, the sweet excitement over every new project, the way he could always be totally convinced by an artist with a bit of passion to hoof off into a commitment that numerous other record companies would have already passed on. It usually meant a nightmarish web of his printed-off emails to untangle in order to make the thing actually happen, but that was her job, and she was good at it. She’d always enjoyed bringing order to chaos and Ben Vey’s shambling folk-music label had been a swamp of dust when she’d taken over the admin side of things a few years ago. He was waiting for her at his desk after the meeting, loose sheets stuffed haphazardly into the poly pockets she’d patiently taught him to use if he had to keep a paper trail for everything.

‘So, Clio Campbell then?’ she’d asked as she perched on his desk, trying to sound casual. She’d felt a little prickling of excitement when she’d first seen the name down in his diary but hadn’t wanted to enquire too obviously. She liked to let Ben do his thing out there. It was why they worked well together.

‘Were you aware of her before this? You would have been a child, no? A teenager? Sorry. I’m never sure what sort of reach people have to the younger generation.’

‘I was twelve, when she was famous. And yeah, I was a bit of a fan.’

Aware of her. Seven years ago, when she’d come out to Becca, one of her oldest friends from school, Becca had laughed over her pint and said, ‘Well, yeah. There was that Clio Campbell thing, wasn’t there. I mean, you were obsessed. I think I knew from round about then, really.’