It was much like delicate dentistry. Harriet magnified and examined, jabbing and poking, blowing air on corners of Thea’s mind that Thea hadn’t really known existed, manoeuvring around any white-hot patches where a nerve throbbed. Questions and topics ranged from her childhood to what perfume she wore, the future of robotics to what type of tea she drank. Thea didn’t know what the “correct” answers were, so had no clue as to whether she was doing well – or not.

She liked to do well.

After about half an hour, Harriet sighed happily and stretched her shoulders.

‘Well, it’s been lovely meeting you. We’ll be in touch to let you know if you have been selected for preliminary testing.’

Once again, she grasped the handle of her mug, a natural move to finish the drink before she left. Before she could stop herself, she had taken a large gulp and that was when Thea knew that Harriet’s foundation was worth the money: it hid the shade of puce she must have turned when she finally tasted the coffee.

Only later, when she was vacuuming the stiletto pocks from the carpet, did Thea realize that she’d never told anyone from Ing Enterprises about The Menopausal Army, or even her mother’s name.

Chapter 6

A beard spoke to her.

‘My name is Rory. I’ll be looking after you tonight,’ it explained. There was a face amongst the hair but, mired in grogginess, Thea couldn’t focus on it.

A door slid open with a sigh.

‘This is your preliminary sleep assessment. You passed the interview stage – well done. We have a few questions to get through first, just some routine paperwork, and then we can begin. You will spend the night here, and we’ll monitor your sleep. As you know, this is the final stage. If we approve you here, that’s it – you’re in. You have your overnight bag?’

The building she’d arrived at was nothing special and, frankly, special was what Thea had been expecting. The clinic room had made up for that a little with its white surfaces like shiny icing on a cake. It was small but more expensively fitted out than the whole of her own house. The bed had a reassuringly plump mattress. At least she’d be comfortable whilst lying awake in the dark for the whole night.

‘I can watch TV?’ Thea asked.

Rory smiled, but it was hard to see under the beard. His eyes were kind though. He was the only slightly scruffy thing about the room with his saggy trousers and a faded T-shirt that had once probably had a superhero reference on it.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’re not in prison, Miss Mackenzie.’

Sleep was a demanding god who required silk pillowcases and expensive room sprays, hypnotherapy and the soundtrack of a gentle river flowing through a forest. She’d tried everything.

Except this.

‘Ready?’ Rory asked.