Louis heaved an exaggerated sigh, grabbed the red headphones that had been looped around his neck, rammed them on to his head, yelled something about it always being the same with me, how I only cared about my job, then he pushed off with his right foot and launched the skateboard down the sloping pavement. If I hadn’t been talking to JP – the emergency was a problem with some PowerPoint slides that needed redoing – I’d have had a maternal reflex and yelled, Slow down – you’re going too fast, which annoys any child over kindergarten age, the sort of reprimand that’s useless, in theory, but which, in practice, can always stir a half-sleeping conscience. The cry remained unuttered. Having kids is frowned on at Hégémonie, even if the official policy is clear: Hégémonie is pro gender equality; Hégémonie invests in the careers of women in the company. There’s always a gulf between theory, stated policy, and practice, that other face of the same company, those unsaid things that result in a ridiculously low number of women on the boards of large corporates. I’d always fought to get to the top, so it was out of the question to display the slightest maternal streak in the midst of a work conversation, even on a Saturday, even at 10:31.

While JP was telling me about the changes that needed to be made by Sunday evening, I kept half an eye on Louis, who was definitely going too fast. I noticed the headphones glued to his ears, and I distinctly remember hoping he hadn’t turned the volume up too loud, and that he was aware how fast he was going. I shook my head, telling myself he was a big boy now, that I had to stop worrying about every little thing, about everything, about nothing – especially about nothing. It’s incredible all the thoughts that occur in the space of a few seconds. It’s incredible how a few seconds can become so painfully etched in your mind.

Last glance at my smartphone screen. It’s 10:32. I tell myself I must put the phone down on JP in three minutes max, because we’re close to the Métro station.