I’ve been Geoff’s PA for three years. He’s Head of Sales here at United Internet Solutions, a software, hosting and search engine optimisation company. I was only supposed to be here for three months – it was meant to be just another of the countless temping jobs I took after university – but he extended my contract and then offered me a five-grand pay rise and a permanent position. Daisy told me back then to turn it down and do something else, but the only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do is be a vet, and you can’t do that with a business degree. And I couldn’t face temping again.

I wait until Stephen Jones, Geoff’s favourite salesman and self-proclaimed “top dog”, strolls past us and into his office, closing the door behind him, and then I head for the ladies’ loos, my mobile phone hidden up my sleeve. I check the stalls to make sure that neither of the other two women who work for UIS are about, then I dial Mum’s number. It’s Tuesday, which means she should be at home. She works in the GP surgery she and Dad set up when they were newly married and still childless, but she only does Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The phone rings for several minutes before she finally picks up. She’s had her mobile for years but still hasn’t worked out how to set up voicemail.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” That’s how she greets me. No “Hello, Emma,” no “Everything okay, darling?” just “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I am at work.”

“Should you be on the phone? You don’t want to upset your boss, not after your recent appraisal.”

“Mum, can you just … never mind. Look, I can’t make it to Henry’s show tonight.”

There’s an audible intake of breath followed by an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, Emma.”

There it is, her disappointed tone, the one perfectly pitched to make me feel like utter shit.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I really wanted to make it but—”

“Henry will be disappointed. You know how much work he’s put into his one-man show. Tonight’s the night he’s invited lots of agents along, and it’s so important that the audience is on his side and—”

“Mum, I know.”

“He wants to take it to Edinburgh, you know that, don’t you? We’re ever so proud.”

“Yes, I do know that, but Geoff—”

“Can’t you ask him nicely? I’m sure he’d understand if you explain why.”

“I have asked him. He said I have to work until seven because I was late this morning.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. So it’s your own fault you can’t come? Don’t tell me, you were out drinking until late with your friends again.”