‘No worries, I’m sure he’ll speak with me this evening,’ I say. It’s not Suzanne’s fault her boss is acting like he doesn’t care.

‘Right, so you’re needing your key?’ she asks.

‘Yes, thank you. I’d prefer to keep it and let Carl have it when there’s an actual viewing. It’s not as if we’ve been inundated with interest up until now, so I don’t think it’ll be too problematic. If I’m lucky, the second viewing today went super well and I’ll have an offer anyway.’ I smile. But it drops from my face when I see Suzanne has her “confused” look back on her face.

‘Second viewing?’ she says. She’s walking to the back of the office again, presumably to retrieve my key from the safe.

‘Yes. The one Carl has just done,’ I say tentatively. The knot in my stomach intensifies.

‘Oh, sorry – that hadn’t been in the diary, I wasn’t aware.’

‘He found the diary, then?’

‘No, no. It’s the digital diary I go by. He obviously hadn’t updated his appointments on there. The physical diary is still missing. He’s been very anxious about it.’ Suzanne’s cheeks redden and she turns her back to me and goes through the door. Maybe she thinks she’s said too much.

She’s gone for what feels like five minutes. I check my phone – I’ve been longer than I said I’d be. I don’t want to annoy Olive or Henry. Again.

Finally, the door opens.

‘Well, that’s odd. Carl must’ve forgotten to put it back in. I’m really sorry, but your key isn’t in the safe.’

‘Didn’t he just put it back? That’s why he said you’d sort it?’ I’m beginning to lose patience. All of a sudden, Move Horizon seems to have become incompetent. Lost diary. Staff who don’t know what their boss is doing, or where he’s going. I’m aware I’m staring at Suzanne, my eyes wide as though I’m accusing her of lying. I consciously relax my shoulders and take a step back. ‘Please would you mind checking again? I’d appreciate it,’ I say with what I hope is a soft, calm voice.

Suzanne nods and disappears again.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says as she reappears moments later. ‘It really isn’t there. He might’ve accidentally taken it with the others he just removed—’

Before she can finish that sentence, I turn and leave. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.

My mind is buzzing as I walk back to work – and not in a good way. My palms are sticky with sweat where I’ve had my hands balled into fists. My heart is banging as though I’ve just treated it to a direct injection of caffeine.