She unpacked and squeezed into the bathroom. She brushed her hair, applied a slick of lipstick and assessed herself in the mirror. She was wearing a beige trouser suit Maggie had helped her pick out when she’d started her job, with a pin brooch her parents gave her on graduation from Oxford, and platform shoes she’d scrubbed clean. She smoothed her clothes and her hand came to a rest on her stomach. Another image pushed into her mind: visiting her friend Gilly last month; her youngest child at her hip, bloodshot eyes and sick-stained clothes.

God, put the kettle on, won’t you, while I change his nappy?

She blinked and blew out a shaky breath. She wouldn’t think about that now.

‘I apologise for the mess.’ Evelyne Buchs swept a pile of papers from a battered old chair, gesturing for her to sit. ‘Smoke?’

Sylvia took the proffered cigarette and leaned forward for her to light it. A collection of butts languished in an ashtray on a table, which was stacked with flyers and posters. A sign scrawled on the door had said ‘Mouvement des Femmes Lausannoises’, both confirming its presence and suggesting its ephemeral state. It looked like a basement storeroom.

‘We don’t have a proper HQ,’ Evelyne said in precise, measured French that seemed so different from the fast-flowing mumble Sylvia had learned to keep up with in Paris. ‘But we use this tiny space as a drop-in centre for women interested in the movement.’ She waved her hand around the room, sending a spray of ash to the floor. ‘Oh, I’m very glad you’re here. Any opportunity to get the word out; raise awareness of our situation.’

‘I’m pleased to be here.’ Sylvia felt her heart rate ease. She had always appreciated the slight nervousness she felt on going to interview a stranger – it kept her alert – but it had already dissipated in front of Evelyne’s cluttered table and relaxed manner. The woman seemed about Sylvia’s age, with a mass of unruly hair loosely tied back by a scarf. Her flared jeans and chunky red jumper made Sylvia feel ridiculously formal – and conformist – in her suit.

She took her notepad and pen out of her bag. ‘I’m really keen to give a true picture of what’s going on here within the Swiss feminist movement. How things have changed since women’s suffrage in ’71, and what’s still to be achieved.’