I watch silently as Mags strolls away, an unsettled feeling sitting heavy in my stomach. I feel bad about neglecting Mags, of course I do; Mags was the one who gave me somewhere to live and helped me get back on my feet when everything went wrong with Harry. I’ve been a shit friend, I know that, but Mags was never perfect. I think of the way she wore my clothes without asking, the messages that never reached me, the way I woke up to find her standing at the end of my bed, apparently asleep. And now there’s something about the way Mags was with me that has left me feeling a little rattled, but I’m late and shaking the thought from my mind, I hurry up the road to a building on the corner.

I’ve timed it perfectly. Angus Beaton, head of children’s charity The Children’s Trust, is juggling his briefcase, hot coffee, a bagel and trying to get the door open with one hand.

‘Here, let me—’ I push gently past him, holding the door open and then cheekily sliding in after him.

‘Thank you.’ Angus is walking towards the lift, about to not give me another thought, but I follow him, the heels of my boots clacking across the tiled floor.

‘Mr Beaton, isn’t it?’ When he nods, I stick out a hand for him to shake before I laugh, nodding at the coffee in his left hand and the bagel in his right. No sign of the butterflies that are currently swarming in my stomach. ‘Maybe no handshake… I’m Emily Milligan.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Miss… Milligan.’ Frowning, Angus punches at the lift button with his thumb. ‘Was there something I could help you with? Do you have an appointment with me?’

‘It’s Mrs Milligan. Sorry, I don’t have an appointment, and I know I’m being a bit cheeky just turning up like this… although I prefer to say, motivated and acting on my own initiative,’ I give another tinkling laugh, as I follow him into the lift, ‘but it’s about your fundraising and communication department… my husband donates to you quite a lot, and from your literature you’ve sent to him, I understand you currently have a vacancy?’