‘I don’t want to fly this afternoon,’ she said wistfully to Leila, who was lying in the hammock next to her.

‘It’s the only flight that gets us back to Delhi in time to make our connection home. Plus it was cheap because, guess what, you’re not the only one who doesn’t like to travel on New Year’s Eve,’ said Leila.

Minnie let out a weary sigh. ‘Can’t we just stay here, live in hammocks and drink coconuts for ever?’

‘I don’t think Islington Council would let me work remotely. I doubt the vulnerable members of the community I look after would appreciate chatting to their case worker over Skype, from a beach. It doesn’t send the right message.’

Minnie laughed, twiddling a crunchy curl of hair between her finger and thumb.

‘You never know. I just have this real Sunday-night back-to-school feeling, don’t you? In seventy-two hours we’ll both be back at work, you with Admin Pain Elaine and me with Pervy Pete and his stinky feet.’

‘Seriously though,’ said Leila, ‘how did these people get to be in charge? I see so many people desperate to work who just can’t get a break, but we live in a world where Pervy Pete and Admin Pain Elaine are the gatekeepers.’

‘Well, when you’re running the show I’ll expect to see it staffed by a wonderful array of waifs and strays – a chaotic, shambolic utopia.’

Leila laughed. ‘That’s the manifesto I’ll be running with.’

Minnie looked out to sea. Three local men in a blue fishing boat were bobbing up and down on the turquoise waves. One pulled the choke on the engine, and with an unhealthy-sounding roar it spluttered into life, emitting a cloud of black smoke as the boat chugged off towards the horizon.

Coming to India for Christmas had been Leila’s idea. She’d convinced Minnie there was nothing like a holiday to help you get over a bad break-up. Minnie had only left the UK once before, to Alicante on a package tour; the one year her parents had felt they could afford a family holiday. India was another world compared to Spain, and certainly compared to the cold, grey winter of home. Stepping off the aeroplane was a sensory awakening, like seeing the world in Technicolor for the first time.

There was something magical about being away with your best friend in a foreign land. She and Leila had discovered their new favourite food together (spicy samosas), laughed so hard they could hardly breathe as they careered around corners in speeding tuk-tuks, and had lain on the beach side by side, tearing husks from coconuts and telling their dreams to the stars.