The week after dinner at Max’s was strange. It had been stickily warm all week, but when Chloe woke one morning she felt her skin puckering with goose pimples and pulled the sheet, swapped for the oppressively hot duvet a couple of weeks ago, over her body. The sky outside was blue-grey and the sun non-existent. Summer felt like a hallucination, rather than a reality that had been entirely normal the day before. When she got up none of the summer dresses she favoured during the school holidays, strappy cotton things in various ice-cream shades, afforded the warmth she wanted. She had planned to enjoy the warm weather, to sit outside reading a book and, finally, having finished sorting out everything she had neglected in the rush of report writing and end-of-term excitement, to make use of the ‘long holidays’ everyone was so convinced she got. It was the favourite comment of Rav’s friends. ‘Three reasons to be a teacher,’ they would smirk at dinner parties or barbecues. ‘Easter, summer, Christmas.’ It was an unfair joke because it only left two options – to laugh along at her profession’s expense, or to take offence and be seen as a humourless bore. She almost always opted for the former, but it rankled. She made half what Rav did by turning ugly houses into slightly less ugly houses, and yet he seemed to have near-infinite time to chat on WhatsApp all day or to pore over online listings for houses they couldn’t afford.

Sitting outside wasn’t going to be an option, so Chloe benched the idea of enjoying herself and did several loads of laundry, washed the floors, sewed buttons back on to shirts and dresses that had been sitting in a pile for weeks or, in some cases, months. She dusted, hoovered, put some clothes in a bag to take to the charity shop, and by six thirty she was feeling practically saintly. A chink of sunlight had broken through the clouds, warming their tiny garden. Delighted with her timing, Chloe poured herself a gin and tonic and sat outside, presenting her face to the sun, feeling it soaking into her skin. Of course, the moment she relaxed, feeling her shoulders drop, Rav came bounding through the door.

‘All right for some!’ He laughed. ‘You’re making the most of the break.’

She could explain that she’d done nine hours of almost unbroken cleaning, but it just didn’t seem worth it. He should notice, but he wouldn’t. Chloe had realized that when you grew up having everything done for you you didn’t question things being perfect. You only noticed if your shirt wasn’t clean or if the sheets hadn’t been changed.

‘Good day?’ she asked instead.

‘Actually, yes. Very good.’

‘Very good?’

‘I’ve been asked to do a trip.’

Chloe sat up straighter. ‘Really? Where to?’