‘I’m so excited about this!’ Elise cried, long blonde hair and short skirt making her look like a little girl who’d got into her mum’s clothes and make-up. From that effusive greeting to her introductions around the bright, comfortable offices, everything about the Headley Whiterow setup seemed perfect. Even the directors Tim and Aneka, who welcomed her in a conference room of squishy leather chairs and a walnut table, seemed as if they’d be good to work with.

‘Elise speaks highly of you,’ said Tim, taking off his jacket, perhaps to demonstrate that they were already comfortable with her.

‘We trust her to handpick exactly the right person for the role in our highly effective team,’ added Aneka, who wore enormous black-framed glasses as if she were an emoji of someone trying to look clever.

They began on the long, discursive interview process. At 12.30 they crossed the road to a convenient restaurant where they ate salad and drank spritzers. Elise’s hair remained a glossy sheet despite the best efforts of the summer breeze that teased tendrils from Zia’s plait. Elise offered earnestly, ‘The Brighton–Victoria commute’s pretty doable and so’s Brighton–Blackfriars but you could work from home two days most weeks. The role’s varied and with travel, although—’ she pulled an apologetic face ‘—only in Europe. No North America. But it’s exactly the field you’ve been so successful in before and it’s Italian that’s your second language.’

Zia tried to get carried along by their enthusiasm and the sound of familiar terminology. After lunch they crossed back to the office to watch a systems presentation and talk about client portfolio, experience, and future visions. The job was, effectively, what she’d been doing in Brighton but in London, a smaller company, more responsibility and a salary that would not only compensate for commuting costs but allow her to make payments on a new car too. The role was made for Zia.

‘So,’ Elise said. ‘There’s more we could talk about but I already know your commitment and capabilities. What I’d like to do is put together a formal offer and email it to you.’ She must have already got the nod from Tim and Aneka because they all assumed identical anticipatory smiles. ‘What do you think?’

A few months ago, Zia would have asked when she could start. But what came out of her mouth today was: ‘When would you need to know?’

The fixing of Elise’s smile spoke of her surprise. ‘Soon, to be honest. I need someone I trust to coach clients through the deal process.’ She hesitated. ‘Do you have a holiday booked or something?’

‘Not really. But my car’s in Italy and so’s a lot of my stuff.’ She assembled her words carefully, rawly aware that she ought to be grabbing the opportunity. ‘I’m staying with a great-aunt who’s ill at the moment and I’m expected to be there for most of the summer.’