Turning my attention to my audience, I invite people to ask any final questions. How many species do you have at the centre (more than fifty, you clearly weren’t listening); can we buy a pet butterfly from the gift shop (no, you cannot); where are the toilets (just before the exit on the left). The group thank me and start to wander away, apart from Anorak Man.

‘What qualifications do you have?’

I get this sometimes, and it’s always men that ask. I step back, determined to keep my cool yet feeling a little wary now it’s just the two of us. I’ve no idea what triggered his odd behaviour before, and I don’t want it to start again. ‘I’m taking Biology and Life Science at A-level and I’ve got a place at the University of Worcester to study Ecology and Environmental Science next year. I make a point to learn about all the species we have here.’

He huffs as if unimpressed then glances at something behind me. I turn and see Tom, or rather his collarbone. Standing over a foot taller than me, he lowers his head and whispers, ‘You look like you need rescuing, Shorty,’ before straightening up and addressing the man. ‘Is there something I can help you with, sir? I work with Ivy at the centre.’

I smile through gritted teeth and introduce him. ‘This is Tom. He has zero interest or qualifications in zoology, but I’m sure he’ll do a much better job of answering your questions as he has a penis.’ I mutter the last part under my breath, but evidently not quietly enough as Tom’s lips begin to quiver. Tom has a very distinctive laugh. It starts with a twitch of his lips and then builds to a full-on giggle that makes his face turn pink and his shoulders shake. It’s the kind of laugh that keeps coming back. You think he’s got it under control, but it starts again a few seconds later. I’ve seen him dive inside a giant fern, tears streaming down his face, trying to contain it. It’s a ludicrous laugh really, but also weirdly compelling. When you’ve seen him giggle like that once, you want to see if he’ll do it again.

I glare at him, remembering why I’m annoyed. What was he thinking, interrupting me like that? I don’t need rescuing, and I certainly don’t appreciate him offering to ‘help’ a customer I’m already dealing with. Thankfully the man doesn’t seem to have heard my remark and looks confused when Tom stifles a giggle. ‘Ivy’s right. She’s far more qualified.’ Barely able to contain his laughter, he strides off to find someplace private where he can explode.

I watch him go, annoyed at myself. Why didn’t I just let Tom answer the man’s questions? Now I’m stuck with him. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, but his broad back is already disappearing off down the walkway.

I blow out a sigh, but my relief doesn’t last long. A hand squeezes my waist, startling me. My boss is right behind me. As always, it’s reassuring to know he values and respects me highly, as he does all his female employees.