The flesh is incredible. I’m used to Winifred and the other Helpers, but I’ve never scrutinised them like this. I felt Winifred’s hand and arm, the first time I met her, and looked into her mouth, but Victor is checking this one all over, and shows me the surface of the skin on her thigh. It’s perfect – that is, not quite perfect, like a real human. Totally convincing.

I stand back and look at her face. It’s Michelle Pfeiffer, in her prime.

‘What do you think, John? Cool, right?’

‘You’ve created a perfect replica of a famous Hollywood actress, as she was in her youth.’

‘Yes,’ he says. And nothing else.

‘I saw something like this in Soho last week.’

‘Did you? Cheap Chinese knock-offs, I expect. They’ve been copying our tech all year. Of course, we’d never supply prostitutes.’

‘No? What are these for? Ornament?’

He laughs. ‘No, John, of course not. They’re for sex. And, like all of our synthetics, they’re excellent at their job. Strictly in the home, not on the street. You can choose the model you like best. Man or woman, of course, for men and women, either way. We don’t judge. And if you get tired of her – you’d want a woman, I suppose? Bring her in and we’ll give her a new face, new personality, new body. Whatever you want.’

‘Have you sold many?’

‘A few so far, as a pilot test. Very successful – with the men and the ladies. It does call for a certain… liberal attitude in the home, I should say. And by the way – if you’re not comfortable selling these models, no worries. We’ve got enough to do as it is to keep you busy.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Tell you what. You start with the others – see how you like it. Meanwhile, have a think. Maybe give one of these ladies a try out, when you’re ready. See if it suits you. If you want.’

I don’t know what to say. As induction days at a new job go, this has to be by far the weirdest. I’ve certainly never been offered sex on Day One before, with anyone or anything. I don’t think I’ll be telling Charlotte about this part. And definitely not Mum.

Victor leads the way out, down the row of synthetic women. Not all are celebrities, or perhaps they’re famous people I’ve never seen or heard of. Others I do know – Cameron Diaz, Sophia Loren, Halle Berry, Emily Blunt, Felicity Kendal – which makes me wonder about the Chinese knock-offs Victor claimed I’d seen in Soho – and then he turns to the rank behind, all of whom are Kate Moss, and then behind her I can see an army of Jennifer Lawrences.

Margaret