Winifred moves with unbelievable grace and poise. She’s like a dancer. Her body is perfectly proportioned, and she never makes an awkward movement.

I’m watching her in my room, tidying up for me. A job I could do myself now, but she gets on and does it, quite happily. What a ludicrous notion. But she does exude happiness. The subtleties of her design are remarkable.

‘Winifred, how many Helpers are there now?’

She stops what she’s doing, sits down, and gives me her full attention. I like the way she does that. As a young woman, I always commanded people’s full attention. Men of course, but women too. And then as I got older, it diminished. I learnt how to get it, as a teacher, but out and about, in the world, as time passes you become invisible. Nothing is more easily ignored than an ageing woman. I fought it all the way, but why did I have to?

‘Activated? Over a thousand. Ready for activation? About ten thousand. I can get the latest figure for you.’

‘No, I don’t need it down to the last decimal point. What are they all for?’

She hesitates, and I know she’s connecting to the Hub.

‘Some are Helpers. Others are Workers, and Companions.’

I imagine an army of worker robots taking over all the factories. I imagine Companions wheeling old ladies around parks. And I realise my imagination is living in the past.

‘Workers? To do what kind of work? You told me it was to do things humans don’t want to do. Like Helpers. Looking after us oldies isn’t a popular line of work.’

‘It was being done badly because the economics don’t work. Humans weren’t willing to pay enough money to get the kind of care old people need. We’ve solved the problem, haven’t we? Better care, and less need.’

She’s right, but I’ve never heard her speak in such bald and brutal terms before.

‘The Workers will do manual work?’

‘A lot of it’s already automated. You don’t need anything as sophisticated as a synthetic human to build cars, for instance. Or to drive them. A simple robot will do.’

‘You really don’t like to think of yourself as a robot, do you, dear?’

‘Helpers are robots in the same way that humans are apes, Margaret,’ she says. ‘It’s useful to make the distinction.’

‘The Workers aren’t robots then, in your terms?’

‘They’re as advanced as I am. So are the Companions. Convincing synthetic humans.’

‘You could do with a snappier name. Otherwise you’re going to have to put up with being called robots. Anyway, if the Workers are as brilliant as you, I suppose they can do any job a human can. Better, too, I expect.’