Lunchtime at work. Spinach, roasted cauliflower and pomegranate salad is on the menu, packed with fresh herbs and scattered with petals. Petals! Previously, the only plant life around here was a beleaguered yucca in reception. These days, the canteen’s offerings look as if they’ve tumbled from a food magazine; it’s one of the more positive aspects of the recent changes. Already, the Platforms for Innovation are being formed, and teams being recruited. The average age seems to have plummeted from around fifty to twenty-five. Everywhere I look there are young people in jeans, skinny T-shirts and little sundresses – even shorts and playsuits. And we have music playing now. It’s definitely more Urban Outfitters than Nerve Centre for Extruded Pellet Snacks.

As I tuck into my lunch, sitting at a favourite corner table with Belinda and Jean, I make a silent vow to forget about my proposal, and to be patient and just wait it out. I did succumb to calling Isla last night, ostensibly for a catch-up, and heard about how Megan, her daughter, had nagged for hair extensions (apparently they look natural these days, merely giving the impression of thicker hair, rather than the blatantly acrylic tresses I once begged my mum for, to no avail). Finally, Isla offered to pay for the things – more than she paid for her first car, apparently – but they turned out to be the wrong kind, and they’ve matted.

I made sympathetic noises, and of course I cared about the matting, but really, I wanted to blurt out, But what about the proposal? D’you think anyone’s read it yet?

Isla then went on to tell me about how she is teaching her son Danny to drive, and that for the whole time he’s at the wheel, sweat is pouring out of her. ‘And honestly, I didn’t think it would be possible. With the nights I’m having, how can there be any left in me to come out?’

Then she had to rush off because Rohan, her youngest, was heading out and needed money. We hadn’t even got around to talking about the proposal.

I finish my lunch and work as diligently as I can all afternoon. It’s when I’m driving home through steady, fine rain that my phone rings, and as soon as I pull up at school, I check the missed call.

Isla! I ring back immediately. ‘Hey, everything okay?’

She clears her throat. ‘D’you have a minute? I mean, is now a good time to talk?’