‘Great! Yes, we can fix something up no problem. Fancy a coffee now, or are you rushing straight off to work?’

‘Back to work, unfortunately,’ I reply, ‘but let’s get together soon.’ At the school gates now, I turn to Izzy. ‘Remember it’s after-school club today, won’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ She grins. Maeve goes too; they have toast and honey and are apparently embarking on a mural-painting project in the playground. ‘Is my gym kit in my bag?’ she asks.

‘Yes, love.’

‘What kind of sandwiches did you give me?’

‘Cheese and pickle.’

‘What else is there?’

‘Tangerine, cereal bar, packet of Crunchy-Bites …’

‘Did you pack Woolly?’ That’s the joke sandwich my friend Penny knitted for Izzy’s last birthday, which amused her so much that she likes to bring it to school every day. Every so often I have to wrestle it off her for a gentle hand-wash.

‘Of course I did.’ I bob down to kiss her as the bell sounds. ‘Have a good day, sweetheart—’

‘Mum, I’ll be late!’ She pulls away, inadequately brushed hair flying behind her as she and Maeve charge towards the door.

And so to work, on an unlovely industrial estate to the west of Glasgow, where I find my office phone already ringing. It’s my boss calling in a state of distress.

‘What on earth made you book this place, Viv?’

Rose is phoning from China. This is why she is shouting. Despite her undeniable intellect, she seems to believe that the further she is from our headquarters, the louder she has to be. Never mind that she could easily have messaged me. Rose prefers to communicate verbally and – with the seven-hour time difference firmly established in her mind – had obviously been poised to call me the minute I’d sat down at my desk.

‘It looked fine on the website,’ I say. ‘I checked out loads of options and thought it seemed like the best …’

‘You said it was as good as the Larson!’

‘Yes, but the Larson was full. Remember I told you?’ And I showed you pictures of this place, of the glass-walled lounge and rooftop infinity pool, which you barely looked at. We have clients all over the world and, with China being a particularly big market for us, Rose has been to Tianjin on business several times.

‘Yes, well, they’re in the throes of building works here,’ she explains, as if I should have known this, ‘and I’ve been shovelled off into this god-awful annexe.’

‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Is it comfortable, though?’

‘Not exactly. There’s a problem.’

I clear my throat. ‘What is it?’

‘There’s …’ her voice tightens ‘… a pubic hair on the toilet seat.’

For a moment, I don’t quite know how to respond.

‘Can you hear me, Viv?’