‘Did you, er…’ he leaned low across his desk towards me and glanced left and right, checking for eavesdroppers in the completely deserted office. ‘Did you get in touch with… you know… with her?’ He offered me a slow wink.

‘You mean Ruby?’

‘No, Mary Berry,’ he tutted, sitting up. ‘Of course I mean Ruby. I’d have been straight on the phone to her Thursday afternoon, if I was you.’

‘Would you?’ I asked, surprised.

He laughed. ‘No way! Who in their right mind prods a snake? And there’s more than a hint of snakiness about our Rubes. I’d stand well back, Edie.’

I slid my laptop from my bag and placed it on the desk in front of me. ‘Don’t worry. Now that I’m in possession of the actual facts, I’m not in a hurry to see her,’ I said, keeping my voice determinedly calm, whilst searching my bag for my phone. ‘There’s no excuse for what she did and I don’t particularly want to watch her trying to come up with one.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, you know I’d come with you. You only have to ask.’

I looked up to find him completely in earnest.

‘Thanks for the offer,’ I said. ‘I’m genuinely touched.’

He sipped his coffee. ‘Obviously, I was only offering because I know there’s no chance of you recording the conversation for me.’

‘Obviously,’ I said, recommencing the phone search. ‘This bag,’ I muttered, ‘has more pockets than a snooker table. Ah, here it is!’ I continued triumphantly, holding up the phone before opening a text from Giles asking if I’d put any of his burgundy, monogrammed socks in my sock drawer by mistake, as he was unable to locate a pair. I glanced down guiltily at my blue boots, inside which my feet were currently encased in a pair of burgundy, monogrammed socks, and I wondered whether I should break it to Giles that I didn’t actually have a sock drawer, but had simply co-opted his, his socks being so irresistibly silky-smooth – not to mention, clean, paired and always good-to-go.

‘Morning, Cam,’ said Luke.

I looked up sharply from my feet.

‘Hi,’ said Cameron, raising a hand to Luke and placing his bag on his desk. ‘Edie,’ he added, nodding civilly but stony-faced in my direction.

‘Hel-hello,’ I said, attempting bright and achieving strangulated. I cleared my throat and then smiled as broadly as possible by way of compensation.

He looked at me in the same way Anthony had looked at the bowl of supermarket own-brand dog food which Giles had begged from a neighbour at ten o’clock on Sunday evening, having realised that he’d run out of Anthony’s usual high-end variety.

I suppressed a sigh. Clearly a miracle transformation in Cameron’s opinion of me hadn’t occurred over the weekend after all. What a shocker.