‘Could you please close the door behind you, Edith? And then take a seat,’ she said, gesturing to the chair opposite Cameron.

I turned and pushed the door shut, taking the opportunity to close my eyes momentarily and catch a calming breath: in through the nose, out through the mouth. I was feeling much more energised and empowered than I had when heading off for my coffee with Ruby, but I was still far from my usual level of confidence and calm.

‘Good weekend?’ asked Alison, as I settled myself into my chair. She folded her hands on the table in front of her, her expression as tense as ever.

‘I managed a few rain-walks,’ I replied, offering her a smile only marginally less strained than her own, ‘with Anthony, our dog.’

‘How lovely,’ she said. ‘Cameron went walking in The Mendips.’

‘Did he?’ I looked across the table at him and rested a finger against my lips in order to suppress a sneer. He glanced at me and, just for a moment, the mask slipped and I saw in his eyes a resentment – an acknowledgement of what had happened between us. A second later it was gone and he relaxed back into his chair.

‘I was going over a few things at the weekend and I would like you to work more collaboratively,’ said Alison.

The swift change of subject and tone – from polite personal chit-chat, in which she had zero interest, to the business of the day – was typical Alison, but I still felt thrown.

‘More collaboratively?’ I queried.

‘Yes.’

‘Me?’

‘You and Cameron. Both of you. With each other.’

She glanced over my shoulder and I turned to see Roger watching us from his desk. He looked down sharply as I caught his eye and when I turned back to Alison, her lips were pressed together in a thin, red, horizontal line.

‘I do not mean an official collaboration,’ she continued. ‘But as a team we work best when we share and sound out our ideas. I think that was something which occurred naturally between yourself and Ruby, Edith. And I believe it’s working between you and Roger, Cameron, but it needs to be across-team.’

I looked at her, wondering what had prompted this start-of-the-week, highly uncharacteristic lecture on teamwork. Had Cameron perhaps sidled into her office before nine a.m. and expressed his disappointment at my refusal to take him up on his selfless Friday-night offer to share? Or maybe he had called her over the weekend. Maybe their relationship was as close as Ruby had suspected.

‘Of course,’ said Cameron. ‘That makes sense.’

He really was something else. But two could play the I’m-not-the-problem-here game.