‘I cannot deny that that is rather the implication.’ He removed his arm from around me and leaned back on the living room sofa, adjusting his tartan dressing gown and offering me a wearily sympathetic smile, in the manner of a stoical, but put-upon, Arthur Dent. ‘But you do have to remember that Kerry is going to be every bit as defensive of Ronald as I am of you, Edie,’ he said gently.

‘I know.’ I took a sip from the mug of tea he had made for me and rested my head gratefully on his shoulder. ‘I’ve just never felt quite this hopeless before, Giles. You know how much I love my job. It’s been a daily constant, no matter what other crap was going on in my life. But now everything is a mess and my hands feel tied.’

‘They feel tied because Ruby asked you to keep your conversation with her confidential. But that was not fair, Edie,’ he said with emphasis, ‘and now I feel that you must give serious consideration to advising Alison that you are aware of the accusations made against Ronald. How else do you propose to respond to her request that you work more closely with him?’

I mumbled into my wine glass.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.’

‘I’m going to resign,’ I repeated, at barely increased volume.

He sighed heavily. ‘That is entirely your prerogative. But please allow yourself a week to reflect upon the decision. Do not rush into something which you might come to regret.’

I looked up to discover his expression uncharacteristically troubled and I knew that I was to blame. ‘I’m so sorry to burden you with all this, Giles. Of course, I will give it very careful thought. I’ll wait at least a week before handing in my resignation and I promise not to do anything rash.’

I felt his frame relax and, after a moment’s comfortable silence between us, he said, ‘Why don’t we watch one of your life-enhancing TV shows? Isn’t there’s usually someone baking, being arrested or displaying their poorly genitals to a medic around now?’

I sniffed, laughed and then reached for the remote. ‘There is,’ I said.

‘Perfect.’ He raised his mug, clinking it against mine. ‘Here’s to us switching on and switching off.’

Three hours later I headed upstairs to bed, grateful to the happy combination of Embarrassing Bodies, Cops with Cameras and – most of all – Giles for keeping me distracted from thoughts of the less-than-perfect day just gone, and the unpromising week to come.

Sadly, however, that peace of mind was not to last because the moment I climbed into bed and plugged in my phone to charge, the twin notifications: Text message Jason and Text message Ruby appeared onscreen, delivering an unwanted, last-minute reminder of a day best forgotten.