‘I’m putting on tea. Would you like a cup?’

‘No, thank you.’ Mary returned to the relatively safe ground of phone swiping. Jimmy had Googled the opening hours of the local library, she thought, but couldn’t be sure, and had possibly bought the latest John Grisham on Amazon. She put the phone down and moved from virtual devices to visible vices. The same ugly ornaments lined the mantle and bookshelves; the carpet still needed a hoover; the windows and curtains were still closed; the box of tissues beside the armchair was almost empty (and he didn’t have a cold); the sideboard door was open. Nothing suspicious enough, nothing changed enough. Acute risk score this week: low.

Mary relaxed. She’d be out of here in a few minutes. She found herself straightening the wedding picture on the telly and shutting the sideboard door – but something was stuck.

She tried to jam it, and then shuddered when she saw what looked like skin. Mary opened the door and screamed. There was a baby in the sideboard.

She moved a shaky finger towards the child’s arm, which was cold, and weird. And rubber. Mary screamed again, this time with relief. Jimmy’s worst case scenario was not happening here today. This was a rubber doll, not a human.

‘Jim!’

Cuppa in one hand, the other on his Zimmer frame, Jimmy stopped short in the hall.

‘You have an anatomically correct female infant sex doll?’ Mary was holding it by the hair. There was no good way to hold it. She put it on the armchair and found herself pulling its antique lace christening dress down over the legs.

‘Not a doll; a robot.’ Jimmy didn’t seem overly concerned that his sex toy had been discovered, or at least he made a good effort not to seem so. He pressed the baby’s back and an arm moved up then down again. ‘See!’ He pressed again, and a little tear dropped from the robot’s (not doll’s) eye.

It was 9.45 a.m. Mary had a MAPPA at 10.00; no time to do all the things she’d now needed to do as a result of – ‘Her name’s Emily,’ Jimmy said – as a result of Emily. First, she’d have to listen to and note Jimmy’s highly logical explanation, and later record it on council and police databases – both of which required passwords and codes and secret keys and fobs and time – a lot of time – that she would not have this afternoon. Her diary, as usual, was angry-full.

Mary took notes as Jimmy explained his right to be with Emily:

–– Thanks to Mary, Jimmy wasn’t allowed to have contact with any real children, not even his grandchildren, who he loved, and who loved him.

–– He wasn’t allowed to have a girlfriend either. (That wasn’t true. Jimmy just didn’t want an adult one.)