The meeting took place at the dining room table of my grandmother’s house in Corbridge. Given that the location was so special to me, I thought that my colleagues could have been more patient when I interrupted the proceedings with childhood reminiscences. What I had to say was more more interesting than the slow instructions relayed in monotone by the woman from HR. When they started to roll their eyes at my anecdotes I turned my attention to the dogs. They weren’t quite Cobber and Pomfret, but they were reasonable stand-ins for Granny’s labrador and poodle.

Later on, back in Bruntsfield, with my boss I peered through the window of the sports shop. “Do you think it’s any good?” she asked me. My answer was based on the academic qualifications of the staff and the customer base. “I think you’d be better off in a shop closer to the university” I replied – though not to her, but to the tiny black-faced Yorkshire terrier that had taken her place.