I’d been drafted in to help recruit some new research staff for Sunderland University.

The panel members compared their notes after the interviews. We agreed that one of the candidates was hopeless. The chairman also noted woefully that it would be a tricky job providing feedback to someone who failed the task in just about every respect.

Then I looked up from my papers. Who was that extra person in the room, nodding in agreement? How embarrassing: it was the hopeless candidate herself! What was worse, she didn’t seem to realise that we were talking about her.

I soon forgot all about this when SM asked me about my “double cheek”. He was one of the few people who knew me well enough to have spotted my tiny facial scar – and I loved him all the more for asking.