SR came out of retirement solely to summon JB and me to a meeting. He passed on a message that our colleagues thought that we were slackers. It was high time that the pair of us made a serious effort to take on our share of the school’s workload. I disagreed with this assessment, yet was keen to do whatever was necessary to prove it wrong. It appeared that the best way to achieve this was for me to add yet another set of commitments to my calendar. I would join the team that delivered university-wide CPD courses.

The very next day I was expected to lead a training event. I accepted SR’s offer to pick me up and drive me to the venue. I turned up at the collection point as arranged, but he only took me as far as the fish shop. When he refused to drive the car any further I pointed out that this was hardly a help at all: we were barely a ten minute walk from my house. A further problem was that SR didn’t actually know the exact location of venue, other than it was at the University of Edinburgh. I suggested that perhaps it was the Pleasance or Inspace? SR had no idea.

In a desperate attempt to identify the venue I switched on my iPhone to scroll through my e-mails. Those naughty rascals CJ and his sister SJ had upgraded the operating system to iOS7 since I’d last used my phone. The new interface made everything so difficult, but I soldiered on.

Then, when I finally struck the relevant material, I was appalled. Admittedly all my courses were advertised alongside a very beautiful headshot photograph of me. However, if you looked closely at the shot, you could tell that it was taken in the bathroom. On the day that the marketing assistant photographer had shot these pictures she had promised me and RA that they would never be distributed. She had betrayed our trust completely.