The home share period ends today, but all she does is message me asking me to empty the trash and put the key back in the lockbox. I check her Instagram feed for clues. There are some selfies of her clutching a green juice and fake-smiling with a bunch of other similar beauty blogging morons.

The tag reads: Hi everyone, having an amazing time at the awesome Wellness Convention in Portland, with fellow influencers @KandeeGirl2, @MissBubbles23 and @LisaGG89.

‘Influencers’. The word curdles my stomach. It seems that’s what they’re calling Mean Girls these days. I google the convention. It ends this evening, so maybe she’s flying back tomorrow. That’s okay, I can arrange to be here to greet her. No problem.

In the meantime, I’m still enjoying my job in the law firm. I’m punctual, professional and super-efficient and they can’t get enough of me. Patty, the woman who gave me my induction, asked me yesterday if I would consider a temp to perm move. In other words, they want me to stay on indefinitely. I say I’ll think about it, but of course it’s not going to happen.

When she phones me and asks me to step into her office, I’m guessing she wants my answer. I stalk confidently down the hall in my nude Louboutin pumps, teamed with a buff pencil skirt, striped Breton top and a wide scarlet belt. It’s a look I pulled out of the closet last night; one that steers the line between classy and sassy. A couple of the male associates look up as I walk by, which confirms I’m hitting the right note.

Patty isn’t smiling.

‘We seem to have something of a problem.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘I phoned Elite Staffing yesterday to discuss a possible change to your contract – we have to pay a fee if we take on one of their workers permanently – and according to them, you’ve been signed off as unavailable this week. Because you’re out of town, travelling.’

There’s a sharp lurch in my stomach, as though I’m in an elevator and it’s just fallen several floors.

I smile cheerfully. ‘That can’t be right… who did you speak with?’

‘Donna. Apparently she handles all your work.’

I shake my head. ‘No, that’s changed. Donna was unavailable, so Marianne covered. I called her to tell her I’d changed my plans and wanted to work after all, but she must have forgotten to tell Donna. I’m sorry.’

Blaming someone else then apologising for their mistake is the best I can come up with on the spot. Patty seems unconvinced, suspicious even.

‘Well, all right,’ she says reluctantly. ‘I guess I can speak to them again. In the meantime I’d like you to bring your ID in with you tomorrow.’

‘My ID?’ I ask stupidly.

‘Your social security card, and either your passport or driver’s licence.’

‘And you need it tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow, first thing. If that’s okay.’ She smiles, but that suspicious look hasn’t left her eyes.

‘Sure,’ I smile back. ‘No problem at all.’