Three hours to get my breath back after a very close encounter with Mr Tall, Dark and Dangerous.

Lucy ran her tongue over her lips to cool them, then shook her head and stuffed her phone and her locker key into the little leather pouch on her belt before presenting herself for inspection.

Pam sighed, adjusted the hat so that a little more of her hair showed. ‘You’ve been a little heavy-handed with the freckles.’ Then, frowning, ‘Is that a bruise?’

‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Someone caught me with a bag,’ she said.

‘The Underground just gets worse… Never mind.’ She took a small camera from her pocket. ‘I’ll just take a picture for your ID. Say cheese…’

‘Cheese.’

‘Great. I’ll log you into the system later. Sort you out a swipe card.’

‘Swipe card?’

‘It’s how we keep track of staff. How we know who is working, how long they’ve worked and that they’ve left the premises at the end of the day. You’ll need it to get out and, hopefully, get in again tomorrow.’

‘Oh, right. Absolutely.’

‘Come on. I’ll take you to meet Frank Alyson, Deputy Manager of the toy department and Chief Elf, and then you can get started.’

She passed her over to a tall lugubrious man wearing a long green tunic. She sort of sympathised with him. It couldn’t be much fun being a middle-aged man with his dignity in shreds, but walking around Santa’s grotto in a suit and tie would undoubtedly compromise the illusion.

‘Louise Braithwaite,’ Pam said, her voice fading to nothing as she introduced her. She cleared her throat, gathered herself. ‘Be nice to this one. Elves don’t grow on trees, you know.’

‘Don’t they? You surprise me. Most of them appear to have sawdust for brains.’ He gave her a look that suggested he had no hopes that she had anything but wood pulp between the ears before turning back to Pam. ‘You look ghastly. Go home. You’ll be no use to anyone if you’re ill.’