Marguerite unclipped her ID badge and dropped it on the desk as she strode out of her department. Her white coat flapping, she ignored the farewells of the receptionists and stomped out towards her car. It had been a hard day, and she needed to get home, have a glass of wine and relax. She took it out on the door of her car, slamming it more vigorously than it required, put her foot down and shot out onto the main road. B...

Ok, so the separation is all over bar a few bits of admin. She goes her way, I go mine… Mine that week takes me to a corporate boondoggle at Ascot races. I’m not into horses in any sense, but getting away from the office for two days seems like a good idea. We’re in a hotel a few miles from the track, about thirty of us. The average age, bar the big bosses, is well below my thirty-seven, and most of the women won’t be see...