I’ve got a row of shiny new slides to inspect down the confocal microscope – various tests of assorted theories, eager to see the light of day. Glass microscope slides are so aesthetically pleasing, before they become sullied by the ravages of high-magnification oil: those perfectly tooled edges, that high polish, the reassuring weight of them – the weight of history, as the design has not changed for hundreds of years, though the technology to inspect them has morphed unrecognizably since the days of Van Leeuwenhoek and his ‘animalcules’. They glint under the lab lights, promising the answer to secrets that no other man or women yet knows.

Just a last sip of coffee and I’m on my way.