I sat in the driver's seat of my car absolutely fuming.

After I had vowed to get my revenge on everyone in the room, a threat that had largely been brushed off with a smattering of laughter, they had offered me a small monthly stipend as a severance payment.

I had been forced to agree to the terms.

If I’d been rich to begin with maybe I would have been able to turn it away, been able to say no to their offer. But the fact of the matter was I was being kicked out of the company by vote and so it was completely legal.

If I wanted anything at all they would have to give it to me, and this was what they were giving me.

The stipend was larger than I had expected it to be, too.

They agreed to cover the monthly costs of my apartment in the Battersea Power Station complex completely, both the mortgage and the utilities of the place, and then had also agreed to give me £4,000 every calendar month.

This meant that, technically, I’d never have to work again if I didn’t want to as I’