FOR the past year I’ve had the luxury of flexible working – working from home three days a week. I’ve relished the many opportunities of interrupting the working day to prepare dinner, take the dog out, break up the boredom of a sandwich lunch with reheated leftovers and meet friends in town for coffee.

I’ve been free to cheer from the touchline at school football matches, watch nailbiting finishes at the sports day winners tape and worship at school assemblies. All this compensated for by working into the small hours accompanied by late night radio, my son safely tucked up in bed, the cat and dog snoozing in evening harmony on the sofa; enjoying the interruptions by day while savouring the lack of them at night.

New technology means that this way of working is now available to an increasing number of us. Teleconferencing, Skyping, sharing and editing files using Dropbox on the cloud. I can even dial into my office computer while travelling on the train and print stuff out ready for when I arrive in the office. Unthinkable just a few years ago.

There are other benefits: employers report that remote working leads to greater productivity and employee efficiency, that it lowers stress and improves employee morale, reduces staff turnover and cost, positively impacts on the environment and is increasingly favoured by younger workers while allowing those living with disability greater access to employment.

But it’s not completely a one way street. Tricia was talking to me about giving up her job and working from home as a consultant. “I’ve done it before,” she confided. “Trouble is, I get lonely. I miss the buzz of chatting to colleagues, shaping ideas and solving problems by talking them through and breaking up the day with meaningless chit chat.”

I knew what she meant. On Friday, with a clear day in front of me, I dropped my son off at school and made a spur of the moment decision to hop on a train and work from the office. I spent the rest of the unusually quiet morning alone at my desk thinking it was the wrong choice when suddenly my colleague Kate burst in. “We’ve just been awarded £100,000,” she screamed excitedly. I heard her disappearing along the corridor waking everyone from their Friday afternoon reverie.

Fundraising successes like that are rare and rightly the cause of much celebration. I nipped out to buy the team a bottle of something sparkling with which to celebrate, and after a reusable plastic cup or two, we agreed a team curry would be a fitting end to the afternoon.

A little the worse for wear, I mused on the train home… sometimes, there is no substitute for actually being there.