Chapter 4

She was nearly falling asleep, her hands slipping from her mouse and her head nearly falling onto the keyboard. Everyone had felt that way for the past couple of days, with enforcements from John Smith to work overtime. She glanced at the clock overhead, just about glimpsing the time. Roughly an hour later than she was used to working. A lot of people were still grumbling, moaning about extra hours. To be fair, she didn't want for lose her job nor move to the Manchester branch, so she did what she had to, even if she knew this was her own partial doing. They would all have to work this hard for a long time. She felt just a little bit sorry for him, having to juggle so much work with clearly another problem on his mind. For one thing, their common problem of repaying debts had surprised her; she had thought John too organised to get himself wound up in debt. Maybe they were more similar than they thought but she knew John could still be a pain in the ass. Talking about getting on her nerves, he managed to appear just at that second, carrying a clipboard and assessing everyone's progress, going round every desk and every table until he finally got to her.

'Looking a bit slow, Clara.' He said, whether to tease her or not she didn't know. 'You can stay to finish this task before you go home, but tomorrow you will have to meet your target or more hours will be put on top of your shift. Got that?'

She nodded dryly, not even having the energy to fight back. That was the thing with him. As soon as she started thinking of him in a positive light he had to come along and dampen it with his negativity.

She glimpsed Jack, talking animatedly on the phone to his boyfriend, which she was very surprised he got away with. Clara decided she needed a little bit of fun before the end of the day so she could leave in good spirits.

She nudged him tentatively. His eyes followed her, mouthing 'what?'

'Let's go wind him up.' She whispered, her eyes lighting up. The corner of Jack's lip curled up mischievously.

'Well, it is pretty damn boring right now. I could use a laugh.'

Clara grinned in exultance, and Jack hung up the phone with 'I'm now about to annoy my boss. I'll see you later, Ianto,' before they both huddled near each other to brainstorm ideas. Clara had forgotten all about feeling sorry for him and brimming with the possibility of making him mad. He deserved it, for being a miserable, grumpy fucker.

Finally they came up with a plan, one that she was sure would make him furious. It was perfect, a joke she had used to play on her neighbours when she was younger. Jack agreed enthusiastically, and with his phone he dialled the number of a local pizzeria. Clara wrote everything down as he talked, and she was laughing so much she thought she would instantly give the game away.

'Hello,' Jack spoke into the phone, taking on a Scottish accent that instantly folded Clara into irrepressible giggles, 'I would like to order-' he glanced over at Clara's handwritten note, 'two dozen pizzas.' Jack couldn't help but snigger.

'Yes? Oh, it's for a party. What toppings would we like...'

Clara scribbled down on the paper, and his eyes followed as he spoke, consequently trilling off each topping, a huge grin in place.

'Yes, that's four ham and pineapple, seven meat feast, ten margarita and three vegetable.'

There was a pause as the person on the other side of the phone comprehended the order.

'Name?' She heard the phone say.

'John Smith.' Jack said, his Scottish accent actually quite impressive. Clara wrote down the address of the company and Jack soon after hung up the phone.

'They're going to be here in half an hour.' He told her, immediately bursting into laughter, as Clara did simultaneously. Rose and Donna had then noticed, and Clara explained to them as precisely as she could, her giggles throwing off each word.

'We're, we're-ordering p-we're ordering pizza's under John's name.'

Rose exclaimed in joy, giving Clara a high five.

'How many?' Donna asked incredulously.

'24.'

'Jesus!' She said, 'he's going to be so angry.'

They all looked round to where he was standing over Mickey, shouting at him for something. Mickey looked almost frightened.

Clara felt successful and determined to make him look like a fool.

Thereafter the minutes passed by, as they waited for the pizzas to arrive. Clara caught John's eye as he crossed toward his office, and he gave her a look of confusion at the knowingly malicious glint in her eyes. It wasn't long until there was a huge cart of pizza's rolling through the corridor, and a guy reading off a list for the person who had ordered them. Everyone turned to John's office. River was the first to move; she opened the door and told John his delivery was here.

'I didn't order anything.' He claimed, and Clara tried to keep a straight face as he emerged from the office and stared at the pizzas with shock.

'What the fuck?' He said. No one dared say anything.

'These pizzas were ordered for John Smith at this address.' The guy said. John just kept staring, until he erupted.

'I didn't order shit!' He accused, his eyes sweeping the whole room.

'Well, sir, is your name John Smith?' The guy deadpanned.

'Well, I- yes, but-' he spluttered.

'Then you are responsible for these pizzas, as you ordered them.'

Clara looked on satisfactorily, and turned to Jack with a hidden smile.

'I didn't fucking order any damn pizzas!' He exclaiemd, and everyone started to giggle just a little at him. 'Who ordered these pizzas?' He roared, his eyes blazing into each face for a possible culprit.

'It certainly sounds like you did over the phone, your accent is identical.'

'Listen, I didn't make any phone call of delivery for...' He quickly counted the number of pizza boxes, '24 fucking pizzas!' He sounded emphatically hysterical.

Clara was sure everyone was counting each curse word by then, and also looking just a bit wary now his tone had turned violently bitter.

'I'm sorry sir, but you have to pay for these pizzas now.'

'I'm not paying for something I didn't order!'

'Nonetheless, there was a phone call made approximately thirty minutes ago asking for twenty four pizzas to be delivered to this address. Regardless if you were the one to make the call, we sorted them out and have delivered them.'

John was looking dangerous now, his stare like knives cutting into everybody he set eyes upon.

'Fine, fucking fine. Someone has just wasted my fucking money!'

He furiously took out his wallet and handed them all he had, spare for a ten pound note.

'Keep the sodding change.' He spat, dismissing the guy and watching him hurry to the elevator.

'These will be confiscated, no one is to go near them AT ALL. I've just had to pay out of my own money, so these will be kept with me.'

'Why not pay out of the company's money?' Someone asked audaciously.

'Have you seen our fucking finance situation? We can't even afford to buy a packet of peanuts, understand?'

Everyone nodded their heads and he ranted off under his breath quite explicitly while he wheeled all the pizzas into his office. After the door had been shut behind him raucous laughter overcame the whole room and shouts of 'who did it?' And 'why didn't anyone pay so we could eat the pizzas' rang out and Clara smirked in pride. Jack could hardly contain himself as he replayed parts of John's dialogue with comical clarity and all the computers synchronously went to sleep. However she could only bask in her success for a few moments, as John re-emerged and his flaming eyes fixed on her. He motioned for her to step inside his office, and she looked back at her table, all mockingly raising their eyebrows at her.

As soon as she entered and the door had been closed behind her she suppressed the urge to laugh again at the amount of pizzas standing against his back wall.

'How fucking dare you do this.' He said, his breathing becoming heavy.

'What?! How can you blame me without evidence-,'

'I know it was fucking you alright?' He yelled, 'I'm not bloody blind and I'm certainly not stupid. Why the hell did you think it was acceptable to do this, waste not only everyone's time, but my own money. You're a fucking adult for God's sake, not a little child! I have never worked in a place where the people were so goddamn childish with idiotic pranks and silliness. This stops immediately.'

'That's funny, I swear last time you said that if I did it again you'd fire me. You're going back on your words. I guess it's true that threats don't work unless you deliver.'

'No, I'm not going to fire you, because your place in this company, believe it or not, is valued, which is fucking terrible news for me. Instead, I'm making you pay me back for all the pizzas, including ten pound compensation for your fucking impertinence!'

'I don't have the money.' She said plainly.

'I hardly do, either! You have no idea, no fucking idea how this has impacted me. You told me you were in debts yourself, which is what bloody confuses me. You know full well you can't waste money like this when you're in debt!'

Clara hadn't thought of that. Her head lowered just a fraction.

'Twenty pound extra,' he added, 'for all the excruciatingly annoying things you've done to me. All I'm trying to do is make this company run as smoothly as possible without any faults or unfortunate disadvantages. I'm just trying to make this better, and what does a fucking idiot like you do? Fuck it up!' He finished, his eyebrows knitting so tight she thought they would join into one.

He took a rather raggedly disturbing breath. Clara looked up in alarm. There was a significantly tense pause that allowed John's breathing to return to normal, then dissipate. He dismissed it and carried on.

'I want a full payment by tomorrow, no excuses.'

'And if not? You said yourself, you can't fire me.'

'No, but I can make it as hellish as I possibly can. Now, get out.'

Clara studied him carefully. 'You don't want an apology?'

'No I fucking do not, now leave!'

She turned away, carrying off a laugh but inside feeling just a little disappointed with herself. She wasn't doing it for attention, nor pride, and she wasn't even sure it was just to annoy him either anymore, but it was something she couldn't name. It frustrated her greatly.

When she peered into his office the next day the pizzas were magically gone from his wall. She only noticed the wary eye he had on her, watching her carefully as she obediently set to work. Clara had to admit to herself that what she had done last night was a little degrading, even if it had been hilarious at the time. Ultimately, she decided that she had had her fun now, and to enact any other devilish schemes would be far too dangerous. Clara had already paid him for last night, yet not without a rambling lecture, and she was positive she didn't want to go through that experience again. By the end of the day she was bored out of her mind, and she logged off gratefully, meeting John's eyes briefly as she brushed past him to collect her coat. When she did, however, she felt him turn round to look at her, his eyes boring into her back like he was watching her every move. He carried on talking to other people, and then with an exasperated sigh retreated back to his office. Looking round the drab room, with its people shuffling along like zombies and the boring colours of the walls making it seem like a prison cell, she made a decision. She'd be damned if she was going to stay at this dump. The work was alright pay but not worth what she was doing.

Heading straight into John's room she could see the visible strain on his face when he looked up to see it was her. She grimaced at him, realising once again just how awful he was. He didn't have any respect for anyone. She knew it was hard for him to possibly find the respect to treat her normally after what she'd put him through but the look on his face still disgusted her. Which drove her harshly to the point.

'I'm leaving.' She announced. He didn't react or look up at her.

'Yes, I told you you could go.'

'No. I'm leaving. Leaving this place, resigning.'

This time he did look up, his eyebrows raised on his head, producing creases in his forehead and his eyes a mocking shade of blue.

'And why on earth are you doing that?'

'Do you really have to question why?'

'Well, here's news for you: I want to leave too, I'd bloody love to leave, but I can't. Because I've got things that need paying for.'

'I decided I don't care.'

'What are you gonna do instead, then?'

'What business of it is yours?'

He raised an eyebrow.

'I don't know yet. Probably become a teacher.'

'Teaching?!' He snorted, 'the teacher ambition returns!' He shook his head disdainfully, 'let me give you some advice: this job pays nearly double than a normal teacher salary.'

'How would you know?'

'Clara, I've been in plenty of businesses, plenty of industries.'

'Why don't you start acting like it?'

'Like what?'

'Someone that's worked with different people all their lives. Seems to me you can't bear to confront anyone here.'

'I've never had a team so astonishingly uncooperative.' He said sharply, turning to his computer and pretending to type.

'Well, I'd rather suffer the loss of money then work in this dump a day longer with you here. I'll hand in a notice one of these days or other.' She said carelessly, turning away to walk out. But a hand grabbed her arm and spun her back around. John's hard gaze was burning into her soul once more, shocking her again with the intensity of his stare. All thoughts of rebellion and tough talk slipped out of her mind and she seemed to melt under his touch.

'Let go of me.' She managed, firmly enough.

He did as he was told, releasing his grip on her. 'Don't leave. Believe it or not, despite your stupid sense of humour and annoying questions you are one of the best on the team and don't make me repeat that.' He rambled.

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest with satisfaction. 'What did you say?'

'I told you, I'm not repeating it again.' His eyes flicked down to her and then away again.

'And that's the only reason you want me to stay?'

'Yes.'

'Yeah well, I'd rather try my luck with some teenage kids than be stuck here with you.'

She attempted to turn away but he caught her arm again. This time she was amused and had a teasing glint in her eye.

'No, no, look. Okay, I'll raise your salary.'

'And why the hell would you do that?'

'Because this company needs you. This company needs all of you. I am a man of business, I can't bear being in charge of a company underperforming and capsizing from the weight of responsibility. I take over companies and make them better, but I can only do that if everyone's in. I promise to you now I could turn this company around but I just need effort. Even though you're exceptionally lax when it comes to spreadsheets, and your attitude is frankly demoralising, your service is excellent. Really, it's better than anyone's on your team.'

'But John, you're not seeing this for how it really is, what do I care about this company? It's just a job. Money that manages to get me through each day and month. I frankly don't give a shit if the company is underperforming. Why shouldn't I leave?

'Yes, but I do. I care, and I need you here. If you're gonna do it for anyone, do it for me.'

Her eyes went wide. 'Have you been drinking?'

'No.' He shook his head, Clara only just noticing how erratic he looked. His hair wild, his tie crooked, his jacket askew.

'Why are you suddenly desperate for me to stay after what I did last night? You hate me, I hate you. I'm basically helping you get rid of me.'

'Because you're the only person who actually understands, and as I said yesterday, you are valuable to this company. You're fucking childish and infuriating and yet you are the brightest one here. And you'll be surprised to know that I don't hate you.' He said, his voice incredibly small.

She reflected on his comment, acknowledging for the first time that she didn't hate him either, not really. He was a bit of a prick, there was no denying but there wasn't actually any emotion of hatred inside her, which she found shocking.

'You change your tune so fast I can't even keep up with you anymore.'

'At least you paid me back. And I think that you're not as insolent as you seem inside.'

Clara was amazed. Was this really John Smith talking to her? He was calm, gentle, and not shouting at her. It seemed extremely unnatural.

'Yeah well, you're freaking me out now so-'

'Wait.' He said, pointing a finger at her, 'wait, you're bloody joking with me here again. You can't bloody leave this job and go through teaching because you have all those debts you told me about. You need this job, you need the money.'

'I already have all the qualifications and I'll struggle by myself, thanks. At least I'd be doing something I love.'

He moved an inch closer. 'You told me on my very first day here that you wanted to be an English teacher.'

'Yes, that's, that's right, I did.'

'But just stay a few months more. By then I'll have the company in control and you can swan off to teach snotty kids their abc's.'

'How long?'

'Six months.'

'Extended pay?'

He sighed heavily.

'You were the one that offered.'

'Okay. 500.'

'700 and I'll do my work like a good girl.'

He squinted at her. 'Fine.' He agreed.

She smiled triumphantly. 'That's a deal.' She held out her hand for him to shake. Defeated, he did but not without a smirk of the same victory. The spark she felt when he had first arrived, that had drawn her to him so, flared up inside her chest again. She was looking at him as if it was the first day again, studying his features with interest.

'Don't think this changes anything. You're still a boring business guy with no dreams or aspirations.'

'Oi, that seems a little unfair. I wanted to be a doctor when I was younger.'

'Seriously?'

'Yep. In fact, I got my doctorate but didn't bother going anywhere with it in the end. Ended up as a manager of a corporate business by the age of 25 and it completely turned my life around. I mean, being a manager of a company at 25 was quite impressive for me.'

All hatred and impressions of him vanished in an instant and instead she was looking at a man doing the best he could, a human being just as flawed as she was. It was oddly comforting.

'So you're Doctor Smith?' She giggled.

'Yes, but don't tell anyone else.' He winked, 'as for being no fun, I think that's a little judgemental. Why don't I show you how fun I can be?' Clara tried to hide her astonishment.

'Oh god.'

'Look,' he said, leading her out of his room and into the central office. He slumped down instantly on one of the swivel chairs, spinning all around her. Clara felt bewildered at his sudden childish demeanour, laughing at him whizzing round the room. It was one of the bizarrest sights she'd beheld, a man with those eyebrows playing on chairs like a kid who had had too much sherbet.

'You're a fucking hypocrite! Childishness indeed!' Clara told him.

'Yes, well I don't act like this during the workday. I'm serious about the work and that's how you should be.'

She sniggered, watching him whizz round the office. She found it insanely strange that only a few minutes ago she hated him passionately but was now laughing with him.

'But I admittedly did used to do this all the time when no one was looking.' He said. As he spun past he gestured for her to join him and, unable to refuse she sank into an identical chair and spun round and round until she felt dizzy. When her eyes refocused she saw John sitting next to her and chuckling at her disoriented state. He pushed away from her and lined himself up against the door of his office and beckoned her over.

'I always used to organise the chair races for Red Nose Day.' He said.

'As long as you play fair.'

'Of course. Now, to the very back of the room, 3,2,1 GO!'

They both raced against each other with John shouting competitively while Clara marvelled at the man she had been having an argument with only moments ago that now was having swivel chair races with her. As it was he only just managed to get to the end of the room before her, and in her defence claimed it was because of his long legs.

'If you don't think that was fair, let's have a re-match then.' He said, mocking severity.

'Fine. 3,2,1...go.'

She pushed off as fast as she could, so focused on getting to the end she was colliding into desks and knocking papers off tables, but neither of them cared. Just as she was nearing he wall her chair bumped into John's and both of them nearly fell off them. Laughing profusely she finished off the race, still giggling at their collision. They couldn't help having another race, and another race, and Clara finally came to her conclusions that he wasn't actually too bad as a person. As a boss he wasn't all that warm, in fact he was stone cold, but now she was really enjoying his company. It was strange just how fast he had changed moods, but she was actually quite glad he had persuaded her to stay. She knew she would only have gone home in regret at being stupid enough to quit her job when she knew there wasn't really any chance of getting another.

After they were red in the face and breathless from racing John stood up, walked into his office and came back with a stack of paper. He sat down to make a paper aeroplane and whirl it through the air. It landed in between someone's keyboard and Clara turned to him in awe.

'You're not so different to the team than I thought. Why are you such a strict boss?'

'Not strict. Just very ambitious. I like to get on with my work without disturbance, and I like the team to be focused too. That's all. And then when I heard of the merger,' he sighed, 'it was all I could do not to enforce a few rules around here. Do you understand?'

She nodded. 'But why not just treat us all a little bit better? Don't shout, don't horrifically swear at people. Be a better person and people will like you.'

'Because I am put under stress and it creates a lot of problems personally for me when people get under my skin. I haven't felt that angry than I did at the pizza incident for a long time.'

A moments silence held until Clara was missing the excitable mood he had been in only seconds prior.

'Show me how to do them.' She prompted.

'You don't know how to do paper aeroplanes?' He asked incredulously.

'Unfortunately not.'

He showed her step by step how to make the planes, his hands sometimes taking over when she got confused by it. His fingers brushed hers and for a moment she didn't dare breathe until he had finished. When she had finally gotten the grasp of it there were paper aeroplanes flying around everywhere, equipment and walls littered with them, as the both of them tested one after the other how far and high they could go. One of John's even collided into the clock, dropping to the floor, but not before Clara had glimpsed the time and her brain suddenly went I to panic.

'Shit! It's nearly 8! I was supposed to be home an hour ago!'

'Really, why? Didn't you text your boyfriend or something?'

'No, no, I don't have a boyfriend. I promised Amy I'd be at her baby shower and it's only in half an hour and I still need to get home.' She gathered up her things in a hurrying , leaving John there flustered. He hurried after her, joining her at the lift, but she soon gave up waiting and raced down the stairs. When she ran to her motorcycle he raised his eyebrows again. She just kept on surprising him. Putting on her helmet and swinging her legs over it she started it up but the bike did nothing. In frustration, she tried it again, harder, and then again, until she cursed violently again and hopped off it.

'I'm out of gas. Fuck sake.' She breathed. He could sense her tenseness, her irritation, and it probably scared him more than himself. He had no doubt she could breathe fire I'm that moment. She stared at the vehicle like it might start working again and John suddenly thought of a good deed he could add to his list.

'I can drive you, if you want.' He offered, watching Clara's eyes turn on him.

'You would?' Clara felt like she had been hit by some miracle, or was in some very sarcastically distorted dream. This was another person altogether from the commandeering boss who hated everyone.

'Yeah, my car's just there,' he pointed to a back car parked across from the bike, the only one left.

'I can take you home, then take you to Amy's and while you're there I can come back here, pick up your motorbike somehow and park it outside her house for you when you come back.'

She stared up at him for a moment, until John started to feel just slightly uncomfortable.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, I've got nothing else to do tonight.'

'Oh, you're a lifesaver John, thank you.' She said, and for a second he thought she was going to hug him, or even kiss him on the cheek, yet thankfully she didn't and walked straight past him towards his car.

As she strapped herself in and he turned the keys into the ignition he found her staring up at him again. He wished she would stop doing that, and didn't.

'Are you sure it's okay doing all of this? Don't want to disturb you.'

It was unnerving how suddenly polite she had become.

'No, trust me, it's fine. My nights usually consist of lying in front of the telly until I fall asleep. It doesn't help that Missy gives me an earache every night with her rambling too.'

'Do you live with her?'

'Yes and she's bananas, that woman. My sister,' he clarified, 'always has been barking up the wrong tree ever since she was born.

'Haven't you ever lived alone, or...'

He made a noise of reminiscence, some sort of happy memory because he was almost smiling. 'Once.'

She decided not to press him further about it but instead analysed her very bizarre situation. She was being driven home by her boss, the same one she had almost left along with her job over an hour ago. It seemed time really could change people.

'I did prove it though, didn't I?'

'Prove what?'

'That I can be fun sometimes. When I'm not working and there's better company around than Missy.'

'Yeah, I guess you did. That's not gonna help winning everyone else's approval though.'

'Well, you can't please everybody. And you've no idea how difficult managing can be sometimes.'

'Oh, I can. Missy must go to bed in pain every night managing you.'

'Funny.' He replied sarcastically, which seemed to make her laugh.

'It's just on the left.' She pointed, directing him toward a block of flats he was unfamiliar with.

Clara unbuckled herself to get out of the car but John, not quite knowing what to do, just sat there. She rounded the car, gesturing for him to follow her.

'You might as well come up.'

When they reached her flat John felt uncomfortable but also admirable of the mess and the shelves all stacked with photo frames and ornaments.

'You can just sit there. I won't be a minute.'

He gingerly sat down and waited patiently enough, trying to connect the dots of the last few hours. She had wanted to leave, to resign, but he'd stopped her. And then he had introduced her to a side of him he rarely showed anyone else, much less his colleagues. And now somehow he'd ended up here, in her very flat. He could hardly believe he was sitting there, especially after the pizza ordeal last night. He had thought she was the worlds worst colleague, and maybe she was, but something about her was too fascinating not to persuade. From the moment she started aggravating him with her jokes, she gave off an impression so impactful it was hard not to become effected by it. He feared he'd been affected too much.

After a few minutes she emerged, thankfully saving him from his thoughts. Her hair was pinned up and she wore a plaid dress, simple but radiant. He stood immediately as she came toward him, unable to speak for a moment but unable to look away. Awkwardly, he looked down at the floor instead, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

'You look wonderful.' He said, watching Clara's eyebrows raise.

'Really? I've worn this many times. Right, I've got just enough time I think. Thanks for waiting.'

'Uh, it's no problem.'

He hardly ever stuttered.

He took one last sweeping look at her living room, breathing in the scent of what was probably a mixture of wine and perfume. Classy, he thought, as he exited the room.

Once back in the car another thought arose as he drove down the motorway. Clara must be hungry. After all, she'd spent her whole evening in the office with him and hadn't had any tea. The same applied for him, although he was sure Missy had thrown his dinner out by now as he hadn't come home. Which meant only one thing.

'Clara, why don't we just quickly grab some food? Neither of us have eaten, and I'm sure it won't delay the journey more than a few minutes. You should eat.'

'There'll be food round Amy's house, I'm sure.'

'There's a McDonald's just up here, we could go drive through.'

'I don't have any money, John.'

'I'll pay.' He said, hearing her sigh.

'John, you've done enough for me today, I'm fine, really. And I embarrassed you terribly with the pizzas.'

Nevertheless he rounded the corner into a McDonald's and pulled up at the drive through window.

'I'll just have chips then.' She told him, yet he knew that she was only being polite. Instead he ordered both of them a burger, drink, and fries, much to Clara's exasperation.

'I'll pay you back.'

'Don't worry about it.' He said, smiling at how relieved she looked eating her burger. 'We both needed it.'

By the time they reached Amy's the sky was turning black but they were only a few minutes late. Clara had quickly disposed of her food and thanked him generously for it again. For some reason pleasing Clara gave him a certain pleasure, almost like it was an honour to spend this much time with her. He didn't get out of the car with her this time but she paused at his window.

'Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it. Oh, and don't worry about bringing my bike here, one of Amy's friends will give me a lift home. It's been a nice night with you, actually. I'll see you at work tomorrow. And thanks for the McDonald's again, I did need it.' She grinned. He waved as he drove past and then she was gone, out of sight. But not out of mind. He couldn't stop thinking about the whole evening with her, how she was much more pleasant outside of work. All the rivalry of pranks and jokes seemed to fall away and instead left two people who genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It was all he could do not to think of what it might be like tomorrow at work. Will it return back to normal? Would she treat him with more respect? Would they both get on with each other now? Time would only tell, and he found himself anticipating it almost nervously. He'd never been so het up about a colleague before, and what they might think of him. When she had tried to resign, an alarm went off in his head, and despite all the madness and stressed he caused for him, the thought of her leaving was preposterous. It was like he was seeing her for the first time, noticing fully the curve of her eyes, the shade of brown in her hair, her soft features hardened, her pointy nose. After tonight he knew that it would be difficult for her not to treat him nicely after all that he'd done but Clara was unexpected, to say the least. You could never know what she was going to do. When he finally reached home he slumped down on the sofa, not bothering to turn the TV on but instead indulging in his own thoughts. His eyes flickered closed as he lay there but all too soon a noise appeared from the doorway and he groaned loudly.

'Where've you been so late at night? You can't have been in the office all this time.'

'It's none of your business.'

'Oh, I know, I just like to make it my business.'

'Lay off, Missy. I'm going to bed now so stop with your questions because I'm not answering them.'

'You're very defensive tonight, aren't you?' She said, her voice raising in that ridiculous high-pitched tone he hated.

Again, he said nothing but walked on, approaching the stairs and trying his best to ignore her.

'It's a woman, right?'

When he didn't reply she almost broke his eardrums. 'It is! You've been with a woman all night, haven't you, John? Wonders will never cease! John Smith out gallivanting with women.'

'I don't gallivant.' He spat, but in doing so gave her all the confirmation she needed.

'At least you're not denying it this time. What have you been doing, you naughty boy?'

'Missy...' He sighed heavily. He was going to lose his temper if she didn't stop.

'How old is she? What's her name?'

Her first question temporarily struck him still on the stairs and for moments he could hardly move his legs. She was young. A lot younger than he was, whole generations younger. The pride in his head had turned to embarrassment as he racked his brains to think of a number. She couldn't be more than thirty, which obviously meant no such relationship could ever exist. He shook his head, admonishing himself. She isn't his girlfriend now just because he helped her travel and eat. That was stupid. Of course they weren't. They were only friends, if that. But as he moved on and his legs finally helped him walk he realised that he wasn't even sure they were friends. It was just a simple boss and colleague relationship, nothing more. Missy had been praising him too highly, which had gone to his head. John Smith hadn't gallivanted boldly anywhere, not for the last twenty to thirty years, anyway. It was why he lived with her and not with a partner or a wife.

But as he lost sight of her his mouth shaped the words of her name, smiling at the thought of her again. When he ultimately reached peace and slipped into bed for a long time his thoughts were rioting. Clara had taken over his head and he knew it was shameful, but he couldn't help it as he drifted off to sleep.