Paulie glanced down at his watch. It was fast approaching three o'clock, and he found himself struggling to stay awake. He rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin in his hand. Kokoro busied herself putting a kettle on the stove. He took out a battered envelope from his pocket and sat it on the table without opening it. It was the concert tickets that Iceburg had given him as thanks for keeping watch outside his room that night.

"I found out how much these were worth," he began.

"A lot?"

The kettle began to whistle, and she turned off the heat. She placed a mug and a jar of instant coffee in front of him and filled it up.

"I had no idea," he said. "He probably expected me to take them and sell them on for the money."

He opened the jar and tapped some granules into his mug.

"I don't even know what to make of it. I mean, I feel stupid for not realising, but I wasn't looking for a handout. I told him I wasn't asking for money."

"Well, the sort of people that have trouble talking about their feelings are the type that end up wanting to do things for the people round them instead. Can understand why you might feel offended by it, but take it as a compliment if you can. He wanted to help you out."

"Even though I didn't want it, now that I really need it I'm kind of kicking myself…"

They heard a high pitched call from down the hallway.

"Granny!"

"Chimney, I'm in the kitchen," Kokoro called back.

Paulie took a sip of his coffee. It was far too hot and he winced. "You left her home alone?"

"Yeah, she can look after herself. Besides, nowhere for her to run off to here," Kokoro answered.

She dropped back into her chair with a weary sigh. Paulie frowned at her across the table.

"What if something happened?" he argued. "Like some kind of accident? It'd take emergency services an hour at least to sail out here. You should really leave her with someone, she's not old enough."

"Are you offering?" Kokoro laughed. "You worry too much. She's just fine. She's a little hyperactive sure, but she's more responsible than you'd think. Besides, I don't wanna be bothering Iceburg to take care of her all the time."

"Granny, I had a nightmare," Chimney whined, standing in the open doorway in her pyjamas. "Some bad guys were gonna blow up the whole city with a big laser canon."

Paulie turned in his chair.

"Oh, what're you doing here Mr Paulie?"

"He's staying here tonight," Kokoro explained. "A bit like Mr Iceburg does sometimes."

"Oh ok," she said. She quickly became distracted. "I'm thirsty. Can I have some juice?"

"Not in the middle of the night sweetheart," Kokoro said.

"But I'm thirsty!" Chimney looked at the empty bottles crowding the table. "And you and Paulie're drinking!"

"Grown-ups can drink all night if they want. Though they always wake up with a headache in the morning. You don't wanna wake up with a headache do you?"

"Juice doesn't give you a headache. Can I have some water then?"

"Paulie, could you fill her some? My knees are killing me."

"Yeah, sure," he said. He got up from his chair.

"Glasses are in the top cupboard," Kokoro called.

He reached one down and filled it. "There you go."

"What'd you say Chimney?"

"Thank you."

"Now back to bed with you," Kokoro said. "Where's that rabbit of yours?"

"Gonbe's a cat Granny. And he's still asleep."

She drank her water in one go and placed the empty glass on the table so quickly it nearly toppled. She latched onto Paulie's arm and he blushed, distinctly uncomfortable with it.

"I don't wanna go back to bed. I want to stay."

"Come on now, me and Paulie have things to talk about," Kokoro explained.

"Oh like what things?"

"Secret things."

Chimney grinned up at Paulie and started to hop up and down, shaking him along with her. It made him feel all the more worn out.

"I like secrets, you can tell me secrets, I always keep them! I'll tell you a secret Mr Paulie if you tell me one. Mr Iceburg told me not to tell, but I'll tell you."

Curiosity got the better of him.

"Um, sure then, alright."

"Mr Iceburg said the last time he was here that I'm gonna start to learn to be a train conductor soon. Isn't that cool? But don't tell anyone though, cause it's a secret. Shh."

He'd thought it'd be something about Iceburg himself. His heart sank. He was a little embarrassed he'd expected it in the first place.

"Now you have to tell me one!"

"I… uh… give me a moment," he mumbled.

"You have to tell me one cause I told you one," she said impatiently.

"I'm just trying to think..."

"How come you've been here telling Granny secrets all night but suddenly can't think of any now, huh?" she pouted, pulling at his arm.

"You're really annoying, you know," he grumbled.

She let him go and stuck out her tongue.

"Nuh uh, you are. But I know one of your secrets anyway," she announced. She turned to Kokoro mischievously. "Paulie likes that red haired pirate lady from the rubber pirate guy's crew."

Kokoro sent him a knowing look.

"Oh really?" she said unconvinced.

"That harlot? Where'd you get that idea from?"

"It's true though isn't it?" Chimney answered.

"Come on now Chimney, off to bed," Kokoro said.

She got to her feet and led Chimney out the door. Paulie was relieved to see her give very little protest. Kokoro stood guard at the doorway until she saw Chimney disappear back up the stairs.

"Better she thinks that's who you're interested in, right?" Kokoro laughed.

Paulie didn't laugh back. "You're treating this all like it's just for shits and giggles."

He reached for his mug and took another sip of his coffee. It was still far too hot.

"This is really hard for me, you know. Not knowing what I even feel…"

"Sorry."

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm so tired," Paulie said. "And this coffee's far too damn hot to drink."

"Maybe it'd be good for you to head on up and get some sleep instead," Kokoro offered. "We can talk some more in the morning."

"Maybe," he answered.

"You can stay in the guest room. Want me to get you some fresh bed sheets?"

"No, it's fine."

"Come, I'll show you the way."

He thought he'd taken the drinking pretty easy, but he still woke with a pounding headache in an unfamiliar bed, and wrapped in sheets that smelt of Iceburg. He quickly kicked them off.

He sat until he calmed down and oriented himself. He was at Kokoro's home. He'd stayed in her guestroom, and the place still bore Iceburg's scent cause he'd probably been the last one to stay. Not because they'd stayed there together.

He got up and made his way down the stairs.

"Morning," Kokoro called as he entered the kitchen.

"Ugh, how come you're so cheery?" he groaned, sitting down. "My head's killing me and I didn't drink half as much as you."

"I'm not easy to keep up with."

She laughed, but there was a sadness within it that Paulie felt he understood now. She stood a tall glass of tomato juice in front of him.

"That'll help. Can I fix you breakfast? Eating a bit will make you feel better too."

"Alright then."

"I'll get cooking and you get back to telling me your story," she told him.

"Got half a mind never to tell you anything ever again if you're just going to treat it so lightly," he complained. "But fine. It's not like I have anyone else I can confess to."

It was Sunday, so he was off work and in no hurry. He'd no intention of going to Sunday service with a hangover. The hymns would only hurt his head like hell, and his mother's slap on the wrist would be even worse.

He took a long drink of the juice then started.

After a night of sleep interrupted by dreams about headlines of varying severity, Paulie finally found himself unable to get back to sleep when he woke just after six o'clock. The sun was beginning to rise and streamed through the gap of his curtains impatiently. He showered, dressed and hurriedly left the house before anyone could be up and around to interrogate him on his route. He wanted to find out what the news said himself before it was rudely shoved into his face along with a pen and he'd be forced to smile back and sign it.

It took a few detours to avoid the early risers already about their business at ungodly hours. But much to his relief, he made it to Galley La headquarters unnoticed and unscarred. His clothes hadn't been as fortunate.

"Shit," he mumbled and brushed down his knees.

A layer of mud had coated his jeans when he ducked into a bush to hide from a local baker on morning delivery.

His shoes were also caked on the soles. He couldn't stride in walking dirt into the headquarters' fancy wool carpets. He removed them, and found a hose in the yard to spray them down then lay them out in the sun to dry. He sat down on a bench beside them and glared down at the toe peering out of the hole in his sock.

"Morning Mr Paulie," called a voice.

He glanced up to see Iceburg's housekeeper walking his way, a tall woman in overalls out emptying the bins. She stopped to throw her bags into a waste unit, then continued on towards him.

"Oh. Good morning," he replied.

He crossed his other foot over his sock with the hole.

"You're early today," she said.

"Two and a half hours. New record."

"Want me to let you in?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all." She smiled at him, fishing a ring of keys from her pocket. "Can I get you anything? Hot drink? Breakfast?"

"Not all that hungry, but some coffee would be nice right about now," he answered.

"Sure, I'll get that for you."

"Thanks, um… Carol was it?"

He got up. He could feel every jut and crease of the cobbled stone of the yard under him. She glanced at his feet. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice.

"You don't mind if I just leave my shoes out here? Had to wash them up."

"I can take them to the drying room, if you'd like," she offered. She bent to pick them up and they walked together towards the entrance.

"Didn't even know there was a drying room."

"I'll get you a pair of slippers too."

"That'd be great."

"Would you like me to get those jeans washed too?"

He'd hoped she hadn't noticed those either, though he supposed someone who made cleaning their living had trained their eye to hone in on dirt.

"I am meeting with the press later. Shit. Nearly forgot about that. Can't exactly turn up like this."

"Feel free to use the shower rooms," she said. "I'll get you a robe. Then just bring what you'd like washed over to the laundry room."

"Thanks. Probably should."

He pulled a twig out from his hair as she unlocked the front door.

He showered for the second time that morning, and sat down feeling self-consciously small in the expansive dining room in a GLC monogrammed bath robe and slippers. He decided to get his whole outfit washed just to be sure he wasn't reading a blow-by-blow report about his unpresentable appearance the next day.

Carol's shoes tapped across the tiled floor as she brought him over a tray.

"Coffee, Mr Paulie."

She sat a delicate porcelain cup of coffee in front of him, a matching paper thin milk jug and a sugar dish. He was almost scared to lift them for fear the frail handles would snap off in his fingers. It looked expensive to replace, not that anyone but himself would expect him to.

"Thanks," he answered.

"You're welcome. Thought you might like to read this too."

She placed the morning edition of the Water Seven Times in front of him, and he took a deep breath in to steel himself.

"At least I'm not front page news on this one today," he scowled. "Anyway, thanks Carol."

She left him alone to read.

It was the same paper he'd scheduled to interview with later, so their take was what he'd get grilled on soon enough. He flipped through the pages scanning them for what he was after. He found it on page four. It was a shorter article than he'd been expecting, but what it lacked in word count it made up for in tone. It was cutting and to the point, but they'd clearly done their research. As much as he hated to admit their competence, there wasn't much exaggeration and he still came across badly.

"Shit," he muttered to himself.

The door swung open again.

"Paulie! Good morning!" came the tellingly massive voice. "Carol told me you were in here. Just came to say hello, haven't seen you in a while."

"Tilestone, for Christ's sake keep it down. You'll wake Mr Iceburg," Paulie shot back.

"Sorry, can't help it! Anyway, what are you doing here this early anyway?" he asked, taking up a seat on the long table next to him. "Stay the night?"

"No!" he replied defensively. "Anyway, I could ask you the same question."

"Mr Iceburg's letting me stay in one of the guest rooms for a while. I was staying on Lulu's spare bed for a bit, but I kind of broke it. He wasn't too happy. My place got flood damage from Aqua Laguna, you see."

"Amazing the damage spread that far this year."

"Yeah, terrifying right?" Tilestone laughed nervously. "Haven't said congratulations yet on your big news! Haha, amazing!"

He thumped Paulie on the back nearly winding him. Tilestone did nothing in small measures. It was both his charm and his curse.

"Thanks, I guess," he answered once he got his breath back. "I still don't really feel like I'm the right guy for the job though."

"Nonsense," he grinned. "Anyway Paulie, Lulu said you were in some trouble again."

"Really, it's nothing at all. And keep your voice down about that. This is why we don't tell you things, you know?"

"If you need any help, I've got your back."

"Appreciate it. But I'll be just fine. Just a little money needing paid back. No big deal."

"Well, I'm relieved! Had to make sure you were doing alright."

He thumped Paulie on the shoulder this time as he got back up. Paulie's arm went dead.

"Better head. That fishing ship ain't gonna build itself."

"I'm kind of jealous," Paulie replied. "Starting to get worried I'm never going to see the shipyard again at this rate."

"Call on over this afternoon. We miss you over at Dock One."

"I'm missing you guys too, paperwork isn't exactly a thrill a minute." Paulie tentatively lifted the fragile cup and took a sip. "If I get the chance I'll take you up on that offer."

"Great! Lulu'll be around this afternoon too," Tilestone beamed. "He and the guys've nearly finished all the city repairs already. It's a good thing you called off that bet."

Paulie was sure it was meant to make him feel relieved, but it riled his more competitive side. He tried his best not to show it.

"Hopefully see you later then," he said.

"Bye Paulie!"

"Go on, get your loud ass out of here already."

Paulie was taking a read through the rest of the paper when Iceburg entered the room for breakfast. He took up a seat opposite him.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here Paulie."

"Mr Iceburg. Um, good morning."

"What's the bath robe about?"

"Oh, I, uh, took a few detours on the way here." Paulie shrugged, shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair. "Sort of messed myself up a little trying to dodge the public. Nearly forgot about having to meet with the press this morning, so Carol offered to wash my clothes up for me."

"I could lend you something, if you'd like," Iceburg offered.

"No really. I'll wear my own this time. I think that'd be best."

"If you're sure."

"Yes."

Paulie saw Iceburg's gaze fix squarely on the newspaper between them.

"So you've read the paper then? Well, how bad was it?"

"I'm not going to lie, it was pretty bad. Not that I blame you really, it's those asshole reporters that wrote this shit."

He made to take a drink of his coffee, but he'd forgotten he'd already finished it.

"Sorry," Iceburg replied.

"That's what this interview's for, right? Damage repair," Paulie said, with a nervous smile. "But what you said here was pretty much the only saving grace. Did you mean this?"

"What was that?"

"Uh," he cleared his throat. "'Paulie might be a bit rough around the edges, but he's a dedicated and reliable worker and very honest natured. I felt I could trust him with my life that night, and I know, if I ever had to, I would have no hesitations to trust him with as much again,' it says."

Carol entered the room with a clack of her shoes.

"Good morning Mr Iceburg."

"Ah, good morning Caroline," Iceburg replied, and got up from his chair to greet her. "How are you today?"

"Just fine. It's sure lively around here this morning. Nice, isn't it?" She smiled over at Paulie, still sat at the table. "Will I get you the usual?"

"That would be lovely, please," Iceburg said. "Have you eaten yet Paulie?"

"No, but I'm not really hungry."

"It would be good to have something before your interview. Could you bring enough for two?"

"No really, I'm not."

"Yes, of course," Carol answered. "I'll refill your coffee too Mr Paulie."

"Thanks," he said, as she reached for his cup.

She left and Iceburg sat back in his chair. There was a moment of silence that Paulie wasn't sure whether to fill.

"Hey, uh, Mr Iceburg, you wouldn't mind doing some practice with me would you? For the interview?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't mind at all," he replied. "You don't mind if I take a read through the article first?"

Paulie spun the paper round his way and flipped to the right page. Iceburg fetched his glasses from his pocket. Paulie made note that he used them for more than just drafting after all.

"I'd probably rather you never read it at all, but read away. You'll get a pretty good idea of what they're going to throw at me after that."

Caroline brought in another tray and set out the table, bringing two coffees and a basket full of freshly baked brioche rolls with some butter and jam.

"Thank you, fantastic Caroline," Iceburg said.

He worked his way through the article quietly and Paulie took a roll for something to do. It was still warm and the butter and jam melted deep into the sweet bread. He ate it much quicker than he'd meant to.

Iceburg was still reading, so he took another. And then a third.

It was about time for him to leave if he wanted to get over to the newspaper's studio in good time. He was dressed again and had given his hair a comb through for good measure. He turned back to Iceburg before heading out the front door.

"Do you have any advice?" Paulie asked him nervously.

"Just be yourself, you'll be just fine."

"I won't," he fussed. "You've been doing this shit for years so you probably have no idea what it's like being this worried about it."

"I still get nervous."

"You do?"

"Well, I'm only human Paulie," Iceburg replied. "Anyway, I have a trick I use sometimes."

"It's not that thing where you imagine the interviewer in their underwear is it?" he blushed. "Cause that's really not going to do it for me."

"No," Iceburg laughed. "It's still a little odd maybe."

He reached into his blazer pockets, pulling out a handful of seeds and a set of keys in one hand, his glasses case in the other. A couple of business cards fell out to the floor.

"You keep a load of crap in there," Paulie scolded.

He checked his inner pocket, and Paulie watched his expression change as he found what he'd been looking for. He pulled out a thin plastic tube and unscrewed the lid.

"It might seem ridiculous, but it helps to calm your breathing," he said.

He drew out a wand from the tube and carefully blew a line of soap bubbles. Paulie watched unimpressed.

"Bubbles, really?" he said flatly. "It is ridiculous. Who came up with that one?"

"I was watching Chimney for Kokoro one afternoon before giving a speech," Iceburg explained. He offered the bottle to Paulie. "Here."

Paulie surprised himself by actually taking it. He tentatively took out the wand and blew but the bubble popped straight away. He tried again and did no better and he began to grow frustrated.

"God, I can't when you're watching me. It's too embarrassing," he said. "This is stupid."

"You have to relax a bit more," Iceburg offered.

Despite his self-consciousness, Paulie allowed himself to put a bit more effort into calming his breath before trying again. He blew slowly and a couple of bubbles floated out the end of the wand.

"That's better. Breathing exercises help slow the heart-rate and lower blood pressure, so they can be quite calming. Of course, the bubbles aren't really necessary, but it helps make things feel less serious I think," Iceburg explained. "Anyway, if you'd like, I could go with you? I wouldn't mind."

"Think it's better if you stay here and work on that list," Paulie answered, still feeling awkward. "I can manage. It's not like you're gonna be able to just hold my hand through these things forever."

"No, of course not."

"I feel like I'm heading to my own execution," he mumbled.

He pushed open the door.

"Oh, here," he said, handing the tube of bubbles back to Iceburg.

"Bring it with you," Iceburg said.

"Uh, alright."

Paulie stuck it in his top pocket between a pair of cigars.

"Mr Paulie? They're ready for you now," a young man called. Fresh faced as he was, Paulie assumed he was probably a working intern, still learning on the job.

He led Paulie up the hallway and opened the door for him.

Paulie entered the room. The intern followed him in and stood in a corner with a couple more senior press women readying their pens and notepads.

"Nice to meet you Mr Paulie," the interviewer smiled. He got up and shook Paulie's hand.

Paulie nodded back without response. Not only was he still a mess of nerves, but they'd kept him on a seat in the reception waiting for at least two hours before finally calling him in. He felt justifiably pissed off.

"Take a seat."

He did as told.

"Thanks for coming to talk with us today. You don't mind if we record this?" he asked. The thin man gestured towards a transponder snail on the table between them that had obviously been rigged up as a recording system.

"Well, no I guess," he replied.

"Can we get you anything, a drink maybe?"

"A glass of water would be nice," he said. He gave in to manners. "Please."

The intern entered a discussion with the two other reporters, then left the room. Apparently no one in the journalism business could get anything done without talking it over with a crowd of their strange species, but the kid eventually returned with a tall glass with ice and a slice of lemon.

"Thanks."

"So I'm not sure if you read our report this morning?" the interviewer began.

"Yes, I have," Paulie answered.

His seat was a little uncomfortable. The back rest tilted back too far, so he sat himself forwards straightening up.

"Is it true that you actually failed the Galley La entry test?"

"Yes, first time around."

"So Mr Iceburg really rejected you."

"Yes. Can't believe I had the balls, but after that I went to go ask him to help mentor me through the test. Apparently no one had ever asked him before."

"He took you on as an apprentice after that?"

"Think he was impressed with my initiative or something."

"And then he began to train you?"

"Well, he was so busy that it was hard to fit me into his schedule," Paulie explained. He took a drink of his water and cleared his throat. "So at first, all I really did was shadow him. Course it was only when he started to teach me from scratch that I realised I'd been doing everything wrong for years. Made sense I failed the test."

"Did you know Mr Iceburg personally before that at all?"

"Hadn't ever even spoken to him before. But I knew of him of course, everyone did. Back then I worked at what's now our Dock Four, and I'd seen him around our yard plenty of times. Seems like everyone called him when they needed advice."

"He had quite a lot of influence in the shipbuilding community even before Galley La then?"

He glanced over at the reporters in the corner scribbling away. It was a little distracting.

"Yeah. Course we knew he'd worked on the Puffing Tom, so we were really intimidated by him, or I was at least. I mean, it was the Puffing Tom that first made me decide to become a shipwright after all."

"Oh really? So you already had a great deal of respect for him?"

"Of course," he admitted. "But you know, there was rumours about him, that he was this intense kind of guy. So I'd always been a little nervous when I saw him about."

"That wouldn't have made approaching him all that easy then."

"Don't think I've ever been more scared of anything to be honest," he said with a sigh. "But I figured it was my last shot. If it didn't work, I figured that was it. It wasn't meant to be."

"Do you believe in that? Fate, Mr Paulie?"

"I had a very religious upbringing. So to some extent, yeah."

"Could you tell us some more about that?"

"I grew up in a Catholic convent. Shared a room with about twelve other kids."

"What was that like?"

"Like having a bunch of brothers and sisters. You didn't get a moment's peace honestly."

He'd plenty of good memories too of course, but the press had done nothing to deserve hearing them.

"Are you still religious?"

"I don't go to mass or confession as much as I should," he said honestly. "But I still believe in God."

"Mr Iceburg quite famously is an atheist. Do you ever clash about religion?"

He took a pause. "We don't talk about it really. I don't agree with everything that Mr Iceburg believes and I don't expect that he would feel the same way about things that I do."

"That's quite a mature way of thinking," the interviewer smiled at him. He seemed impressed.

"I just respect him, that's all."

"That's interesting," he replied.

Paulie saw the man look over to his colleagues and watched as they gave him a signal. Paulie wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean.

"Do you have much of a relationship beyond your professional working one?" he asked Paulie.

"I think of him as my mentor still, first and foremost," he explained. "As my boss second, and I think he does consider me a friend too, or he's said as much. Now that I've been working around headquarters lately, I feel like I'm starting to get more of a sense of him as a person. I'd consider him a friend too."

In the corner of his eye, the three continued to beckon the man on and Paulie was beginning to find it irritating.

"So you'd say that you're close?"

"Close?"

"I suppose what we're interested in, is why you? Not that we're questioning your abilities of course, but you're still quite young. Mid twenties. Why did he pick you over some of the more experienced shipwrights of Dock One, do you think?"

"Honestly I have no idea," he said.

"Do you two have a special relationship?"

"If you're asking what I think you're asking, then no," he stated, folding his arms.

He glared at the man.

"And if you think Iceburg'd give anyone a promotion just cause they were lovers, I think you completely misjudge his professionalism."

"Oh… ok."

Apart from the frantic scratch of the two journalists' pens on their paper, the room went quiet.

"I was his first ever apprentice, that's probably the reason. Because I'm still young, there's plenty of time to train me to do the job right I suppose."

"So a case of 'can't teach an old dog new tricks'?" the interviewer replied. He nervously laughed to try and lighten the mood but Paulie face remained serious.

"Maybe that's what he thought, I don't know. Ask him yourself."

"So," he said, moving along the conversation. "We've heard you have a bit of a gambling problem."

Paulie finished his water and tried his best to think of Iceburg's advice to slow his breathing to calm himself.

"It's a hobby. Not a problem."

"You owe a fair few a fair bit of money from what we gathered. I'd consider that a problem."

It took everything in his power not to get riled up. He forced down the impulse to get up and deck the guy for that one.

"I suppose the city is worried about how you're going to manage the company's finances."

"Galley La has an accountant," he stated. "And it's not like I'd go betting them away, I do take my job seriously."

"Have you always been a gambling man?"

"My dad was. He took me along with him to the yagara races and that sort of thing. That's just how we spent time together and it rubbed off on me."

"Before the convent?"

"Yes, but he'd still come visit. I'd go out to see him sometimes too."

"Forgive me for asking such a sensitive question Mr Paulie, but…"

"He up and left," Paulie interrupted. "Went off to chase another woman who ended up putting him through the wringer. Karma's just as much a bitch as she was."

"And your mother?"

"Became a nun."

"At the convent?"

He stopped dead.

"Shit," he said. "You have to take that off the record, alright?"

"Why's that?"

"Look, I can't explain," he panicked.

In fifteen years he'd never slipped up on their charade. He kicked himself for messing up at the worst possible moment. When his mother had brought him along with her to the convent, she'd claimed he was another orphan. The nun's weren't meant to have children of their own.

"Just don't report on that. Please…"

"Alright," the man answered. But Paulie didn't trust his non-committal tone, or the glint in his eye that only someone who knew they'd stuck gold could hold.

"Please."

The interview went on longer than expected, and he'd had to stay afterwards for a photoshoot that he didn't know who to direct his rage at for not warning him about in advance. When he made his way back to Iceburg's office, it was already late in the afternoon and he received no reply when he knocked. He pushed open the door and found the room empty.

"Mr Iceburg?" he called.

"Oh, Paulie. Is that you finished already?" he heard Iceburg's voice come from down the hallway. "I'm in here. Three doors down on the left."

"What do you mean 'already'?" he huffed. "I thought it'd last an hour, tops."

Paulie followed his voice, and stepped into a room filled with boxes of papers that Iceburg had clearly spent the afternoon sorting.

"What do you think?" Iceburg asked.

"Of what exactly?"

"Your new office."

He took a look around. It was a little smaller than Iceburg's own, but similar, with plenty of open space, a sturdy mahogany desk and tall bookshelves lining the room fit to burst. It was nice, sure, but he couldn't imagine wanting to spend his days cooped up over papers by gaslight instead of up at the docks with a hammer in his hand and the sun shining on his face. He thought about Tilestone's offer from the morning and his heart sank knowing he'd missed the chance to get up there for his lunch break. It was nearing four.

"Thanks," he managed at last. "But don't really know what you're expecting me to say. All I know is you shouldn't have been wasting your time tidying when you've got a full schedule of important things to be getting on with."

"I thought it'd be something a bit more pleasant to come back to after your interview," Iceburg smiled at him. "Anyway, how did it go?"

"They don't exactly go easy on you do they? Did pretty well not to punch the guy to be honest."

"Hm," Iceburg answered with a frown that furrowed his brow. "Youth."

"Anyway, leave this to me and get back to it. You're working on the specs for that Marine fleet order, right?"

"Well, yes," he said. "It was going well until I needed to find something in here and got side tracked."

"Would've been better to come back and hear you'd finished up another project or something," Paulie stated. "Anyway, can't change anything now."

"If I helped out, we could get this place cleared up faster," Iceburg offered.

"Oh no. You're not getting out of it that easy," Paulie argued.

"Worth a try."

Paulie kicked him out of the room.

He stayed on to sort out the office until it was dark outside. He turned out his light and closed over the door.

He went over to Iceburg's office.

"Just making sure you've been doing your work," he said, peering in. "I'm going to head."

"Of course," Iceburg smirked back and got up from his drafting desk. He crossed the room fumbling out a set of keys from his pocket. "Your office key. I have a front door key cut for you too."

"Thanks," Paulie replied, almost dropping them as he shoved them into the pocket of his jeans. "Don't work too late."

"I won't," Iceburg smiled.

He locked the front door of the headquarters behind him, just to get used to it. The cover of night felt safer now that he'd people and conversations to avoid. He didn't have to resort to stealth this time to make it home.

Once again, he found his landlady waiting on his entrance stairway.

"Ms Lia?"

"Oh, Paulie, sorry, you have to forgive me," she fretted.

"What for, exactly?"

"Those men were back again. They left this." She handed over a small brown parcel bound by elastic bands. "I know I should have just put in your mailbox for you, but they were a bit forward. I thought it might be safer to give it to you myself just in case."

He scowled at the thought of Deano's guys bothering an innocent old woman. He was going to have words with him.

"And that's not the worst of it," she explained. She cupped her hands to her face worriedly. "Paulie, I'm sorry, but I took a look at what was in it. I think it might be a good idea to go talk inside for a minute."

"That bad, is it?"

"You're lucky it was just me that got this envelope, that's all I'll say for now."

"Hm, come on in then, I'll make you a cup of something. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea please," she answered.

He unlocked his door and she followed him inside.