Harry sat at his desk, arm outstretched, file proffered.
"No significant risk!" he snapped.
Ruth took the file.
"You sure about that?" his tone was harsh and challenging.
"I … " she hesitated.
"Page 13. Look again and this time with more than a cursory glance." He thrust the file in her direction, turning his gaze away, "Unless you're too tired," he muttered under his breath.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.
"You know very well what that means, Ruth, the whole bloody section knows what that means."
"Well it's a mystery to me. The whole day's a mystery. I wish I'd never come in."
"I bet you do. A day in bed, is that what you would have preferred?"
"The way I'm feeling yes, Harry, it is."
She turned away.
"Then next time, I would advise your overnight dalliances be a little more professional Ruth, it will make your life somewhat easier and my department function considerably more efficiently."
"Last night?" she stammered, cursing the name of Ros bloody Myers.
"It's none of my business who you sleep with, Ruth. Just don't bring it to work."
"Who I what?"
This, thought Ruth, was beginning to spiral out of all control!
"Last night," he said in a monotone of understanding, taking care to strip all the hurt, betrayal and jealousy from his voice.
"Last night..." she repeated, "I spent on a bus, Harry."
"Spare me the details."
"Coming to see you."
"Of course you did," his voice was dripping with sarcasm, "Funny though, you never turned up."
"You weren't there."
"No, Because I was on my way to yours."
"Well, there was no need, Harry, I was on the bus."
"Back seat, was it?"
She looked at him blankly wondering what her seating arrangements had to do with anything.
"Was it?!" he demanded.
"Yes, it was, actually."
"Upper deck, back seat knee trembler and then round to his!" And suddenly he couldn't control the anger or the jealousy or the hurt.
"What?!" she spluttered.
"Back to his for seconds, was it?"
"The only 'him' was a bloody cleaner," she snapped in frustration.
"Well, when opportunity knocks, Ruth, why say no!"
She grabbed at the fury she felt and held it tight.
"You're not worthy of that," she spat out, turning to the door, only just clinging onto her self control.
"And you're not worthy of behaving like a slut."
The air in the room stopped. Everything simply stopped.
The heat rose in her cheeks and the anger boiled in her veins: the fury was free.
"Coming from a serial adulterer!" she hissed, spinning back to him.
Suddenly he was on his feet in front of her, "I've not been near a woman in three years and believe me at this moment in time I thank god for that!"
"You and me both!"
She turned to the door but he caught her wrist roughly in his hand.
"Somewhat less reticent last night, weren't you?!"
"Get off me," she pulled away, but he pushed her forward. Her back thumped against the wall.
"You have no idea, Ruth, no idea!" His words were laden, his face close, his eyes on fire.
"I have no idea?" she repeated scornfully, "You're the one who's clueless Harry. Totally bloody clueless!"
She tried to turn from him but he thrust her shoulder back.
"Is this too close to home, is it?" his voice reverberated through her, his mouth so close to her ear, his breath hot against the raging anger in her cheek. "Or could you not find the guts to simply tell me you weren't interested?"
Suddenly he let go her wrist and pushed himself away from her, reining back the emotions, ashamed at his lack of control, disappointed in both himself and her.
He turned, leaning against his desk, his back to her.
His next words were hushed. Anger restrained. Jealousy caged.
"Get out Ruth, before I embarrass myself further."
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to go home.
"I spent last night on a bus, Harry, fuelled by far too much wine, me not the bus. I was coming to tell you how I felt about you. What happened after that I regret intensely. But you know what? Having had the day from hell, I'm glad! Glad that all this has revealed you for who you are, Harry. Jealous, petty and ignorant. If you have so little respect for me, why should I have any whatsoever for you?"
And with that, the door slid closed.