LUNCH

I am tying up a large bundle of newspapers which will eventually be sent back, unsold to Lumoco Printers Ltd. I find the experience a cathartic one. I can drift off and think about other things. It's like tying up a big birthday present. I enjoy the feeling of the rough twine, running through my hands.

Pete is a few feet away, sitting on the work bench. He is eating a Pot Noodle. I am pleased to report that, because of the hypnotic effect of the twine and the bundle, I can barely hear his slurping and masticating. Barely. I have decided not to tell Pete about the phone call I received yesterday. CJ wants me to fire Pete. I am not so sure that this is a good idea.

With a deft movement, I turn the bundle over and finish off the final knot. We have a machine to do this now, but I prefer to use my hands. I feel my muscles tense against the weight. It pays to be strong in this job.

I do not get the chance to start eating my sandwich immediately because Janet from the Listergate Depot walks in. Everything stops. I feel uncofortable, embarrassed, but I can't move or speak. Though I'm not looking at him, I imagine Pete is in exactly the same position, mouth agape, a forkful of dripping noodles suspended above their container.

'Alex told me to pass you this,' she says. She is standing in the centre of the room, a bored look on her face. She passes me a delivery positioning chit. I am aware that my hand shakes slightly as I take it from her. Instantly regretting the involuntary action, I lick my lips.