N

If I am not completely mistaken, that moon-faced mongol is flirting with her. And there's another issue here too - why is she over in our part of the warehouse so often? There's absolutely no need for her to be here except . . . well the stark reality is just too dreadful to contemplate.

They are lunching together. She: pasta salad with an identifiable Asda logo on the lid. He: jammie dodgers and a can of Red Bull. I'm sitting at the computer with the publications list open at 'N' in front of me. News of the World. Nexus. Nuts. My brie and redcurrant sandwich is lying, slightly compressed on the work surface.