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though he wanted to bounce an idea. He took his time, leaning back in his seat sipping from his coffee while she waited. Eventually, he put
down his cup, leant over the desk towards her, and stared.
    Annette felt uncomfortable when people met her gaze. It made her wonder if she had plucked her eyebrows recently.
    ‘How’s Helen getting on?’ Richard said, at last.
    Annette frowned slightly. ‘Alright. Timekeeping isn’t brilliant but she does the work okay.’
    Richard said, ‘Hmm . . .’
    ‘Is there a problem?’
    Richard sighed. ‘To be honest, Annette, I’m not sure. Something a little tricky has come up and I need your help. I need to take you into my confidence. I know I don’t have to
tell you that confidentiality is very important.’
    Annette found the thought of being told something important rather refreshing.
    ‘I’ve been contacted by Personnel. Helen’s references didn’t come through for a while. I can’t really go into details – I’m sure you’ll
appreciate. Anyway, I will be locking my office from now on. I want you to have a quiet word with Joan, but do it discreetly. Don’t mention Helen’s name.’ Annette nodded.
‘It would be very unfair on Helen,’ Richard continued, ‘if her name was mentioned. I don’t think we should discriminate against a person because of a few mistakes they may
or may not have made in the past.’
    ‘No, yes,’ said Annette, thinking, this does not surprise me. This does not surprise me at all.
    Richard rose from his chair and went over to the window. He tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged. ‘After all, we all make mistakes.’
    By his tone of voice, she knew that ‘the word’ was over. She rose from her seat. She saw that his coffee cup was drained so she reached out for it.
    ‘I appreciate your discretion Annette, I really do,’ Richard said. ‘It’s not often you find a personal secretary as trustworthy as you are, even in this current job
climate. I’m very glad I am able to keep you on.’
    William was standing in front of Helly’s desk, running one hand absent-mindedly through his wiry brown hair and scratching his scalp. He was explaining to her that the
Liverpool Street specification had to be photocopied by three, in time to catch the post. They were only giving the contractors a week to price the job. Helly had her feet on her desk. She did not
look overly concerned.
    She brought her feet down smartly as Richard approached. She swivelled her chair to face William and said brightly, ‘Okey dokey. Do you want them bound?’
    ‘Er . . . no,’ said William. ‘Stapled will do.’
    ‘William.’ Richard came and stood beside him. He was smoking. As he talked, he paused occasionally to flick ash into the metal wastepaper basket next to Helly’s desk. ‘We
need to have a chat about Rosewood Cottage. We are going to have to put the brakes on the purchase.’
    ‘Planning problem?’ William dropped the Liverpool Street spec onto Helly’s desk.
    Richard shook his head. ‘Budget. I did some sums over the weekend. We’ll manage though. We can put the portakabin on the wasteground to the east.’
    ‘Oh, okay.’
    Richard noticed that his cigarette had gone out. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a small platinum lighter. ‘Take a seat,’ he said, nodding his head in the direction of
his office as he re-lit his cigarette. ‘I’ll just get a coffee.’
    When William had gone, Richard paused for a moment in front of Helly’s desk. She had picked up William’s specification and was flicking through it, slowly. Richard took a deep drag
from his cigarette and exhaled. Then he reached out a hand and picked up a red stapler that was sitting on Helly’s desk. She did not look up. He turned the stapler over in his hand. Then he
leant forward and put it back down, gently, in a different position. He patted it twice, lightly. Then he tossed his cigarette into her bin, without stubbing it out, and went to get