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wanted to go to Amsterdam.’
    â€˜Marty, these girls would eat you alive,’ Lisa said. ‘Chew you up and spit you out in little pieces.’
    â€˜It’s not going to be like that,’ Karen insisted, without conviction. ‘And I’ve never even been on a plane before. Had to get a passport as well. A night out in Belfast would be a lot less hassle, if you ask me.’
    â€˜You only live once,’ Marty ventured, ‘but anyway I’d rather go to Thailand. The boss goes once a year, says it’s the business. Brings home these counterfeit cigarettes that he tries to sell all the drivers.’
    â€˜And does he take his wife?’ Lisa asked.
    â€˜Never mentions her. I don’t think so.’
    â€˜Didn’t think so either and sooner or later he’ll bring home something besides phoney fags,’ Lisa said, pretending to smoke the cigarette and blowing imaginary rings through the exaggerated pursed circle of her lips at Marty watching her in the mirror.
    They dropped Pat off first and then Lisa who told them she was absolutely gagging for the fag as she lumbered wearily out of the car.
    â€˜That one’s barking mad,’ Marty said as they drove off.
    â€˜She’s all right. Likes a laugh, that’s all.’
    â€˜Do mothers go on their daughter’s hen do?’
    â€˜That’s what I asked but she wants me to go and it’s coming up to my fortieth and it’s supposed to be a treat for me as well. I got tired arguing. Sometimes it’s easier just to go with the flow.’
    He nodded as if he understood. Then he looked at her for a second as they reached her house. ‘Any chance of a cup of coffee, Karen?’
    She smiled at him before saying, ‘Sorry, Marty, there isn’t and there’s never any chance. Remember, never mix business and pleasure.’
    â€˜No harm in asking.’
    â€˜No, no harm and you have a good day,’ she said as she closed the door.
    When she got in the house everywhere was dark and quiet. Going into the kitchen she put the kettle on, warming her hands against its sides as she stood waiting for it to boil. Shannon wasn’t up yet and wouldn’t be for another half an hour so this was her time, when she had breakfast and rested before the demands of the day imposed themselves once again. Sometimes if she was very tired she would go to bed still in her clothes for a couple of hours but there was always the danger of slipping into a deep sleep and being late for work in the care home. After she had dropped a piece of bread into the toaster she emptied her pockets into the biscuit tin she kept in a cupboard. Today she had only brought four paper clips, two red and two yellow. She added them to the others, the pencils and pens, the rubber bands, the little memo block in lilac, the tiny bits and bobs that no one was ever going to miss, and let her hand lift and sift through them like sand. Why she bothered to bring them she wasn’t sure when the other women only thought of secreting more useful items like toilet rolls and dusters or the odd wad of photocopying paper and would laugh at her if they knew. Kevin the doorman always looked at them on their way out as if he’d like to search them, and not out of pervy pleasure, but because he hated the idea that someone might dare to filch something from his little kingdom.
    She stole other things. But they couldn’t do you for looks. So when she did the desks she always studied the photographs, sometimes holding them close as she pretended to dust. Held their family snapshots. Children in Disney World. Children coming out of the sea in black wetsuits and carrying bodyboards. Engagement parties. Groups of people leaning into each other around restaurant tables with their glasses raised to the camera as if it was their best friend. Young mothers cradling newly arrived babies. She was familiar with it all – their mugs with funny slogans