A grey Monday morning. I’m sat – no, I’m slumped – behind the desk in my office. I look wearily at the clock. Only 10 o’clock – far too early to slip out for a coffee. The boss is strict and she’s been picking at me for a while. I’ll keep the blinds on the partition shut and only leave the room to use the copier today. Christ, I’m 34 years old and I’m scared of my boss! It’s warm inside my grey office cocoon, but I can see the cold rain spattering the floor to ceiling window. Rain falling from the grey sky onto the grey streets far below.

My computer screen isn’t grey. It’s a piercing white rectangle that’s too close to my eyes. I can’t focus on the numbers. Shouldn’t have drank yesterday. Shouldn’t be drinking alone any day. I’ve been drinking alone for 6 months, since my marriage ended and I decided to follow a job here, halfway across the country. No real friends here – people in the office are jerks. People in my local bar are jerks. Maybe I’m the jerk, I smile.

My phone buzzes, a shaft of sound piercing my ear. I pick up. “Work experience is here,” the receptionist chirps. “Been told she’s yours this morning. Sending her through now.” I put the phone down and huff. I can’t remember being asked to chaperone some kid for the morning. I should probably pay more attention. Or read my emails once in a while.

I hear the knock on the door. It’s open before I can speak and a dark blonde head appears. A striking, confident face grins at me. “Am I in the right place?” She’s cheerful. Large hazel eyes hold their gaze on mine from behind black-framed glasses. I wave her in. “I’m afraid you are. Close the door behind you.” My voice is gruff. I force a smile. She isn’t a kid. She’s an assured looking young woman in heels and a smart black pencil skirt. She grins again. “I know, I know. I’m a bit old for work experience. I’m 22. It’s embarrassing really. Your boss is my aunt. My Daddy thinks I need to get up a little earlier in the morning so he’s making me come here for the week. I’m Heather, by the way.” I stand up and shake her extended hand. Her grip lingers a little. Her eyes are still fixed on me.

“I’m gonna level with you, Heather. I’ve got a bad case of the Mondays. And a hangover. And I don’t really like my job. Or this town. In fact, I’m probably the worst example for you to follow in this entire fucking office.” She laughs. “I’m being serious. Really, I am. What do you want to learn about?” She’s still laughing.