She whipped up some insta-porridge and shoved the bowl in the microwave before pouring herself a coffee. Then she got distracted by scrolling Facebook on her phone, forgetting to check that the milk didn’t boil over. Her uncle was arguing with everyone about Brexit again. The microwave beeped, and she grabbed her porridge. It’d spilled over a bit, but it was just a tiny blob. She was too busy to sort it out. Someone else could do it.
3
8:20 a.m
Martin was humming Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” as he stepped into the office. His daughter, Emily, had been singing and dancing to it all morning, and now he had it stuck in his head.
“Morning, guys! Beautiful day for it!” Martin made a show of shaking out his coat as he walked in.
Sue groaned. “Beautiful day for ducks, you mean.”
Martin chuckled as he hung up his coat. He peeked through the blinds. “It’ll brighten later, apparently. Not sure I believe the forecast though. How was the weekend, Sue?” He propped himself up on one of the empty desks behind her so that she had to spin her chair around. Martin’s gaze went straight to the cracked skin and bunions on her feet. Maybe he needed to introduce a new rule about wearing shoes in the office.
“Well, I saw my grandson,” she said. “It was his fifth birthday. They had a birthday party involving these wild animals that came with a handler. I did not care for the tarantula.” She shuddered. “A lizard went missing at one point. They found it in Dottie’s shoe. Quite a palaver. I don’t understand why these kids need themed parties. Everything’s a theme these days.”
Martin nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Our Emily had a Frozen theme for her birthday. Of course, Ange planned it. Spent 450 quid on it, if you can believe it! We had an Elsa impersonator, a two-tier cake, party bags for all the kids, decorations, the lot. And on top of that, I had to shell out for a Nintendo.” He rolled his eyes. “But if I put my foot down, I’m the bad guy.” He was talking more to himself now. “I don’t get a say in anything, you know.”
“That’s not right,” Sue said.
Martin waggled his index finger. “Right! A man in his own house not getting a say. The hens ruling the coop.” He allowed his foot to swing back and forth as he remained half sitting on the desk. His own father wouldn’t have allowed the women to make the decisions in his household. His father had been a disciplinarian. When David Brewster walked into the house, the atmosphere changed as suddenly as switching off a light. The house would quieten. Martin’s mother would take the food out of the oven, plates warmed just so. His father would shove his feet into slippers, collect the paper from the kitchen counter by the door. The family would eat in silence while his father read the paper.
Martin pulled himself back to the present. “Anyway, I’d best get on. Big day today, isn’t it? We need that exam timetable finalised. Or else we’re staying late.”
Sue’s jaw dropped open. “We are?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “I sent an email round last week. You were copied in, Sue. Today’s the deadline.”
“Well, I…” She twisted her chair around and unlocked the screen.
Martin pretended not to see the e-book PDF pop up into view. He simply hopped down from the desk and made his way towards his office, giving Helen a quick wave on the way.
4
8:40 a.m
Krish didn’t check his watch as he swiped into the office, but he knew he was late. He also knew exactly what Sue was going to say, and his jaw was already clenched in preparation.
“Afternoon,” Sue said, her head popping up from above her computer screen.
There it was.
Krish forced himself to smile as he unbuttoned his coat. He tossed it onto the rack, dumped his messenger bag onto the stained carpet, and jammed his finger against the power button on the computer unit.
“What’s it like out there now?” Sue asked.
He dropped onto his desk chair with a sigh. “Pissing it down. It’s running down the road like a stream.”
Sue nodded at the desk opposite Krish. “Is she sick again?”
“Who, Penny?” Krish bent down to retie a shoelace. He’d only walked up from the car park and already his feet were wet. “Don’t know.”
“Helen?”
Krish gritted his teeth as Sue shouted across the room. He cursed the day his desk was moved next to Sue’s.
Helen stood up.
“Is Penny off sick?”
“She hasn’t rung in,” Helen replied. “Justine still is though.”
“Oh well. No surprise there.” Sue chuckled to herself.
Unfortunately, Krish allowed his eyes to drop to the floor, where he saw Sue’s bare feet yet again. Why did she always have her feet out on show? This was a workplace, not a beach, and yet Sue always had to take off her shoes as soon as she got there. It was damn inconsiderate.
While the computer was taking forever to load—he reckoned they’d been due a technology update for about five years now—he went through to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He thought about asking Sue if she wanted one, but then he decided not to bother. He did, however, pop his head into Martin’s office on the way to see if he’d like a cuppa.
“Go on then,” Martin said. “How was your weekend?”
“Can’t complain,” Krish said. “Took the girls to Alton Towers. Pia ate too much ice cream and threw up on the teacup ride.”
Martin tipped his head back and laughed. “Kids, eh?”
Krish gave him the “I know what you mean” nod and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
He couldn’t believe what he saw in there. The microwave was filthy yet again. Porridge everywhere. He took a pad of Post-it notes out of his pocket—he’d taken to carrying them around with him now—and grabbed the pen from the kitchen calendar. He made sure to disguise his writing. Once done, he slapped the Post-it on the door of the microwave. These people lived like pigs.
5
8:45 a.m
When Penny reached the door, she had rainwater dripping from her nose. She was out of breath and boiling hot beneath her coat. She rummaged through her bag. Pass. Pass. Where was her goddamn pass? Notebook. Wallet. Lunchbox. Book. No pass. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Then she knocked on the rectangle of wired glass next to the door handle.
Sue was the first to notice. Not much got past her. Penny waved. It was an apologetic wave accompanied by a shrug. Sue hoisted herself up from the chair and hobbled over as though she were ninety years old. Penny had to suppress an eye roll at how exaggerated the performance was. She knew the woman had bad knees, but this was ridiculous.
The door clunked open as Sue tapped her pass against the reader.
“Morning, love. Forgot your pass again?”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ll nip down to reception and get the spare later.”
“Hangover is it? Out drinking last night?”
Penny ducked down and headed towards her desk. “No, nothing like that. Just overslept.” She didn’t even drink, but because she was under twenty-five, Sue assumed every time she was late it was because of a hangover. It wasn’t.