“Hey, Tommy.” I stand politely as he reaches the table hand outstretched, but he goes in for the cheek kiss. I laugh it off and mumble, “Nice to meet you, in person.” He nods and does a full 360 of the bar, catches the barman’s eye, and nods to the remnants of the drink in front of me. “I am sorry, but you are over forty-five minutes late, so I have had a few drinks.” I hate that I have justified myself. He scrunches his...

It’s a murky Thursday evening and the rain is illuminated by distant flashes of lightning as it smatters against the darkness of the wall of windows enclosing the fourth-floor offices. Nadine has planned to leave at least three times, but each time, there is another buzz from Brian Locke, to ask her, “Just one more thing.” Her phone buzzes with a text: Not going to make it tonight – hate to sound punny – but can we have a...

I don’t normally take the bus, I used to think public transport was purely for the great unwashed, and perhaps I still think that. But beggars can’t be choosers, so I get the bus, among the great unwashed. The rain is pelting against the windows, and even though its early afternoon, the sky is ominous. The seats are cheap plastic, look-a-like leather, and my skirt has risen and now my arse is stuck to the filthy surface b...