Humbug Read Free Page A

morning, the place was remarkably empty, pretty much deserted in fact. Half the team were on leave and the rest were finishing up a job in Liverpool. Christmas was a shitty time to make people redundant but, on the plus side, it gave management a buffer period over the festive holidays to regroup. I noticed only two people at their desks as I strolled in: Brian, who sat with headphones on, typing furiously, and Rob Paget, my pod neighbour. I hadn’t expected to see Rob this early. It wasn’t yet nine and he’d been late more often than not recently. Although he made up the time, it was something I’d been intending to take up with him.
    Despite being a couple of years older than me, Rob was junior to me in the team. I’d first come across him earlier in the year, working in the accounts department of a company Quicks had been appointed to downsize. I’d actually had to make him redundant—he’d been unlucky enough to be the accounts manager for the unprofitable division we were slashing. During our observation period, though, he’d impressed me with his encyclopaedic knowledge of the company’s procedures, processes and accounting functions, and I’d put in a word for him with Marley. Since we’d recently lost a couple of juniors, she’d agreed to interview him and had ended up offering him a trial position as a junior associate.
    Although it had been a bit of a step down for him, Rob had been grateful for the opportunity and, sure enough, he’d proven to be quick, smart and thorough, but his recent and persistent timekeeping issues bothered me.
    Rob looked up as I approached our pod. He leaned back in his chair, rolling his broad shoulders in a way that suggested he’d been hunched over the spreadsheet he was marking up for some time. He was, I thought grumpily, looking as stupidly handsome as ever.
    This morning he wore a form-fitting burgundy V-neck over an open-collared shirt. The fine knit of his sweater clung lovingly to his broad shoulders and lean torso, and his shiny chestnut hair flopped over his forehead in a curiously boyish way.
    It pissed me off, how attractive I found him.
    “Morning,” he said as I dumped my phone and headphones on my desk and switched on my computer.
    I hid my faint self-consciousness behind an indifferent expression and grunted at him, turning away to hang up my coat.
    “Good morning, Rob,” he said behind me in a singsong voice. “And how are you today? Any plans for Christmas or are you just staying at home?” A change of tone then, back to his own voice. “Oh, just at home with family thanks, Quin. You?”
    When I turned back to my desk, I sent him a dark glare. “I had a hellish night’s sleep last night and I’m bloody exhausted.” I dropped into my chair and tapped in my login details, adding with a yawn, “I won’t be up to conversation until I’ve had coffee.”
    Rob chuckled. “No doubt you’ve got Holly running around making you one as we speak.” He didn’t seem to expect an answer to that, just switched his attention back to his PC.
    That was another thing that annoyed me about him—the fact that he seemed to find the way I acted in the office so amusing. I’d started aping Marley’s demanding manner years ago, after noticing that the majority of people tended to rush to do whatever she asked, just to appease her. I found it worked surprisingly well, even when I was a junior associate. But Rob didn’t play along. He laughed at me when I behaved like that, and it fucked me off no end, even though I had to grudgingly respect him for it.
    I scowled at him, annoyed by his easy dismissal of my complaints. “I hope that’s the billing spreadsheet for Project Charlie you’re working on?” I said. “I’m going to need it this morning.” That wasn’t strictly true, but I took a perverse pleasure in asking him for something I knew he’d probably be unable to deliver.
    He looked up, his expression pleasant. “No, it’s not.” I felt a stab of