’ ‘That’s better. Now that you have seen and heard from this arrogant young chap Amy, are you prepared to work in tandem with him?’ ‘Yes Uncle Toby. He has the potential to succeed with me.’ The two males stared at seemingly meek Amy. ‘I’ll get her motor going and then there will be no holding her back Mr Bassett. Then I’d expect a fat bonus to come my way.’ ‘Back to your desk Boone and work hard and the only thing fat around here is your smart alec lip.’ ‘Whatever you say sir. Until tomorrow then Amy. For god sake wear a shorter dress and lipstick.’ ‘Boone!’ The shout rattled the flyspecked window that gave a dreary view out to a moss encrusted brick wall of the pressroom. Boone left the room hastily, taking care not to slam the door. This relationship between Boone and his editor would have appeared strange to Amy if she’d been aware the relationship socially was very friendly with her uncle calling Boone Harry and Boone calling his editor Toby. Everyone in the long newsroom looked. But it seemed that nothing was happening, so, after the library closed for the day, she bought a microwave meal from the shop on the corner and made her way back to the house where she rented the spare room. There was no sign of Simon when she got in, and she assumed he must be up in his room, the one next to hers, perhaps busy with one of his computer games. Determined not to let a bad day become a bad evening, she headed to the bathroom for a shower that she hoped would invigorate mind and body. Body. The very word made her sick in her stomach. She avoided looking at her reflection as she discarded her work clothes and hung them on the doorknob and tied her shoulder length ginger curls back into an untidy bun. She could barely make eye contact with herself, let alone gaze upon the hills and valleys of her voluptuous, alabaster-white nude body in the bathroom mirror. The hot water felt good. Standing in the bath beneath the streaming, steaming shower head, she instinctively arched.
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