Touched - By Malcolm Havard Page 0,4

didn't feel natural.

He never seemed to really get to know anyone any more, never got to see their real selves. Perhaps it was just London, that everyone needed the barriers to survive, a shell to hide behind. But did it work? Did it ward off the crazys on the tube? Did it really close your eyes and ears to the down and outs begging for change, the drugged up, spaced out, emaciated kids of both sexes selling their bodies to pay for the next hit? If you had even a gram of sympathy, the smallest of hearts, those sounds and images always got through.

He tried to tell himself to stop brooding; that this was just going to make him feel even worse but it was hard to stop. He read his messages as he got into the lift. There was nothing pressing, just a few surveyors from other firms wanting information and one from a bank querying something in a valuation.

In the office he met Sophie, the graduate trainee, heading for the kitchen holding a couple of mugs.

‘Morning,’ she said, with a bright, friendly smile. ‘I'm on the morning coffee run. Want one?’

‘Urgently,’ he said, ‘Strong, black please.’

‘I’d guessed. I think I know what you like by now!’

She diverted to his desk and picked up his mug, looking dubiously into it.

‘Don’t worry, it adds to the taste,’ he said, reading her mind.

She pulled a face but headed for the kitchen. ‘Your funeral,’ she said in passing.

Dan sat down at his desk and switched on his PC. Under the cover of a yawn he checked around the office, then opened his desk drawer and took out the files he had left there on Friday night.

‘Naughty, naughty,’ said Marcus from the desk opposite, his eyebrows raised in amusement. ‘If our American lords and masters find out how you flout their nightly cleared desk policy…’

‘My desk is clear. Well the desktop is. Anyway who’s to know? You using Circle today?’

‘Keep up with the times, old boy, it’s been Argus for years. I’ll need it for an hour or so.’

‘Ok let me know when you’re out. It’s too much to ask for Peter to get us another licence I suppose?’

‘Not at seven grand a pop no. Not in this market.’

Dan nodded as Sophie arrived with the coffees. ‘There you go,’ she said.

‘You’re a life saver, Soph.’

‘No problem. And remember it’s your turn next.’

It was a standing joke; Dan never made the coffee.

Sophie sat down at her desk, a slight frown on her face. Dan guessed what was coming.

‘How are things at home? Has she seen sense yet?’

Dan sighed. ‘The divorce papers were waiting for me when I got back last night.’

‘Ah mate, sorry,’ said Marcus, ‘I really thought you and Alice were pretty solid. I didn’t think she’d do that.’

‘Neither did I, believe me.’

‘You still in those digs?’

‘Yeah, Alice has the flat.’

‘That doesn’t seem right. You should stand up for yourself,’ said Sophie.

‘Her parents paid the deposit…look can we just leave it?’

He realised that he had raised his voice more than he had intended, in fact he had almost snapped at them. It wasn't him to lose control, to lose his temper and, by the look on their faces, it had surprised them too. He had a reputation of being easy-going, even-tempered, slightly bumbling even. He was shocked at how short-tempered he had got; the stress must really be getting to him.

'Sorry,' he said, embarrassed. 'Didn't mean to bit your heads off.'

They said it was OK but Sophie and Marcus exchanged glances. Dan guessed they had been talking about him. He wasn’t sure he liked being the current water-cooler topic. He opened one of the files, tried to give off the message that he was concentrating, that he did not want disturbing. Talking about Alice and her man, the lawyer, the partner in the top commercial firm, the one she had had an affair with, the one she was pregnant by, was just too sensitive.

But then Peter, his department head removed the need for cover by walking into the office and straight over to Dan.

‘Dan – morning. Could I have a quick word please. In my office?’

Peter made no eye contact with anyone else, he just turned and walked back into his glass bubble in the corner. That, in itself was unusual; Peter always made an effort to ingratiate himself with his team, even if his attempts were often weak and forced; at least he tried.

The three looked at each other in silence for