All this happening now, it doesn't begin here.

"She'd said that he knew how to speak German. Though quite how you could learn German from watching blue movies was a little vague. It raised impossible questions as to how articulate German porn had apparently become"

Anne Marie had managed to enthral Mr Jones from her arrival, though I was never clear as to who had initiated what. In any case, it had become apparent afterwards that in all likelihood he'd only gone where everyone else had been before. Though it took a while before it was clear that Miss Marie was not going to be content with settling for those departing the company.

Idle gossip had become a sober debate. There were many questions to ask about how well timed such infidelities actually were. Hadn't he just bought a house with a long term girlfriend? Furthermore, who exactly was this German speaking boyfriend of hers? There was something wrong about it. The reckless abandon as morality retreated from where ever it had ended up.

James had left, and it was quiet. A distant tranquillity punctuated badly by occasional conversation. What had gone on in the other room of that scouse travelodge? Did the opinions of Wolverhampton drillers have any bearing on your own? What was the motive for this behaviour? Was this happening again? Surely not...

I wasn't going to mention anything. I was going to concentrate on driving the Transit. It wasn't my business anyway. Phil had mentioned it, and I hadn't been surprised that someone else had noticed. Though why he was doing it defied reason itself. A wife and a young child. What had he been thinking? What had she been thinking? Was anyone thinking at all? Had morality had been retreating faster than the eastern front?

So I'd stopped away from the socials, because they might have been too much. Birthday celebrations with your nearest and dearest welcome. When the drinks came out, there was that unsettling possibility that you wouldn't keep your mouth shut. Judging from previous experience, this was more likely at anything related to work.

From what I heard afterwards, it sounded like I'd done the right thing.

I'd guessed what was coming next. William had even gone as far to hint at it on his own accord. Back in the van, I'd already made my point to Phil. That she wouldn't get me. Not least for her unpalatable combination of excessive make up, self professed dirtiness and a latex allergy. The last two sounded like an accident waiting to happen.

What had Anne been doing at the natural history museum anyway? Looking at rocks didn't seem particularly in character. Especially for someone who'd admitted turning down a log cabin holiday in the Scottish wilderness. Wholly because of the absence of her favourite television programmes.

All this happening now, it doesn't begin here. Those casual offers to cut my hair and fill my teeth were the last things I would have been expecting. Would she offer to scrub my toilet if it came up in passing conversation? Fundamentally, would you trust her to do any of those things?