Stevie opened her eyes to find Penny already awake and smiling, just as she had the morning before, but much closer. The younger woman lay in a warm embrace, her head pressed to her friend’s breast; there was something she very much wanted to say to her, but feared it might embarrass them both.

“How are you feeling honey?” Penny gently kissed the tip of the girl’s nose.

“I’m sorry for the things Mum called you.” Stevie spoke in a hoarse whisper, her voice raw from sobbing, “She didn’t mean it, she’s nice really.” Penny drew her nearer still, while softly murmuring reassurances; Stevie could not remember a time when she had felt safer, even though memories of her parents’ reaction kept flooding back.

They remained in each other’s arms until the alarm clock’s note became too persistent to ignore. After a moment’s bustling confusion Stevie ceded her guest the right to prepare breakfast, while she showered and scraped a razor over her chin - more from paranoia than necessity.

Penny pressed a scrap of kitchen towel to the source of the bleeding with one hand, while pushing a bowl of cereal across the table with the other. “I’m not that hungry, honestly.” Stevie’s words were somewhat muffled by the makeshift dressing, and dismissed peremptorily by the older woman who simply told her to tuck in while she visited the bathroom. It was only the speed of her companion’s departure that prevented Stevie from making the unforgiveable error of answering ‘yes Mum’.

Ms Hawker guided Brenda to a temporary halt before the building’s main entrance, waved to the ever alert security guard, and bundled her young charge from the car. “Be nice to Frank,” she called out before Stevie could slam the door closed, “he thinks the world of you.” She waited long enough to watch Stevie skip up the steps, where Frank had left his customary position to open the door for her, a singular honour for a very junior office junior. It was yet another example of how the young woman, could shake people from their comfortable routines, simply by demonstrating her complete lack of guile; Penny only hoped that it could survive whatever lay ahead.

“He’s very handsome Frank, you must be so proud of him.” Stevie handed the photograph back to the old soldier, who positively glowed with pride.

“Oh yes Miss, our family has served in the Royals since old Boney’s days, but Colin is the first of us to receive the Queen’s commission.” Frank carefully slipped the snap back into his pocket, and ever mindful of his wife’s wishes added, “he’s home on leave in a few weeks’ time Miss, I’m sure he’d like to meet you — that is if you’d like to.”

Any lingering thoughts about what had happened the last time she had ridden in the lift, quickly gave way to a suspicion that Frank’s intentions went beyond a father’s pride; had he just tried to set her up with his son?

Dismissing such a silly notion — what interest would Colin have in her — Stevie stepped into the already lighted eighth floor corridor. Someone had beaten her into work again, but unlike the previous morning there were no Goldilocks moments, as the earlier bird was seated at her desk.

“No biscuits this morning Tall Paul?” she asked curtly, savouring his rapid changes of expression, until they had almost settled on ‘plausible denial’, when she added the coup de grace, “or was one packet enough for ruining my life?”

“I never meant for it to go so far,” the young IT worker stammered, “I only showed it to one or two of the lads, they...” Stevie placed her hand on the desk, bending forward so that her face was no more than a few inches from his.

“Why?”

“After I found your blog I sent you an email — more than one actually — but you never answered; I thought you were being stuck up, and I was angry I suppose.” Had the Systems department had to follow the company dress code, he would no doubt have been loosening his tie, but had to content himself with puffing out his cheeks.

Stevie scrupulously replied to all the emails she received, with one exception; that insight explained the search that had brought him to her blog. “You attached a photograph didn’t you?” Tall Paul nodded dumbly, unable to meet her eyes; his obvious discomfort did not prevent her from pursuing a confession, “and that photograph was not of your face was it?”

“I thought that was what you wanted, that it was why you made the blog.” He tried to shrink back in the chair, but Stevie leant further forward, maintaining the short gap between their faces.

“Did you not think I knew what a penis looked like?” Stevie struggled to prevent her temper boiling over. “Or is your erection so impressive you expected me to swoon, and invite you over for sex?”

“You looked so fit, I just thought...”

“You just thought I was a sissy bimbo desperate for a good seeing to.” Stevie straightened up, and looked down her nose at the rather pathetic young man; she had never felt so in control of any situation before. “So you thought you’d have a go in person? I should report you to HR.”

“No honestly, I want to help out with your blog, I have some ideas.” Stevie blinked in disbelief, he was almost pleading with her. Intrigued, she perched on a corner of the desk, much as Penny did, and asked him to go on. “Well, you could have video segments, a podcast even; there are loads of things I can do to help, like...”

”I’ll mention it to Ms Hawker. You’d better go; I’ve things to do before anyone else gets in.” Stevie rewarded him a smile, which she hoped was not obviously sinister and a quick flash of thigh as she stood up. “Hey, I should be thanking you; this has been the best week of my life.” She very gently caught Paul’s arm when he walked past, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, that left him stumbling towards the door. If only her parents were as easy to persuade.