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matching. Then Gloria pulled out a red evening gown, strapless with a fitted bodice and the skirt floaty and feminine, and told me I had to try it. I objected; redheads shouldn’t wear red, but they challenged me to come back next week on my break.
    At noon I finished up and went for lunch as I was to be in home wares at one p.m. There were quite a few people there as lunchtime was staggered to keep the store open. I saw Michael sitting by himself and was astounded when he invited me to join him by indicating the free chair opposite him.
    “Hi,” I said, smiling warily.
    “Hi, are you ok after the fall, any bruises?”
    “Ach, there’s not a bother on me, don’t worry. How was men’s wear?”
    “To be honest, it’s been boring, we’ve had only one customer all morning. I’m in home wares this afternoon. Maybe that will be better.”
    “Oh, me too,” I said, “but I’m sorry to leave ladies’ fashions. I really liked the two women.”
    Very soon he reminded me it was time for house wares. It was only ten to one, for pity’s sake, and we didn’t have to cross the city… To my surprise, he waited for me to finish my food, even though he was watching the clock as each minute crawled by. Christ on a bike! He really needed a week in Ireland to learn how to chill.
    That afternoon I got to study him properly at work. The first thing I noticed was how many questions he asked. I knew that as head of buying, he had to be familiar with all of the products, but holy hell, he was obsessive—it was only a job at the end of the day. I finally realised the long hours he put in were because he was ambitious, and maybe, dare I say it, a little insecure of his brilliance.
    The other thing I noticed was that he was always watching me. As usual, my natural defiance kicked into touch. I assumed I was offending him in some way, be it my unkempt appearance or my unpolished Irish manner. I wasn’t a bit sorry when five p.m. rolled around. I wanted to get away from his cool and, no doubt, unflattering attention.
    I was glad to have survived my second week. My misgivings about James now seemed to be unfounded. Apart from his test on Monday, we had barely crossed paths and when we did his behaviour was never inappropriate, slightly over-friendly perhaps, like an exuberant Labrador, but I had soon learned that he was like that with others, men and women. I happily picked up my bag and headed for the tube and the weekend.
    Early on Saturday morning the doorbell rang and Tara answered it. She came in holding a bouquet of flowers.
    “Whose heart did you break this time?” I asked, laughing. This was a fairly frequent occurrence.
    “They’re for you, Shiv.”
    “Cop on to yourself, who’d send me flowers?”
    “D’you want me to read this and find out?” she teased, waving the card. After a bit of a scuffle, she finally handed it over.
    “Sorry, hope you’re ok, Michael.”
    I was spitting mad. Where did he get my address? My phone number I would have understood, it was on an emergency contact list, but my address should have been private. Myra? James? I couldn’t tell. The one thing I was sure of was that Michael Henrii was becoming a major source of irritation in my life.

Chapter Three
     
     
    Monday was a bit awkward. I spent the day looking around corners, trying to dodge Michael. I was way too mad to confront him. Luckily I was up to my tonsils in work, too busy to stop for lunch or indeed keep my appointment with Kate and Gloria. On Tuesday I came out of my office and met him head on. I’d calmed down enough not to have a hissy fit, but I almost choked as I thanked him for the flowers. He’d become a dangerous obsession; I thought about him as I woke up and as I went to bed and several times in between. In truth I was even dreaming about him. I still told myself that it was because he bugged me. But I couldn’t really define it, it was like a morbid fascination; he drew me and repulsed me in almost equal measure.
    I