Since my conversation with Oscar, my mood has shifted between rage and bouts of self-doubt.

As soon as I am seated at my desk, an email appears on-screen from Si. Pausing for a second, I click on it.

Is everything OK?

When I glance sidelong towards where his head pokes up above his monitor, his eyes stay fixed to the screen, as if I am not sitting just a few feet away from him.

Ignoring the message, I carry on opening the document I’d been about to start work on and less than a minute later another message appears, this time accompanied by a pointed sigh from his side of the room.

Don’t ignore me. Fancy lunch?

I type without looking away from my screen.

I can’t.

Moments later I hear him thumping the keys with his fingers.

I just thought you might …

Christ, can he not leave it alone? Bloody hell, Si, take a hint. I should never have started sleeping with him. Now was not the time to become entwined with anyone, let alone a colleague.

Distraction comes in the form of the front door to the office slamming. From the nervous cough that followed from the other room, it is clear Elaine has returned from her break. Standing and walking quickly towards the internal door, I step into reception.

‘Hi, Isobel,’ she says without looking up.

‘Hi. I was just wondering, do you remember yesterday afternoon, someone delivered something for me?’

Elaine adopts the look of someone thinking hard, eyes pointing to the right, lips pursed at an angle.

‘Oh yes,’ she says, after a moment.

I feel my chest lift. ‘Brilliant. Can you tell me who sent it?’

She flicks through a notebook.

‘Here it is. It was a courier …’

‘Can I see?’

When I look at the paper, there is a signature, illegible. Next to it, where the company name should be, the box is left blank.

‘Oh sorry,’ she says, tutting to herself. ‘I asked him to fill it in but he was in a terrible rush – you know what they’re like – and I didn’t check that he had.’

‘What did he look like?’

She raises her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know … Young, wearing a tracksuit, maybe. He had a motorbike helmet. I wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest, love. A courier’s a courier. He wasn’t one of our usual ones, though, now that I think about him. I didn’t recognise him.’

‘Is there CCTV in here?’

‘CCTV? No, love. Why would—’

‘Shit,’ I say, slapping my hand against the desk, and Elaine looks up.

‘What’s the matter? Did you want it sending back?’

I stare at her for a moment, the urge to scream almost overwhelming. But instead I turn and return to my desk.