‘Is everything alright, Brian?’ I say, glancing around to see if I can spot Turner. Apart from the usual early birds drinking beer and ignoring one another at the bar, I can’t see anyone who shouldn’t be here.

‘Yes.’ He’s still not making eye contact.

‘Brian, what’s going on?’

Before he has a chance to answer, I hear Mattie’s wheelchair behind me.

‘Rebecca.’

‘Yes?’

Mattie looks serious. ‘Can I have a word?’

‘Sure,’ I say, glancing over at Brian, but by now he has turned his back.

Mattie doesn’t say anything on the way to his office. His silence is unnerving. Inside, he rolls in behind the desk near the back wall and tucks himself in close. Should I take a seat or stay standing? Mattie is giving no instructions. Why is he being so quiet?

‘Rebecca,’ he finally says, in a low deep tone that leads me to believe this is not a prelude to good news. Leaning back into the chair, he taps the top of the table. ‘We have a problem.’

‘A problem?’

‘Some bottles have gone missing from the cellar.’

My thoughts freeze. I feel like I’m going to puke. My eyes are locked on his as I pray for someone to beam me up out of here, for the ground to open and swallow me, for the building to blow up.

‘Do you know anything about that?’

What will I do? Lie, Becca, lie. Don’t lie, Becca, don’t lie.

‘No,’ I lie.

‘Are you sure?’ he says.

The room seems to be shrinking. I don’t know what I should do. What if someone saw me? But no one saw me, they couldn’t have. Mattie is probably questioning everyone. I guess that’s why Brian practically ignored me, he was probably questioned too. If I admit to this, I’m out of here. I’ll have to take my chances.

‘Yes, I’m sure, Mattie. I wouldn’t dream of taking them. Maybe they were broken or misplaced or something?’

I sound stupid. Which is how I always sound when I’m trying to deny something I’ve done, rambling on with a big guilty sign flashing across my forehead. Shut up, Becca.

Mattie turns his attention to the Mac on his desk.

‘It seems the CCTV says different,’ he says, clicking open a file on the screen. Blood rushes to my head. I try to stay standing but I’m drowning here, drowning in my own thoughtless actions.

‘Mattie, I’m sorry, so sorry. I don’t know what I was doing. I thought maybe they were left over and going to be thrown out. I was going to tell you to take the money from my wages but I forgot and…’

There is no point adding a verse to this crazy song. I’m fucked.

‘Please don’t sack me, Mattie. I need this job. I swear I will never take anything again.’