She tumbled off the sofa onto the floor with a thud, her hand flying to the back of her head to nurse the emerging lump. Both had, “I’m sorry,” on replay as they each tried to soothe the other, and soon they were doubled over in fits of laughter, Lucy gasping for air as she fanned her face with her free hand.

“Well,” said Will when he had enough breath to speak, “it is certainly never dull being with you.”

“Nor you,” she countered. “How is it that we seem unable to be in the same place at the same time without smacking each other about?”

“To be fair, this is only the second time that’s happened.”

She winced as she dragged herself back onto the sofa. Will was stretched out along its length and she perched on the edge next to him, lifting her hand to smooth his hair. “Are you really all right?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I will be. I just … I just need a minute.”

“Mmm, quite. Whisky?” she asked brightly. His body started to shake with laughter, which set her off again. Still giggling, she handed him his glass and he scooched up to a seated position. She took her own glass in hand and raised it. “I’d like to propose another toast,” she said in mock-seriousness. “To my sore head and your sore bollocks.” She purposefully tapped the edge of her glass against Will’s then downed the rest of her whisky in one go.

“Ahh,” she said, wiping the corners of her mouth with a fingertip. She glanced at Will who looked gobsmacked. “Bottoms up,” she said, like some maniacal Mary Poppins.

A slow smile spread over Will’s face as he regarded her. “You’re pretty fantastic, you know.”

“Oh, I do know, yes.” Lucy quite liked this version of herself—confident, daring, hilarious. She watched as Will tipped his head back and finished his whisky. “Another?”

“I’m good for now.”

“Still need a moment?” she eyed his crotch.

“Yes,” he said, shooing her away with a grin. “I need a minute.”

“Right, then I shall check my email!” She leapt up, crossing the room to where her coat hung by the door, and retrieved her phone. As Lucy had guessed, the email was a reply from Angela, and it didn’t take long to read. She’d barely written two lines.

Lucy,

Let’s meet first thing on your return. I’d like to discuss your future at the firm.

Regards,

Angela

“Oh, double bollocks.”

“What? Let me see it.”

Far less ebullient, Lucy walked back to the sofa and sat next to Will. She handed him the phone and watched him frown slightly as he it read through twice.

“It’s not necessarily bad. It could be, ‘hey, you’re a rising star and it was great to hear from you. I’m promoting you!’ Or something like that.”

Lucy, dubious, looked at Will. “Or it was, ‘Your email was completely out of line. Clear out your desk and off you go to Jobcentre Plus’.” Lucy held out her hand for the phone and Will laid it in her palm. She read the email again and frowned. Her mouth pursed in concentration and before she could talk herself out of it, she tapped out a reply.