As she pushed her chair under her desk, Piers approached.

‘Not in the mood,’ she said, holding up her hand. She didn’t have time for a run-in with him, she had to get back, didn’t want to be late for her mum.

‘Hey, I come in peace,’ said Piers.

Becky ignored him. Slung her backpack over her shoulder.

‘Seriously. I was going to offer you a lift.’ He held up his car keys, a large shiny BMW badge dangling from them. ‘It’s pouring down. You’re going to get drenched. Let me take you to the station.’

‘Are you having a laugh?’

He looked bemused. ‘Nope.’

Becky snapped. ‘You do whatever you can to find out about my story, stalk me, in fact, and then you grass me up to Terence, telling him I’ve been bunking off work.’

‘Ah, so that’s what this hostility is all about.’

Exasperated, Becky flashed him a look and started to walk off.

‘OK, guilty of first charge but definitely not the second. That wasn’t me.’ He put a hand on her arm. ‘Promise,’ he said, smiling at her.

She glared at him.

‘For what it’s worth, I told . . . the individual . . . to leave it be. I admired you ducking out of here. Stories are not going to come to us, are they?’

‘Who?’ she said suspiciously, not entirely believing him.

He said nothing, just kept smiling.

‘Who was it?’

He dropped his hand. ‘I’m not a grass.’

She rolled her eyes, amazed she’d almost fallen for it, and was about to walk off again when—

‘Come on, let me drive you. Peace offering. First of many. Let’s just say, I like you. That’s why I’ve been winding you up.’

‘Seriously. That’s your idea of flirting?’

‘Didn’t work?’ He smiled again, and Becky saw again how handsome he was. ‘OK, sorry. I know – as you have rightly pointed out – I’ve been a dick.’

She looked at him. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say his apology was genuine.

‘Go on, let me drive you. It would be nice to chat in the car. In fact, I was hoping . . . I’d love for the chance to take you out properly. Nice restaurant.’

‘You’re forgetting something. I’m not the one who fancies you.’

‘Ah, that. I’ve had a word with Darcy. Made it clear. Tactfully!’ he added quickly at the look on Becky’s face.

She said nothing, and he seemed to falter – but surely that wasn’t possible, thought Becky. This was arrogant, cool Piers.

‘Please? Becky?’

Becky! He’d called her Becky. She had to pick her chin up off the floor.

He held out a crooked arm. ‘So, will you?’

She almost went then, almost thought, sod it, the rain’s terrible. I could do with a lift.

‘I’ve got my bike.’

‘It’ll fit in the back. I’ve got an estate,’ he explained, ‘for the dogs.’ And she realized she knew nothing about him.

‘Dogs?’

‘Two. A working cocker and a lab.’