Ten minutes later, Davey was still trying to make conversation with her when the phone rang. After a mumbled discussion he said awkwardly, ‘I have to go out for a while. You can answer the phone and make appointments. If anyone asks something, just say you’re a temp - that’s what Carol does. They’ll call back if they’re interested. ’

Donna fixed a large smile on her face and tried to look in control. She failed dismally. As she watched Davey drive off her heart sank.

The office was a pit. There were papers everywhere, folders full to overflowing on the chairs, on the floor, even under the desk. Letters were stuffed into drawers that no longer shut, they were so full up. Walking into the small kitchen area to wash up the cups, she shuddered. Tea bags were piled in the sink and on the draining board, old milk cartons lay scattered everywhere. The smell was ripe. Going back into the office she nearly cried. Then, taking off her jacket, she hung it on a hook on the door and rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. She gritted her teeth. Her natural tidiness coming to the fore, she began clearing up, starting with the kitchen.

Two hours later when Davey came back she was in the office. He walked through the door and nearly passed out.

‘What on earth are you doing?’

After taking four calls from people who demanded to speak to Davey and had put the phone down on her in mid-conversation, then experiencing the fright of her life when she touched an old black bag in the kitchen and saw it move of its own accord, courtesy of a maggot-ridden sandwich, she turned on Davey. With two high pink spots on her cheeks she snapped. ‘What the hell does it look like?’

Davey, taken aback at her sharp tone, said gently, ‘I know where everything is. Carol never touches anything, Donna. You should have left it.’

Near to tears and upset by his attitude she said, ‘This pile of letters here is for answering, this pile is for filing. These are bills - and incidentally they’re cutting the phone off tomorrow if that bill’s not paid. In the filing cabinet there are now files instead of old pizza boxes, and the notepaper and envelopes are all in this top drawer here. I found them under a pile of old brochures behind the door to the kitchen. Also, I have taken three appointments and actually put them in the diary. In addition I also took four calls from a man called Briggley, and I have ordered new binders and invoices from the wholesalers. On top of all that, I have cleaned out the kitchen, which was practically on the verge of being condemned by the health people. That, Davey, is what I have been doing. And, I might add, not before bloody time!’