It was a bit early in the day for a good stiff drink, and anyway, I still had to go back to work this afternoon.

There was nothing for it; I pulled out my cellphone and texted Maggie: Meet at the Good Oil in 10 for lunch? I was one of those strange creatures that couldn’t bear to disembowel words in text messages. It was full spelling, grammar and punctuation for me. Maggie’s reaction to my long-winded missives involved the words ‘anal’ and ‘retentive’. She had no such qualms, as indicated by her rapid-response reply: (-:

Twenty minutes later and I had my laughing gear wrapped around a bagel filled with roast lamb and token green stuff. Maggie had gone for the more civilised smoked-salmon option. We both had our standard flat white, except I adulterated mine with sugar; she didn’t. There was an enormous slice of raspberry and coconut cake in the middle, with two forks, and yoghurt rather than cream – our nod to healthy eating.

‘You know,’ Maggie said, around a mouthful. ‘You could go for harassment, if he continues to pick on you like that.’

‘Yeah, right. He’d deny it for a start, and probably chip in that it was all my doing and that I was incompetent. He acts like he’s God, and knows it all. Just because he’s got a flash paper degree and they’ve given him some rank, he seems to think he can ride roughshod over everyone.’

‘Smithy and your workmates would back you up though?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. I get the feeling it would be like career suicide to stand up and take him on. No one’s ever done it before, and it sounds like there have been plenty of officers who have experienced his special brand of attention. They’re all scared of him.’

‘The class bully?’

‘The class bully,’ I agreed. ‘But with the strategic advantage of being the boss.’

‘Bugger. There’s no easy answer, then.’

‘No, I just have to grin and bear it.’

‘That’s just so wrong.’

‘Yup.’

Maggie dealt with another mouthful of cake and then pointed the fork in my direction. ‘Tell you something: the Sam I know wouldn’t take that kind of crap from anybody.’

I smiled. ‘That’s true, but this Sam is feeling a bit ground down by it all.’

‘That’s never held you back before. You’ve always been the champion of the downtrodden, the fighter for justice. That’s why you joined the police in the first place. Don’t you think it’s time you championed yourself?’

She had a point.

‘Are you saying I should push back?’

‘Someone’s got to. What have you got to lose?’