I'd only known Rose for twenty-four hours, but I could already detect what year she was living in by the look on her face. She was purposeful but not frantic: eighty-two. She looked up from her desk, where she'd been drawing again: 'Did you get the page to Natalie?'
'She said to give you a hug.' I moved towards her, arms wide, not wanting to deliver said hug at all, but feeling it would be deceitful not to. Rose ended the awkwardness for me.
'A hug? Oh for fuck's sake.'
My arms slunk back torso-side. Phew.
Rose handed me the second envelope full of cash.
'Thanks for trying, Catherine.
'I shouldn't really take your money. She didn't understand your drawing.' But my hand was already extending itself ...
In two days, I'd have earned £1,500. I was beginning to love this job ... I'd walked into the shiteiest job in the universe; the one no fucker wanted to do; the one that required no skills, experience, qualifications, drive or vision and yet ...