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She came into his office, closing the door behind her, shortly after six thirty. "They've gone at last," she said. "Couldn't make the petty cash balance in the post room - not for the first time. But it's done now and everyone's gone."

Without looking up from his computer screen, he asked, "Roberts?"

"He's brought the car up from the garage and parked it in the usual place."

"No questions?"

"No. Why should there be? Roberts knows as well as anyone that the first and third Fridays are always A and P days. And all Audit and Planning means to him is that you drive yourself home and he gets away early."

When he didn't comment she asked, "Do you want to see?"

He continued to scroll through columns of figures on the screen on his desk. It was part of the ritual. When he was ready he would look up to examine the woman standing in front of him: thirty-five, slim, expensively dressed as befitted the MD's personal assistant, black suit, navy blouse with a white bow to soften the severity, skirt to the knee not quite concealing good legs. Regular visits to the gym kept her in good shape. ...

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