Ian was in a foul mood.
He had sent some of his most precious ties to the dry cleaners and they have come back ruined. “My favourite Star Wars tie looks like it has been through a bleeding mangle. Bastards. I’m going to write to them. I’m going to give them a piece of my mind.”
He spent the afternoon composing a letter. “I’m going to drag them over the coals for this. They’ve met their match this time. I’ve worked in customer service for ten years, and you can’t kid a kidder.” The desk seemed to rattle through the office as he got more and more passionate, “I’ve turned a blind eye for too long. I want compensation.”
At lunch time, I finally plucked up some courage to ask Janice about the Away Day and my role in the debauchery. “It was quite boring actually. Ian did his usual air guitar and you fell asleep in a corner dribbling and groaning.”
That’s a relief.
“Bernard did a fireman’s lift into your room. He dropped you twice – on your head – you should put a claim in.” She said.
Call off the search. There’s no scandal. I went to my desk ready to compose my first ever entry in the Accident Book.