The Best Policy
HANNAH kicked the bottom of the locked office door inside the deserted estate agency. Despicable woman, she thought. How she got the manager’s job was beyond her.
She flicked a switch on the wall then returned to her desk with her lips pursed. Neon lights flickered into life. She prodded Enter on her keyboard and glared at the picture of a suburban semi on the screen.
The old witch could threaten her with being sacked as much she liked but there was no way she’d give in. Especially to the trumped-up charge of . . .
“Good evening.”
Hannah jumped and swivelled round. A slim, grey-haired lady had come in out of the warm spring evening. For a second, she thought it was her gran.
“Can I help you?”
“No, but thanks for asking,” the woman said. She closed the door behind
