Being Shirley by Michelle Vernal Read Free Book Online Page B

but she resisted the urge. She knew from past experience that a good boot would only make him more restless. Instead, she counted sheep.

 
     
Chapter Four
     
     
    Annie caught a glimpse of her hair in the reflection off the big glass doors of the Albrect Building where she worked in Victoria Street, and immediately wished that she hadn’t. Her mass of curls had, in the twenty minutes it had taken her to get to work, escaped Houdini-style from the bun she had secured them into. Instead of the efficient PA to up-and-coming advertising guru and extremely horrible boss, Adelia Hunnington, she had portrayed upon leaving the house that morning, she now looked like a madwoman. The toothpaste on the spot had not been a good idea, either, as she now had an angry red pimple on her chin that was also surrounded by flaky skin. Suffice to say, it was not shaping up to be a good hair or face day, which from prior experience Annie knew did not bode well for her general working day. Bloody Tony and his snoring! She sent him a mean telepathic message.
    His grunting like a stuck pig had been the root cause of her tossing and turning most of the night and she needed her sleep. Not just for beauty purposes, either, although the fact she’d aged ten years in the last six months was down to Attila and her workaholic tendencies. She’d had her working through half her lunch break most days and always managed to pop out and waved some urgent document that had to go out that night just as Annie put her coat on to go home. She sighed at the injustice of it all and she had finally drifted off into a deep sleep just as Tony got up at his usual ungodly time of six o’clock, which meant she’d ignored her alarm for a good twenty-five minutes when it had shrilled an hour later.
    She glanced at the stairwell and momentarily contemplated taking the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor offices where she had spent the last few years of her life in full-time employment. It would be good exercise and her skirt did feel on the snug side today but oh sod it, she decided and headed for the lift instead. She wasn’t that keen on the stairs since the earthquakes; actually, she wasn’t that keen on the lifts either. It was a bit of a problem really. Half a second later, she wished she had opted for the stairs, though, as a familiar nasal voice sounded behind her.
    “Morning, Annie. You’re looking lovely as always.”
    He could only see her rear view, so Annie could only assume that Pervy Justin from the accounting firm on the floor above hers was in fact referring to her bottom. She ignored him and stepped into the lift. He wasn’t deterred by her silence.
    “It’s going to be a cold day out there if that frost this morning was anything to go by. Brrr.” He shivered for effect and rubbed the tops of his arms. “You probably should have put a warmer top on.” He felt his way around until he hit the number five button. His eyes never once strayed from the thin fabric of her blouse.
    Annie sighed and pulled her jacket closed. She really should lodge a complaint with someone about him but that would take energy and lately all her energy reserves had been zapped. It was the same every year: the emotional build-up followed by the exhausted aftermath of Roz’s birthday. It wasn’t as though she was consciously thinking about her sister during this time. She was just there—a constant on the periphery of her mind. She took a step back from Justin so she was pressed up against the railing and silently willed the numbers to hurry up.
    Tammy on reception didn’t look up from her iPhone as Annie called out a cheery good morning to her. The greeting was not given because she meant it—Tammy was an uppity little madam whose main focus in life was the electronic gadget currently in her hand. No, it was given automatically, done out of habit. The receptionist mumbled the same token pleasantry back, not bothering to peek out from behind her waves of brown