Noel and Steve stood in front of me slightly, waiting for a sign. I made to move forward and they lead the way into the hallway. I could hear a security camera focus in upon something. I couldn�t see where it was in the reception area, but I knew somewhere, someone was looking at my image on a grainy black and white monitor inside this building.

Steve opened the frosted pane glass door and went inside. Noel came next. A couple of seconds I followed. I was nervous. It was about this moment I realised that I was to enter one of those moments that defines your life. A turning point you could say. My actions now would define the immediate future of the next few months, possibly even the next few years. My heart was beating faster and I was trying to get the butterflies in my stomach to fly in the formation.

I was on show. I was at one of those moments where I had to get it right. No problem.

Behind a wood panelled desk, in a room that positively dripped with money, sat a brunette secretary in a red, warm jacket and shirt. Her hair was evenly spread one either side of her hair in an expensive-looking bob. Her eyes shined with privilege and a form of rich, deep rug sensuality that I�m sure contributed to her employment.

She looked up and faux-gasped. A phone call had been made, and she wasn�t supposed to let anyone know that she knew.

�Can I help you?� she pronounced.

I stepped forward and Noel and Steve remained flanking me, to either side, now behind me, nervous and yet impassive. I glanced around and caught the sight of her ID card pinned to her lapel.

Smiling, I spoke richly : �Yes Rebecca. My name is Adam Versity and I have come to see Helen.�

Her face remained nervously impassive, much like everyone else, even mine. But with the involuntary look of knowing surprise the balance had tipped slightly in my favour. They knew I was here, and I�m sure - unless Helen has changed in the past six years which is unlikely - that someone is planning something. Even in the chaos, the crap and detritus that we call our lives remained.

At the same time I thought how ridiculously easy it would be to seduce her. Her face had tilted to one side, submissively, like an animal that knows its beaten. Fairly soon she would be my secretary, and I�m fairly sure I could lay title to her.

�There is no appointment for you this morning. Shall I arrange one?�

To be fair to her, she was doing a good job of maintaining appearances. I was impressed. I knew Helen was in. I could feel her presence.

�No thank you Rebecca. An appointment is not necessary. Is she in her office?�

It was a question I already knew the answer to. Sometimes you have to ask questions when you know the answers to them - you need to know if someone will tell you the truth.

She didn�t say anything, which was a way of saying something. Instead of lying, she just chose not to answer, which is an answer in itself. I was aware of being watched.

�Hello Helen.� I said not bothering to turn around.

�What the hell are you doing here?� She asked. Rebecca looked up. I could hear footsteps behind me.

�Still wearing heels are you? I thought you might have grown beyond that by now.�

If she looked much like she did the last time I saw her, in the back page of a trade magazine, the hair would be shorter, the face harder, the skin would have more wrinkles. The penchant for soft blues would be replaced by harsher darker colours, plain white blouses. These days she looked more like someone who you could find attractive, in a harsher, brutal, way. These days she looked less like someone who thought about what she could give, and more like someone who thought about what she could take instead. Age does that to everyone. When I met her she was soft and giving, and when there was nothing more to give then she started to take instead. Cruelty replaced beauty.

�Now Now Adam. You don�t belong here. Not anymore. If that is you. �

She was walking closer to me. Steve and Noel panned out, away. Rebecca stood still, scared, looking at some point vaguely behind me. I knew where my wife was standing. She had come out of a side door from her office. Hoping to catch me off guard. It hadn�t worked.

Her voice had got sharper, older in the past few years. I imagine that her young executive lover, fawning over her like a hungry man over a fresh carcass, trying to insert himself, into my fortune, would find that hint of experience thrilling. But to me, she sounded dead. Whoever she was when I met her was gone, slowly replaced by the gradual process of changing minds, compromises, business rationale, whilst pretending to stay true to the original soul. It happens so slowly, over a process of years, that you don�t even notice it happening. If you see someone everyday, the process is so slow, a fleck of hair there, a wrinkle here, that it is unnoticeable.

�Well, flowerpot,� I said �I�ve changed. I�m a different man. A Better man. You�ve changed too and it isn�t for the better is it? �

Her voice trembled. Her hackles had raised. Nobody knew I called her flowerpot. It was our little bedtime secret - our secret codeword. She said it used to give her tingles, when I first met her, over covert drinks in the refectory. Strictly speaking, we shouldn�t have worried, but she was dating my lecturer at the time and I think that might have affected my grades if we hadn�t been so discreet. It was difficult. When we were younger, and the world was simpler and slower.

�How dare you to talk to me like that! You don�t work here anymore. Gentleman, escort this intruder out of the building now.�

I span on my heels. Turned around. God, she looked old. All those years must have taken their toll on her. She looked as bad as I feared. Age was creased into her skin. She lost some weight too. I stared at her.

�Helen dear, shut up.�

For once, she was speechless. For years I had sat down and taken her abuse. Her affairs. Her misbehaviour. I thought if you gave someone enough rope� and she hung herself with it. She was shocked. Her mouth opened, but she said nothing.

�May I remind you that I have only been missing six and a half years? I am not legally dead. So please, don�t rush things. I haven�t resigned and it is impossible to fire me. I work here. I am still Chief Executive and Managing Director. You are merely Acting CEO in my absence. Now what the hell are you doing in my office?�

My voice was clear, precise. Well rehearsed in fact. I�d been thinking this through, analysing all the potential outcomes, all the responses she might give. As anticipated she went down the old route of fury, reason, and shock. Some things, some people, never change, no matter what changes around them.

Her face turned to rage. Every muscle contorted into anger. Rebecca I could feel shrank into her chair. I�d waited a long time for this, it could only get worse.

�I�m not going to roll over and play dead for you. I�ve worked six and a half -�

I sighed and looked away. Noel and Steve trembled in fear. I cut her off and spoke loudly and clearly.

�Helen Versity, I, Adam Versity, as Chief Executive of Globex, am hereby terminating your employment as Acting Chief Executive. You are entitled to the benefits of the termination package as agreed on your employment contract. You are not required to work your notice period. You may leave the office within the next thirty minutes. Any longer than that period will result in you being escorted off the premises.�

She shut up. She favoured a harsh employment contract to get rid of those she found troublesome to her - a hefty payoff but a quick dismissal with no legal grounds to stand on. She never thought the legislation she had built into contracts to make her life easy to gain complete control would ever come back to haunt her. In her haste to introduce such legislation she failed to realise that the catch all phrase �all employees� meant all employees, including her.

�Do I make myself clear?�

The air crackled with electricity. Soon I would talk to Rebecca and establish a quick block on any emails and phone calls coming from her account. It would take about a minute to achieve I estimated.

�You won�t get away with this you fucker.� She threatened.

�I just did.�

It was the talk of the office - our company, one which had strove to remain, almost anonymous, a highly influential, but ultimately unaccountable, secret power, had become front page news. The picture was everywhere, of him, HIM, striding forcefully out of the building yesterday. It was one of those images that defined a year, a month, a generation. Come the end of year reviews, the picture would be there.

He still came in through the main entrance, like a regular employee, every day. Every day the entrance was barricaded with representatives of the media, BBC, ITV, CNN, ANN, probably the KGB, all seeking a comment from him, brushed off in his unique style. He was like a politician, except he had no election, no visible agenda, excepting he wanted to return, to show he was back.

There was an electricity in the office. Word was, major changes were afoot. The air was charged, it moved differently around the building. The hum of power was seeping down from his office. It was as if someone had turned the frequency up.

My PC beeped, distracting me. A small box had come up on screen.

�New mail has arrived. Read it now? Yes/No.� came up.

Another fucking interruption as if I haven�t got enough on my plate. Now, of all times, at the crisis point, I should be left alone to achieve my strategy. Carol�s probably already got her negotiation strategy planned with her prepared parameters of flexibility. I can�t even get enough peace to work out what I�m going to be doing.

I absentmindedly clicked �Yes�.

Oh bloody fuck.

"From: [email protected] To: [email protected]

John,

Please excuse the impersonal tone of this mail. You can understand I have a lot of work on at the moment. You are required in my office at 10.15 on Tuesday the 15th. Block out two hours for this meeting. Attendance is mandatory. I look forward to seeing you then.

Cheers,

A"