‘I like it slightly warm, but not hot, y’know?’
‘Don’t they say chilled water is bad for you?’
I’m a hair’s breadth away from banging my head against the wall, or throwing myself out the window (we’re on the fifth floor).
Gus walks by en route to the kitchen. He’s the current favourite, having smiled at me for no reason when I passed his desk earlier that morning. He has a lovely smile.
‘Tea, coffee anyone?’ I say, rising.
My colleagues look surprised.
‘Ooh yes… please could I have some hot water?’
‘Hot water pleeeease!’
Gus moves aside so I can get to the boiling water tap. I start filling mugs.
‘Oops.’ I frown at the third cup. ‘It should’ve been cold. Do you think she’ll notice?’
He laughs. ‘You could put it in the fridge to chill.’
‘That would be efficient!’ I say, also laughing. ‘When I see cups of water in there, I’ll know who it is!’
I find a glass.
‘Nah, I’d better…’
I fill it with chilled water, which may or may not be bad for you. Grinning, a mug in each hand, I go back to my desk.