Wendall closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. The anger gave way to resignation, just as it always did.

"It's alright. I know it wasn't your fault. I showed up to work drunk out of my mind. When you called me into your office I hardly thought I was going to be winning employee of the month. Is everything alright over there? God, there weren't any visitors were there?"

“No! Nothing like that."

Wendall and Vernon had been department heads of a privately funded charitable organisation. Visitors usually meant donors, and he doubted seeing him stumbling through the halls would have been taken as a sign of confidence.

“Good. That's a mercy then," said Wendall.

“Look, Vernon, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I felt like such an idiot after it happened and what with everything else..."

“Don't be silly! I wouldn't have fired you if I was the one in charge, it's just that our main investors were concerned and-"

“You wouldn't have fired me? I would have definitely fired me," Wendall grumbled.

"Hah," the noise sounded slightly strangled in Vernon's throat. "Well,

I might have insisted on a few months paid leave whilst you got yourself together." Another poignant pause.

“Have you gotten yourself together, mate?"

“I'm not drinking any more if that’s what you mean. Stopped the day after and haven't touched a drop since. I moved out to my old country house. The place is dry. It's just that after it happened I needed something to, I don't know, help me sleep?"

“We're talking now about the trollop then?"

“Don't call her that."

“What the hell am I supposed to call her!?" Vernon could really make his voice boom when he wanted to. "You walked in on her with another bloke! Believe me, I've called her a lot fucking worse since you stayed over at my house that night. Frannie made a voodoo doll in her image and she's been poking at it every day these last few weeks."

Frannie was Vernon's secretary and was about half his age. The pair of them often enjoyed some very naughty time together after work. Frannie was also a very nice woman, who seemed to think that Vernon was the one for her and had dutifully made friends with Wendall because of it. You didn't go all-in with someone without at least trying to get their best friend's approval after all.

“Tell her I'm oddly grateful." Despite the lead weight that often felt embedded in his chest, Wendall smiled.

“Anyway, I wanted you to know a few things. First off, the No Room at the Inn report came back and it's workable, Largely thanks to yourself.

We've got permission to set up the shelters across London through ‘till the spring. Should stop a lot of desperate people from having to freeze in the cold. Nicely done. We also put a team on working the idea of that new kid."

“Adrian?”