Friday began in a cold, horrible atmosphere and went downhill from there. Just before nine, everyone raised their head to witness Claire being extremely rude to the lovely office junior Sarah, blaming her for a mistake in the diary. I could have stepped between them and ushered Claire away of course, but as usual shrunk away from the responsibility, finding myself open mouthed and paralyzed at the spectacle. Quiet tears were shed, and the office stuttered on, with girls shuttling from the office to the ladies loo, consoling and whispering. Everyone felt for the poor girl, except Claire of course, who soon immersed herself in her work again, ignoring the hubbub around her. Even when the mistake was found not to be Sarah’s, Claire successfully resisted the need to apologise, making the whole episode a thousand times worse. The day dragged on until five when everyone filtered away silently.
Saturday meant one of our frequent nights out for someone’s birthday. Claire surprisingly attended, although I was probably the only one pleased to see her, and looked absolutely breathtaking in a simple black dress that sparkled under the city’s lights. She had chosen my favourite French plait too which drew even more attention to her elfin features.
A pleasant enough night followed, but as could be expected after the previous days incident, most of the girls gave Claire the cold shoulder and as our group dispersed to various parts of the bar, she found herself alone in the corner, swirling a glass of white wine.
It was then that I noticed Claire gazing at two of the office girls and their boyfriends far across the bar.
Claire’s eyes looked away, misty and forlorn, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I knew that look as soon as I saw it.
I know that look better than anyone.
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