Mid-way through Friday afternoon of the following week, Clare and Angie heard shouting and foul language coming from the corridor. It meant only one thing. Gary!

They ran out into the corridor and saw Gary at the far end holding Alan up against the wall, with one hand holding onto Alan's shirt and the other threatening a punch. Alan was just standing there (in Clare's opinion as she later pointed out to him) like a limp lettuce. They hurried towards him, but before they reached him, Tony from the end office arrived and in two seconds flat he had disabled Gary and marched him out of the end doors, through Reception and out of the building. Gary was still protesting loudly when he reached Reception, but they heard Tony shout, "Get out and stay out, or we'll call the Police." The furore died down, by which time Clare and Angie had reached Alan at the end of the corridor.

"What happened?" asked Angie.

"I only said 'I hope you're watching your step' and he went ballistic!" said Alan. "I should have kept my mouth shut."

"But you're his employer, you had every right to say that." said Clare.

"Are you okay?" asked Angie.

"He had his filthy hands all over my shirt!" said Alan indignantly, smoothing over the creases on his chest and pulling his tie straight. "He bashed my head against the wall and I saw stars. I couldn't do a thing."

Clare felt the back of his head.

"I can't feel anything, but you'd better keep your eye on it. Should we call the Police?"

"No. Waste of time. Well, that's good, he's gone at last! I must say, guys, I'm quite relieved. One down and a million to go!" They both laughed at him. Even under stressful conditions, Alan was able to joke.

Tony came marching back into the Corridor and Alan thanked him for his assistance.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"I used to be a bouncer in a night club. I learned a trick or two."

"More like a trick or three!" said Angie.

"I'm surprised, I thought bouncers were huge." said Alan. Tony was short and wiry.

"It's all down to technique." said Tony. "I knew a girl once who was very small, but she could floor a 6' 4" guy, easy as. No one messed with her. Just one word and they'd stand in line like five year olds."

Tony then locked all of the outside doors, to prevent Gary coming back and Clare and Angie returned to their office with Alan, who was looking pale.

"Uh, I think I'm getting a migraine." said Alan, rubbing his brow with his fingers.

Clare was concerned about Alan and the whole situation. She felt strongly that the Police should be called, but wasn't inclined to argue.

"Shall I take you home?" she asked. "It's nearly quarter to five anyway?" Alan agreed, so they said good night to Angie, who locked the end door behind them and they walked down to the car park, where a nasty shock awaited them.

Gary wasn't there now, but he'd left chaos behind him. He'd obviously taken a baseball bat and smashed the windscreen on Alan's car. Glass was scattered everywhere. Clare was appalled. "Oh no! Look at that! How could he do such a thing? Just as well Bob was out, I suppose he would have done the same to his car, if it was here."

Still in a state of shock, Alan put out his hand to touch the glass on the windscreen, but Clare stopped him.

"Don't do that Alan, you'll cut yourself. I think you've got enough problems, don't you?"

Alan looked at her and frowned.

"I'll have to leave it, Clare, I feel too sick to bother. Take me home, James."

So 'James' took him home, this time in her car.

The same routine followed, the tablets from the en-suite bathroom, the glass of water fetched by Clare. The removal of Alan's shoes and socks, suit, shirt and tie and the wriggling out of his suit trousers and slipping into the double bed under the blue duvet. Alan, as sick as he was, looked up from his bed and said weakly,

"I have a strong feeling of déjà vu!"

Much against her better judgment, she smiled at his remark.

"I'll pop over and see you tomorrow, if you like. Just in case you need anything."

"You're a good friend, Clare." he said in a small voice "I'd like that."

She looked down on his incredibly handsome face and said "Bye, Alan," but he had closed his eyes and was unable to reply.

Clare had found the whole 'Gary' episode distressing and as she drove along she began to wonder about life. Why was it so unfair? Why didn't Gary get migraine? If anyone deserved it, he did. She thought of a few choice words she could use to describe him! Why did Alan have to suffer? Her mother's favourite saying was 'Anything can happen to anybody' and it certainly did. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for it sometimes. But it was comforting to know, Clare thought, that come what may God was watching over his children, whatever their trials and sufferings might be and ultimately, He was in control.

Her father had described it once as 'Life's Rich Tapestry'. A tapestry, stitched by each person and every experience was a stitch sewn on to it. One side of the tapestry being loose ends and knots with no sense to be made out of it, a mess, just like life often was, but the other side a beautiful, breath-taking picture with bright colours, textures and deep meaning. It was the best analogy she could think of. All these things made up 'Life's Rich Tapestry' and good could sometimes spring from bad. Despite all of her problems, she sincerely believed it, there was no other way.

Being the 'good friend' that Alan thought she was, Clare didn't go straight home. She returned to the office and arranged for a twenty-four hour windscreen company to repair Alan's car, to enable him to drive home on Monday evening.