Clare was now in Chester. It was the best thing for her, she thought, a brand new start. Her mother said it was stupid and crazy, but it was her life and she had to live it and tomorrow she was starting a job with a company of Chartered Surveyors called Williamson, Davis and Dent.

The flat she had rented was large with Victorian features and was part of an old house. At the back, there was an iron gate through which was a private communal garden, nestled between other properties. It had lawn, trees and bushes with a small fountain and it was the garden that had swayed it, as this flat was further away from her new office, but such a lovely flat with a garden was a bonus.

Clare spent the afternoon food shopping, had unpacked her two suitcases and was settling down for the night. She was sitting up in bed drinking a glass of hot milk. Swallowing the last drop, she set the empty glass down on the bedside table then turned out the light, snuggled down into bed and was soon fast asleep.

Startled by a noise, Clare sat bolt upright in the bed. It was daylight and bright sunshine came streaming through the window. She gazed around the room and saw Hal sitting at the bottom of the bed looking towards her, smiling happily.

"I can't stay long, darling, I have to go back." he said. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." she replied.

"I like the flat." he said.

"Yes, so do I. I start my new job tomorrow."

Suddenly, Hal sprang to his feet, saying,

"What are you going to do about me Clare? What are you going to do?"

Before Clare could answer she was falling, falling, down and down into a deep dark well.Her body jumped violently and struggling for breath she opened her eyes. The room was pitch black. A disorientated feeling took hold of her head and it took several seconds to clear. Why was she was lying in this bed in a strange room? She turned to the clock on the bedside table. The red digital numbers bit into the darkness; 3.07 am. Coming slowly to her senses, she switched on the bedroom light, knowing now it was only a dream. Hal was not sitting on the bottom of the bed, or standing in the room and Clare was bitterly disappointed. In answer to his question, she whispered, "I have to go on without you, Hal. I don't want to, but what else can I do?" Tears welled up in her eyes and she flopped down onto the pillow and softly wept.

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To say that Williamson, Davis and Dent were nothing like any office she'd worked before, would be an understatement, she felt. Clive Dent, to whom she was secretary, turned out to be a terrible bully and he often slammed his fist down on the desk and swore at everyone. He had the habit of poking his head out of his office door and shouting "Coffee!" It made her feel like a slave.

The company also did not seem to encourage friendships. Clare met a girl called Grace one day near the water cooler and they were having a nice chat together, when Clive Dent came along. "Back to work now!" he growled.  That was the end of that conversation, but whenever they saw one another they had a quiet talk and Clare felt Grace was her only friend and ally in the office.

To be fair, the first couple of months were okay, but it was certainly downhill from there.Clare shared an office with a Miss Glenda Stanshaw, a plain, frumpy woman in her early sixties. She did nothing all day except answer the phone and fiddle about in the stationery cupboard. As Clare's basket of work grew and grew, she did less and less.

One day Clare thought, 'Right, today she works'! While Glenda Stanshaw was at lunch she took half of the pile of work and put it into her typing tray, but by 3.30 pm she had only typed one letter and Clare had to type it again as it was so full of errors. How could anyone keep a job for twelve years and be so incompetent?

Clare often stayed late to get everything done, which on reflection was stupid as she was making a rod for her own back. To make it worse, no one ever said 'please', 'thank you' or 'well done'. She missed Angie, Bob and Alan and everyone at Dixon and Halfpenny. They were angels by comparison.

Angie rang her up one evening. "Please come home, Clare, we all miss you and Alan's a real sour puss." Angie sobbed down the phone and it made Clare cry.

"Please come home, you're only punishing yourself!"

"I've made up my mind, Angie, I'm staying for at least a year."

"A year!" flared Angie, "You'll be dead by then, they'll have worked you into an early grave. What are you thinking!" But Clare's mind was made up.

Several things happened in the third month of her stay in Chester, however, which changed her mind. There was a man in the office called Brian Breeze who looked at every woman, including Glenda Stanshaw, up and down in a horrible leering way. There were lots of rumours flying around the office about him. One evening, he followed Clare out to her car and, although he didn't actually do anything, it was a scary moment when he came up close to her and grinned at her through his thick specs and crooked teeth, saying,

"You're off home then?" and she replied, "Yes, I'm going home to my husband." She was glad she still wore her wedding ring. Although he walked back into the office without another word, the experience was unsettling.

Another day, in the office, her purse was stolen from her handbag and everyone blamed her, as if it were unusual for a woman to keep a purse in her bag and one evening, after working late, she was mugged by a young man in the car park as she was unlocking her car to go home. He pushed her over, snatched her bag and ran away. She wasn't hurt, but was badly shaken up. It was just as well she kept her car keys and her money in her coat pocket. She'd learned that lesson, at least.

Clare didn't like to admit it, but her mother was right. She was very lonely and she wondered what on earth her phone bill would be like. She was forever on the phone each evening calling her mother, Sandra, or Angie. Alan had called her, as well, which was surprising and even he said, "We all miss you Clare, we wish you'd come back, it's not the same without you." He sounded very sad and sorry for himself, not a bit like him and she laughed when she put down the phone. Apparently, the temp was getting on his nerves!

The last straw came when Williamson, Davis and Dent held a retirement party for one of the men. They had eaten the meal and were standing around the bar drinking, when it started. Quite out of the blue, Clive Dent threw his glass of wine over Suzie's head and she slapped his face very hard and suddenly there was a free-for-all. Clare was amazed! Foul language punctuated the air amidst hitting and punching. Mr Williamson punched Clive Dent on the nose making it bleed; he punched Mr Williamson to the floor and so it went on. Other male employees joined in as if it was expected of them and a few of the women stood up, swinging their handbags around. Before long, there was a full-scale punch-up and someone called the police.

"Come on Gracie, let's go!" said Clare and she grabbed Grace and they left, in a hurry.

"I'm not going back there!" said Grace as Clare dropped Grace home in her car. "What will you do?"

"I'm going back to Bristol. I'm going to ask Bob and Alan if I can have my job back. I should never have come here in the first place!"

Grace asked Clare in for a coffee and they exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and promised to keep in touch.