I leaned into the corridor to see her – in matching black trousers and cardigan – standing just behind Miranda. The big girl threw the last bolt, turned, leaned down and they kissed. Not a polite peck or two, but full on the lips. I waited. And I waited some more. Come on, you two, haven’t you had your lunch? They eventually managed to prise themselves apart and made their way towards me, shouting at each other as they walked. Miranda threw some shapes with her arms, in case she hadn’t been heard. Lena was all smiles. ‘Nick!’ She threw her arms round me and treated me to a big continental three-timer on the cheeks. I was glad I hadn’t got the Miranda treatment: this girl’s breath stank of cigarettes. Miranda disappeared again as Lena moved to the other side of the desk. ‘Please, Nick. Sit.’ She plonked herself on a cheap foam-padded office chair and stole a quick glance over the paperwork on her desk. ‘You still searching for trafficked girls? We’ve got enough of them.’ It was good dealing with people like Frank and Lena.
