It was 10am and literally hours after the depressing fruit and yoghurt meal Bev had consumed to break her fast. A little sweet pick-me-up was what she wanted, and she knew just the treat.
A few weeks ago, Bev had begrudgingly bought some Baileys flavoured chocolate at the Dublin airport, an offering for her colleagues after her weekend mini-break in Ireland. She wasn’t sure when the tradition of buying local treats had started but it was now a mandatory task to bring in sweetmeats following a trip. A glorious surprise when it was someone else sharing their holiday experience through the medium of chocolate, an irritating obligation when the task fell to her.
But she had taken a chance. Slinking into work early, Bev had sneakily placed the Bailey’s chocolate in her top drawer. Should anyone mention her trip she would bring out the chocolate and pass it around. But if the trip was to be forgotten, well … the chocolate would be hers and hers alone.
So a few weeks had safely passed.
Now, her desk mate, a Cambridge intern, offered her tea. “No, thanks” Bev politely refused. This would be the chance she would need.
The intern went to the kitchen.
Bev slid the drawer open and pulled out the chocolate. Muffling the sound of the wrapper as best she could she broke off a piece, 2 pieces and guiltily shoved them in her mouth. Eat, EAT, she thought, there wasn’t much time!
