By the time Rona came into the magazine's office that day Sacha had already been and gone. "How did you find her?" she asked Si as soon as she got in.

Si smiled and nodded. "Yeah, she seemed really nice. I'm looking forward to having her on board."

"Wait, it was Sacha you met with, right? Dark hair? Glasses? A little . . . chunky?"

"Yeah, that's right. Sacha. Seemed like a nice kid."

"She's older than me, Si."

"It's a term of endearment."

"It patronising."

"Don't you have a column to write?"

"Don't you?"

Stalemate. The other people who were in the room working on the magazine had formed a small crowd, though they were doing their best to look like they were doing anything other than paying attention to Si and Rona's discussion. There was a standing bet among the magazine staff - though neither Rona nor Si knew of it - about which of the two would hit the other first. The smart money was on Rona.

"Okay" said Rona (much to the disappointment of about half of the onlookers), "So what did you tell her?"

"I told her that in our current financial situation we couldn't afford to pay her anything" (the small crowd in the rest of the room rolled their eyes simultaneously) "and that she should think about it for a couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks? Jesus Si, I know her - at least, I know her a hell of a lot better than you do - she's liable to get cold feet in a couple of weeks."

Si smiled cheerfully at her, undeterred. "I don't think so. She seemed quite enthusiastic. She dressed nicely as well. I like that in a colleague . . ."

"Si!"

Si shrugged. "Look, she can't start for a couple of weeks, I'm waiting for a friend to give me his old computer."

Rona shut her eyes and muttered something to herself, not even attempting to hide her frustration from Si (who would have carried on blithely either way). Still with her eyes shut, Rona asked him: "Why can't your friend give us the computer now?"

"Because" said Si, "It's his current computer right now. It'll only be his old computer in a couple of weeks."

Rona sighed. She was too tired from piecing the magazine together - and patching up Si's mistakes - to argue. "Okay" she said. "A couple of weeks it is."

"Yes" said Si, "I know. That's what I told your friend Sarah. I mean Sacha." And still smiling obliviously, he turned back to the editorial he'd not quite started writing, and said to Rona: "Why don't you go and make yourself a cup of tea? That'll make you feel better."