Commute - Camp NaNoWriMo April 2015

Chapter Sixteen - Shoes From the 1800s?

"Afternoon, McKenna."

I groan inwardly, and push the power button on my computer. Since the last time you saw her, I've successfully managed to avoid Charlotte Finley, darting to the loo every time she walks past. But now, it's a Friday afternoon. She's due to have a check-in with Mr Clifford at the desk next to mine in ten minutes. This week, I can't slip away because of a 'family emergency'. Four in as many weeks is probably pushing it. No, I'm stuck here, for what looks like three hours. And now, for ten minutes, I have to bear Charlotte Finley as she criticizes me from head to toe.

"Afternoon, Miss Finley."

"Nice shoes you're wearing, McKenna. Very... nineteenth century, wouldn't you say? And that hairdo. It's so in right now. Dead Spaniel is just it."

"Charlotte," I say pointedly, glancing at my (blank) computer screen, "I have loads to do right now. If you'll just..."

"Oh? Loads to do?" She pounces on it like a vulture. "So, you've finally finished that... point five of an interview now, have you?"

I smile weakly. "I'm doing perfectly fine, Miss Finley, not that it's any of your business."

"Oh, it is," she says. "I have to make sure that I finish before you, so mine goes in first. I really need to know how many you've finished."

Unbelievable.

"See you on Monday, Miss Finley." I turn round and start tapping on my keyboard.

"Your power button is off," she snipes, "so don't expect to get any work done today," and flounces off.

I push the power button on with more force than I've ever used on a power button before (and trust me, there have been some times).

These shoes are meant to be vintage. Get a life, woman.