5 SLAY TO THE MUSIC
“I can’t believe you did that!” I said, slamming the door shut behind us as quickly as humanly possible to avoid the freeloading Mrs Beryl, who’d lurk around in the shadows between units 22 and 23, waiting for you to leave your door even the tiniest bit open. Then, the old goat would pounce and invite herself in for a cup of tea and biscuits. Lots of biscuits.
“You got the job, didn’t you?” Gee replied.
I had, even if Mr MacMillan struggled to compose himself during the interview. Five minutes in, he offered me the job and rushed out of his office, sobbing like a child who’d been told Santa burned all his presents and left only an ugly sweater behind. “Yes, but I never told you to kill off the competition.”
“Technically, I didn’t kill off anyone. I sort of fast-for
