I hesitated when I heard Tom's raised voice saying, 'Well, you'd better drag him out of his meeting and tell him that Tom Fellows wants to talk to him about his wife.' The next thing I knew, I was reeling from a blow to my face and my nose was bleeding. Instinctively, I sat down on a low chair and bent forwards. I knew that Tom was not a fighting man and he was unlikely to hit me again unless I stood up against him. 'You stupid bastard,' he was shouting. 'You've gone and ruined everything.' But instead of raising his fist again, he sat down next to me and held his head in his hands. 'Shall I call the police, sir?' the receptionist whispered as she bent down to hand me a wad of tissues. 'No, no. Make us some coffees and show Mr Fellows to my office while I wash my face.' 'Will you come this way?' she asked him, but Tom followed me into the men's toilets and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Denial wasn't an option. 'I left, Tom,' I explained. 'I left because I knew that I couldn't finish it any other way.' 'Oh yes, you left all right,' he hissed.
