It’s No Good Being Sorry About It...

Lester huffed out an irritated breath as he reached for the stationary cupboard door-handle.

“Out!” he commanded, with the perfect mixture of weary expectancy and official disapproval.

Dr Page hurried past him first, desperately trying to fix her ruined hair, eyes rooted to the floor as she mumbled an embarrassed ‘sorry’ before scurrying away.

Becker emerged second, not looking nearly so contrite, straightening his t-shirt in a manner that could almost be considered nonchalant.

“Sorry, sir,” he said, barely suppressing a grin.

Lester looked skywards before walking off, muttering something uncomplimentary about the young and their hormones under his breath.