Steve looked up from his desk to survey the debris of another busy day and noted that once again he was among the last to leave. Eric was still there but that was to be expected, he was officially a part of the fixtures and fittings after thirty years service. Jean the jovial was still tapping the keys of her keyboard and she raised her head and gave him a half-hearted smile as she realised he was looking at her.

He didn’t particularly object to putting in overtime but it did seem recently that it was always the same people who ended up staying late and none of them seemed to be any better thought of because of it. For him it was now mission accomplished and he decided he could safely make his way home without risking the wrath of his boss, Big Des, the next morning.

Des was ok most of the time but if ever he was told something would be done and it wasn’t, Des was less than pleased and had no problem with informing you or anyone else within earshot that he wasn’t pleased. It was fairly normal for anyone who had borne the brunt of such an experience to avoid a repeat performance at all costs.

Steve saw George the cleaner working his way around the office in his normal shambling style, rearranging the dirt on the floor as he went from workstation to workstation collecting the remnants of someone’s lunch or mid-morning snack and throwing it all in the bin which he dragged behind him.

It never ceased to amaze Steve that all of his colleagues at the graphic design company where he worked would spend hours ensuring that every pixel on their screen was in exactly the right place but not one of them could keep their desk looking anything better than a disaster area. He got up and stretched a little to shake off the effects of being in one position for too long and made his way slowly across the office to retrieve his coat.

He put the bag containing his laptop down while he put on his coat and then, giving a courteous but not too loud lest anybody here him “goodnight” , he picked up his bag and made his way out of the door and across the hallway to the lift. He pushed the button to summon the lift and was taken aback by the fact that for the first time ever the lift was actually there waiting for him, he entered and pressed the ground floor button, the lift jolted into action and conveyed him down to the ground floor where he alighted into the tiled reception area.

He was very proud of the reception area, it displayed a certain opulence which denoted that the company he slogged his guts out for was actually doing rather well, he also believed that this look of grandeur had been financed at least partly by the difference between what he earned and what he believed he should be earning, so he actually felt that this reception was partly his.

He made his way over to the delightful full length glass doors and gave a weary wave to Ted the security man who made a very weak effort at returning the compliment, “never mind” thought Steve, “the thought was there”.

He left the building and stood in the middle of Wollaton Street contemplating what to do now he was free, he could hear the sound of revellers off in the distance somewhere and he considered taking himself down into the centre for a pint but the momentary temptation was overridden by his desire for peace, quiet and food. He decided that on reflection he wasn’t actually that concerned which order they came in either.

He decided to make his way home to Hucknall on the tram and then veg out on the settee with a plate of food, there was football on the telly so it could be a nice quiet end to a very trying day. Having made this momentous decision he got into the nitty gritty issue of what food might be in his fridge, due contemplation reminded him that the contents of his fridge were in fact pretty much as they had been three days ago when he realised he had nothing worth eating.

Therefore, if he was to eat at home he would have to call at Tesco along the way home, either that or he could get something to eat first and then get the tram home thereby missing out on the Tesco diversion. Plan B won hands down and he started walking towards the city centre and the big yellow M which awaited him.

As he walked past the Kebab shop his mind was set wondering again on exactly what the huge piece of brown rotating stuff in the window was and what animal it could possibly be part of, he liked foreign food generally but he drew the line at kebabs. As he walked he became aware of the noise around him, the traffic, the shrieks of young people walking between pubs and the general clatter of people enjoying a night out.

It was 9pm and even if he had been in the mood for a night on the town, the thought of going home, getting showered and changed and then heading out again was just too much, he was all in and his sanctuary in Hucknall was calling him. He reached the bottom of Market Street and began crossing the square to go down Kings Walk to MacDonalds, he saw three youths just off to his left who were pushing each other around in a mock disagreement.

He carried on across the square but was conscious of the three youths stopping their play fighting and carrying on walking not too far behind him, they were all dressed in the current uniform of the yobbo, nylon sportswear from head to foot topped off with a cap from the Burberry urban arsehole collection. They seemed to be discussing the attributes of a lone female across the way so Steve quickened his step and started into Kings Walk. He reached MacDonalds, walked in and joined the fairly short queue and began to peruse the menu.

Without much hesitation he decided on the quarter pounder with cheese meal and a large cup of coffee, he would take it outside and go and sit on the low wall near St Peters church and eat “al fresco” to shake off the confinement of the office where he had been for the last 12 hours. As he waited to order he noticed the three lads he had seen in the square come walking in and approach the counter to order something, one of them looked across at him and quickly turned away as Steve glanced back at him.

The lad turned and said something to his friends, Steve wasn’t sure but he thought he saw him motion his head over to where he was and he began to feel a little uneasy, they were only 15 or 16 but there were three of them and they looked a bit on the rough side. Steve suddenly realised he was at the front of the queue and a gaily clad MacDonalds employee was impatiently asking him what he wanted, probably not for the first time by her demeanour.

He gave his order and she duly turned away and began to organise things, eventually she turned around and asked him for £4:85 which he considered to be a small price to pay for avoiding a trip to Tesco when he didn’t feel like it. Following a lot of scrambling about and getting in each others way the MacDonalds team delivered his meal and drink to where he waited and wished him an enjoyable meal which he greatly appreciated.

He made his way outside and over to the low wall which used to surround a fountain but now surrounded a lump of discoloured stone covered in pigeon shit. He didn’t mind though, it had become a part of the Nottingham he liked so he was quite happy to sit there and devour his meal. He began putting the sugar he had acquired from the counter into his coffee when he became aware of the fact that he was no longer alone, he looked up and saw the three youths from earlier standing over him. No-one said anything so he carried on doing what he was doing hoping their presence was a temporary blip while they sugared their own drink before moving on. He knew deep down that this was highly unlikely but any other scenarios he considered were highly undesirable so he tried to keep positive.

“What were you looking at” said one of the youths. Steve froze at the words, he tried to feign not having heard the question, “oy” said the youth, “am talking to yo”. At the same time he aimed a kick which sent Steve’s bag of food soaring into the air finally coming to land a few yards away and scattering its contents along the paving.

Steve stood up and faced the youths but said nothing, “come on then” said the largest of the three, staring into Steve’s eyes and daring him to object to what had just happened. Steve was shaking and breathing heavily, “well” said the youth pushing Steve in the chest so he back pedalled a few steps. Steve turned and walked back towards MacDonalds with the sound of the youths jeering filling his ears, “enjoy your meal” they shouted, laughing as they did so.

“Do you want fries with that, ya twat” another bout of raucous laughter followed.

Steve headed quickly back up Kings Walk breathing heavily as he went, he quickened his step and the sound of the youths jeering was dying away, he looked back and saw he was unaccompanied. He replayed what had just happened in his mind and cursed himself for his inaction, they were just boys and he had let them humiliate him.

As he started walking again he began to ease up on himself, what had been his alternatives? Take on all three of them? Shout for help? He had done the right thing, he was in one piece and he had lived to fight or run another day. At least he had managed to keep hold of his laptop, no mean feat in Nottingham.

He decided to walk to the Lace Market tram stop to avoid being too close to where the incident had happened, he walked along the Poultry,  turned into Bridlesmith Gate and was just heading up Bottle Lane when he heard the footsteps behind him……….