Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

up against the breeze.

He was tapping his heavy fountain pen against his palm, his eyes scanning the midday traffic below.

“Eleanor,” he said as I reached the landing. “I was hoping I would catch you before the office closed your email account.”

“I came to hand in my security badge, Peter,” I said, reaching into my bag.

“The files are completely archived,continue reading …