she frowned. 'What is she doing with that pen pot?' Kristen and Angela watched Claudie's glossy brown bob swinging from side to side as she examined the stationery on her desk. 'That's the third time she's emptied it this morning,' Kristen whispered. 'And she's sorted through her in-tray a dozen times too. She must have lost something.' Kristen nodded. She'd been afraid of as much for the last nine months. Claudie looked at the growing pile of work leaning precariously over the edge of her table like a paper version of the Tower of Pisa. She had enough to keep her busy for a week but she just couldn't muster any enthusiasm. It was odd but, since that morning, she'd had the strangest sensation that she was being watched. Yes, she knew Kristen and Angela had been talking about her again: they were about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but there was something else. It was almost as if her computer had turned into an enormous eye; a great spying Cyclops on her desk, watching her, recording her, assessing her. It gave her the shivers. She kept having to get up and leave her desk. A bit of filing here, a quick trip to the ladies, a lengthy session at the photocopier. But, as soon as she sat down, the feeling would come back. She'd soon become paranoid and had started looking around the room, half-expecting to see a hidden camera, as if she were the unwilling guinea pig on