On Friday morning, Ellie let herself in about quarter-past nine again, and wasn't too surprised that the alarm was unset, or that Sam was in the kitchen. She called out a greeting on her way past to dump her bag in the office.

Sam's head poked out into the corridor. "Hi, Ellie. Tea?"

"Yes, please," Ellie called back as she turned on the computer in the office, and found her badge in her bag. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and slipped it through a bobble she retrieved from her wrist.

Sam appeared with two mugs, leaving one on the edge of the supervisor's desk. "Milk, no sugar. See, I was paying attention the other day."

"Thanks." Ellie smiled, genuinely, at Sam's consideration. "You been OK, then? Busy?"

Sam shrugged and made a non-committal noise. She was more interested in liking Ellie's jeans and jumper again – different jeans (smart, grey, tight), different jumper (fitted, pale blue v-neck), but no less nice. Nicer, indeed. The girl was slightly taller today – she glanced down and noticed ankle boots with an inch or two of heel, rather than Wednesday's trainers. Also, was it her imagination, or was Ellie wearing a subtle touch of makeup? No specs today, though, which was a shame. Unable to think of anything particularly witty to keep the conversation going, though, she took her leave and headed back upstairs.

A bit later, Sam heard Ellie doing her building checks, but resisted the strong temptation to go and watch or try to pretend to help – although she did enjoy a good look at Ellie's figure in her jeans when the girl popped into Sam's office to say hi and check there were no problems with the windows or anything. She also deleted an incoming text from her ex without reading it.

*

By lunchtime, Ellie had done her checks, answered her emails and thoroughly tidied the kitchen, so she was bored and slightly irritated. She hadn't really deliberately dressed up that morning (apart from the makeup, maybe, and wearing contacts instead of glasses), but she'd disappointed herself in not making more of having Sam alone in the building. And she knew she looked OK, in a smart/casual way, because she'd sneaked a look in the first-floor toilets mirror while she was on her rounds. She decided to take Sam another mug of tea, and try to kick-start a conversation.

"Milk and two sugars," she said, putting the mug down on Sam's desk and stepping back. "I was paying attention too."

Sam grinned at her, and gestured to indicate she was on the phone. (A mobile, Ellie noticed, rather than her work phone, which was a headset plugged into her PC.) Ellie guiltily covered her mouth with a hand and hovered near the door, unsure whether to wait or just go. Sam seemed to be listening rather than contributing, and glanced up at Ellie and raised her eyebrows in a sign she was bored of the call. Eventually she said, curtly, "Look, I can't really discuss this now, I've got work to do. I'll ring you later." She cut the call with a sigh and tossed the phone to one side on her desk, swivelling round in her chair and reaching for the mug. "Thanks. Did you say two sugars?" Ellie nodded. "Sweet. You were paying attention, too."

"Yes." Ellie leant on the door frame, crossing her ankles. She had forgotten the line she'd been thinking about using to get Sam talking.

"Nice top, by the way." Sam made a good attempt of looking like it had just occurred to her. "No specs today?" She hoped she sounded casual rather than disappointed.

"Thanks." Ellie looked down herself, as if realising she'd accidentally pulled it on that morning. Then she wondered why Sam had asked about her glasses. "Er, no. Contacts today." She twisted her ponytail round her fingers before realising what she was doing and dropping it. It rested alongside her neck, in front of her shoulder. She hadn't expected the compliment about her top, and it pleased her, even delivered so matter-of-factly. Why had Sam asked about her glasses? "I don't really like contact lenses, to be honest, but it makes a change now and then."

"The specs suit you," Sam said matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't look great anyway." Sam looked at the way Ellie's ponytail flowed down the front of her top, a few loose strands clinging to the material, and wondered if she was imagining it that she'd just made Ellie blush. "So, anyway. Sorry about that." She indicated her phone. "That was my...yeah...so, things aren't great at home at the moment." She pulled her fingers through her messy hair.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Ellie pulled a sympathetic face, and wondered if she was supposed to make anything of that. She'd liked Sam's compliments too, but wasn't sure what they meant. If anything. She felt her stomach rumble gently. "Listen, I was going to pop out and get something for lunch from the bakery in about 20 minutes. It's still open for the time being, I think. Do you want anything?"

Sam pointed a finger at her. "That's a good idea, Ellie. I'll come with, if that's OK with you? Beginning to feel a bit cooped-up in here."

"OK." Ellie pushed herself upright, pleased enough with that outcome, and made to leave. "Come down when you're ready."

*

As the two women walked to the bakery on the high street, about half an hour later, Ellie wondered whether it would be rude to ask about Sam's home situation. Sam was walking in the road to keep her distance, and happily there wasn't much traffic, but she had occasionally to hop back onto the pavement behind Ellie, then hop back out again. It was quite distracting, and made conversation difficult. The worst bit was as they passed the Post Office, and had to go single-file in the road to avoid the queue on the pavement – everyone two metres apart, more or less – as only two people were allowed in the actual building at once.

"What a fucking weird situation this is," muttered Sam, hoicking a thumb at the Post Office queue.

"Yes," Ellie agreed, assuming she meant the whole of lockdown. "It's really strange."

"Are you OK?" Sam asked, unexpectedly. "I mean, apart from having to work from a deserted office building now and then?" She drew level with Ellie, walking in the road again, and pushed her unruly hair away from her eyes.

Ellie had been thinking about this earlier. She had had to cancel going to see her parents and brother for her dad's birthday, which although it was a shame wasn't the end of the world – and at least her parents were still able to get out and go shopping or walk the dog; and she herself was very lucky in her own situation. She knew colleagues who had to juggle childcare and partners and working from home, and knew some of them had elderly parents who couldn't get out at all; she knew of others who were self-isolating for health reasons; she knew of one person from work who had been absent for a week already because her son had developed symptoms on his (forced, early) return from university and the whole family were in isolation.

"Thanks. I'm OK, yes. I mean, I'm lucky. I live by myself and, OK, the flat is small, but it's big enough for me and I'm a bit of a stay-at-home type anyway. I've got a little balcony I can sit on if I want some fresh air, and I can walk in the park or along the canal for exercise." She indicated the bakery coming up. "But I'm really glad for the excuse to get out and walk to work a few times a week, if I'm honest. Just for a change." She watched Sam nod sympathetically. "What about you? I bet it's tricky if, you know, things are tense at home anyway..."

Sam sighed, and looked at the bakery. There was one person waiting outside. "Yeah. At the moment, it's pretty shit, to be honest." She watched Ellie fall into place behind the other person, but stayed in the road. "Listen, I'm going to pop up to the chemist." She pointed her thumb up the road. "If you get in there before I get back, can I have a cheese salad on brown, with mayo not salad cream, and a steak bake?" She began pulling a fiver out of her jeans pocket.

"Sure." Ellie waved the money away. "It's OK, I'll get it. It was my idea."

*

By the time Sam returned from her own shopping trip, Ellie was in the shop and there was still a queue outside, so she hovered around outside awkwardly, then the two women walked back to the office with Sam hopping in and out of the road like before. They ate together in the kitchen area.

"I was tidying up in here earlier. Someone's left a load of soup sachets and dried ready meals, noodles and stuff, in the cupboard," Ellie remarked conversationally.

"Hmmm, yeah," agreed Sam. "Not like they'll go off, though. Not like milk. Which reminds me, I got some yesterday, so you don't have to keep bringing it in with you. You probably saw in the fridge – feel free to help yourself."

Ellie shrugged. "OK, thanks. Are you basically going to be full-time here?"

"Pretty much. We've got a rota for weekends as well, you know in case the business-critical infrastructure goes down, so I'll probably be around then too sometimes. Like this weekend, for instance."

"Rather you than me." said Ellie. "You could eat those noodles and cup-a-soups if you get desperate."

Sam grunted, then said, "You know you were asking how things were for me? This is a very minor thing but I'd booked my first hair appointment for like a year, for this week. Should've been Wednesday, about the time we were poking about in the attic together, as it happens. Then everything shut. That really pissed me off." She pushed her hair out of her face again, as if to prove the point.

Ellie studied Sam for a minute or two, and tried to imagine what her hair looked like normally. But she was slightly distracted again by Sam's messy hair looking like bed hair, and by just how nice it was to have a good look at Sam with a perfectly valid excuse. "I'll bring some scissors on Monday."

Sam laughed, standing up to rinse the plate she'd been using before returning it the cupboard. That seemed to signal the end of their communal lunch hour.

*

Towards four o'clock, Ellie had done everything she needed to do, and knew there would be nothing further in her inbox to deal with that couldn't wait until Monday. She packed up her stuff and, shouldering her bag, made her way upstairs to the office Sam was using. Sam seemed to be on a work call which was coming to an end, so Ellie waited, leaning on the door jamb as before, arms folded.

Sam smiled at her, and said into her headset, "OK, good. Try it again tomorrow if you get a chance, you should find it's all back to normal. If there's any further problems, just give me a bell straight back. I'm on duty this weekend, and it's not like any of us are going anywhere, is it?" She typed something rapidly, then swivelled round to face Ellie, keeping up eye contact. "All right, then...yes, you too, bye." She cut the call. "Sorry." She glanced at Ellie's bag. "You off?"

Ellie nodded, pushing upright and shoving her hands in her jeans pockets so she didn't fidget. "I hope you don't have to work too hard over the weekend." She wanted to say that Sam was welcome to come round to her flat for a break from the office, but knew she shouldn't offer: different households, and all that. "Will you be all right?"

Sam shrugged. "There's always YouTube, if I get bored."

Ellie wondered if she imagined the hint of resignation in Sam's voice. She spotted a pad of post-its on a desk, and had an idea. She scribbled on the top one and flicked the pad across the desk to Sam. "That's my number. If there's a problem with the building over the weekend. Or whatever." She smiled at Sam quickly through a loose bit of her hair, hoping to indicate that 'whatever' meant using her number socially. "I'll be in again first thing on Monday, anyway." She hesitated by the door, fiddling with the same loose strand of hair. "I hope things get better at home."

Sam peeled off the post-it from the pad and stuck Ellie's number to the side of her computer screen. She sighed. "To be honest, Ellie, who knows? She's a nurse, so is not only knackered and stressed anyway with the whole thing, but she's really worried about picking it up somewhere and taking it into work, or bringing it back from there. So, yeah. And she's on nights at the moment, which is never fun for anyone." She let her breath out noisily through her lips. "It's easier all round if I spend most of my time out of the way." She waved around the office.

Ellie nodded, taking a moment to process the matter-of-fact way Sam had just come out to her. "Sam, I'm so sorry, It must be really tough. For you both." It was especially tempting to invite her to the flat now, but she did the right thing (both morally as someone starting to quite fancy a taken woman, and socially in terms of public health) and bit it back. She pointed at her number on the post-it. "Definitely text if you need a break or someone to talk to or whatever. Or ring. Just...if you want." She reflected that her moral stance only stretched so far, as texting could just be the thin end of a wedge.

"OK, thanks." Then Sam brightened (Ellie couldn't tell whether she was genuine or forcing it), and waved her hand towards the door. "Anyway, I'm a big girl, I'll be OK. Go and have a nice weekend, you slacker. Some of us have got work to do." She smiled.

Ellie grinned back. "All right. Look after yourself. I'll see you Monday."

At that moment, Sam's phone rang, so she just waved goodbye as she took the call.