Joe flung the door open, clashing it against the brick as he strode out of the corridor, clawing inside his trouser pocket as he neared the stairs. “Come on, you—” He removed his lighter as he stepped down the empty stairway, clanging on the metal as he went. Joe took his cigarette pack from his shirt pocket, hit the edge of it against the railing, and snatched at one of the few free ones in his teeth before near crumpling the box back up in his pocket as he sat on the steps. He breathed deep and lit his cigarette as other footfalls came from upstairs.
Joe held his head. “Joe,” Mark said from somewhere up there.
Joe took a puff and put his lighter back in his trouser pocket. “Can’t I have five bloody minutes?” he said. Joe inhaled again and glanced up at Mark as he hurried down the steps in his stupid suit and half crooked tie. Joe looked back at the wall in front of his as the clanging of steel continued, and soon, Mark walked past Joe and leant against the wall. “If Jessica thinks she can—”
“She never said anything,” Mark said. He sighed. “She’s in tears, Joe.”
“Good,” Joe said. He took another puff as Mark pulled a face. “Don’t give me that.” Joe raised his hand. “She’s been on my back for the past two weeks about these reports. I’m doing them. Everyone knows I’m doing them. There’s no damned evidence for me to look at.” Joe inhaled.
“I know, but the facility—”
“Sod the facility.” Joe blew the smoke over the stairway. “Someone had to tell the stupid girl.”
“It’s not her fault that—”
“For God’s sake, she doesn’t understand! Not the system. Not the process. Nothing.” Mark stayed quiet as Joe took another draw of his cigarette. He shook his head and stood before blowing the smoke away. “See how she likes her reports when some other mug is doing them.” Joe doused his cigarette on the railing and threw the remnants down the stairway.